Название: A Night With Consequences
Автор: Margaret Mayo
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern
isbn: 9781408925683
isbn:
Kara shrugged and looked as though she wished he had not asked her that question either. ‘I stay at home. My mother isn’t well enough to travel.’
Of course. He was forgetting her parent’s illness. ‘In that case you have no right criticising me,’ he said, accompanying his words with a smile. Sometimes Kara looked as though she was terrified of him and he had no idea why. She intrigued him, and he felt a very real need to get to know her better while they were here.
Kara found the first day of the conference an eye opener. She was spellbound. Watching Blake take command, the respectful interest everyone had in him, the energy that buzzed around the room, somehow invigorated her as well. She felt more alive than she had in a long time.
She had expected to sit quietly by Blake’s side, making notes, feeding him any information he did not have readily to hand, but somehow she found herself being drawn in.
Maybe the fact that she was fully conversant with everything helped. She had made it her business to be the most efficient PA Blake had ever had so that he would never feel the need to get rid of her. And she felt very proud of herself when she was able to answer any question that he threw her way.
‘A very successful first day,’ he announced when the meeting broke up. ‘Thanks to your excellent organisational skills. You’ve done me proud, Kara, thank you.’
Kara felt swift colour flood her cheeks. ‘I only did what I’m getting paid for.’
‘And more,’ he said, his eyes locking into hers so that she felt a swift river of heat tumble its way through her body. ‘Remind me to give you a rise when we get back. For now, I think we should get some air before dinner. We need to stretch our legs.’
Kara was not sure whether this was a command or a suggestion. ‘I actually thought of relaxing in my room.’ The whole day had proved more exhausting than she had expected.
‘Nonsense!’ he said briskly. ‘You need fresh air and exercise. It’s either a walk—I could show you some of the sights Milan has to offer, La Scala for instance—or—’ his eyes lit up as he spoke ‘—we could take advantage of the swimming pool. You do swim, Kara?’
Every nerve in her body shuddered. The mere thought of seeing all that exposed, bronzed, muscle-packed flesh, scared her to death. It was not that she did not want to see him, she did—her heart raced at the thought—but she was afraid that she might give herself away in the process.
‘I do,’ she answered, unaware that her voice had gone suddenly husky. ‘But I think I’d prefer to walk. In any case I haven’t packed a swimsuit. I had no idea that swimming was part of the agenda.’
Blake smiled his appreciation at her attempted humour, his eyes crinkling at the corners and making him look—different. Softer, kinder, poles apart from the tough-guy businessman she had got to know so well. This new man frightened her. He sent prickles of heat across her skin and an ache low down in her belly.
‘They do have a shop here in the hotel that sells that sort of thing.’
‘I’d still rather walk,’ answered Kara quietly, since she wasn’t being given the option of going back to her room. He was overpowering her, and wasn’t giving her any time to herself. And, although she did feel a need to drag some fresh air into her lungs, she could do that just as easily in the hotel gardens—alone!
Amazingly, though, once they set off she began to relax. She even found herself chatting to him as though he was an old friend. Not divulging anything personal, but commenting on the shops that lined the streets, selling jewellery and handbags and all sorts of interesting things. But it was definitely La Scala itself that entranced her.
‘I’ve always wondered about this place,’ she exclaimed as they stood looking at the elegant building.
Blake smiled indulgently. ‘Do you like opera?’
‘Sometimes,’ she admitted. ‘It depends if I’m in the right mood.’
‘And what mood would that be?’ he asked, half-turning to face her.
As she met those stunning dark eyes her body flooded with new and different sensations, different emotions that spun her into a whole new world. A world of hunger and desire. A world where there was just Blake and herself. Blake making love to her, teaching her, encouraging her. She felt embarrassed by it. This should not be happening.
But how to help herself? She had the feeling that Blake could read the thoughts in her mind. The countless thoughts that raced round and round, confusing her and worrying her, bringing swift colour to her cheeks, and she wished now that she had gone to her room and shut herself in.
In London Blake was her boss, her employer, and she had never let herself think of him in any other way. She had not even wanted to. But now that she was far away from home, away from the safe and familiar, she was changing, relaxing—and almost welcoming the attention he was paying her.
‘When I’m feeling sad,’ she admitted in answer to his question, surprised to hear that her voice sounded normal. ‘I don’t really understand opera, but it somehow helps me. Not that I’ve ever been to a live performance.’
‘Is that so?’ Blake’s brows lifted. ‘Then we will have to see whether we can remedy that while we’re here. Watching an opera being performed at La Scala is a serious sensation in itself.’
Swift alarm stabbed at Kara’s chest. Attending a concert with Blake went far beyond anything that was reasonable and sane. ‘I doubt whether we’ll have time.’ And even if they had would she really want to go with him? Sit with him for two or three hours, or however long it lasted? This new-found awareness would fill her to such an extent that she would be unable to concentrate on what was going on on the stage. She put on her very best office voice. ‘You have a very full schedule, Mr Benedict. And even if you didn’t, I doubt you’d get tickets at this late stage. They must be sold out months in advance.’
‘Are you trying to get out of it?’
‘I am.’ There was no point in lying.
Blake laughed at her honesty. ‘Tut-tut, Kara. Have you not realised yet that I always get my own way? And perhaps you could learn to call me Blake?’
There was a whole world of difference between calling him Blake in her mind and saying it to his face. Maybe she was old-fashioned, but using his surname was what she needed more than anything right now. It held up the barrier. It prevented intimacy. It reminded her of who he was.
Not that her body took heed of any barriers. The longer they were together the more aware of him she became. And the more uncomfortable she felt. It was such a foreign feeling that she wanted to turn and run in case he sensed it.
Blake was a man of the world. He knew all about women. If he looked too deeply into her eyes he would be able to see how much he affected her. He would guess at the riot of emotions he had stirred. And he might play on it. Take advantage. Hammer away at her senses until she weakened.
The thought of weakening, of allowing him to flirt and tease, maybe even go further, caused a fast, heart-thumping eruption of excitement, of actual physical need. She turned and began to walk away. Finally she was beginning to appreciate what all the other girls in the office talked about.
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