The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection. Kelly Hunter
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Название: The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection
Автор: Kelly Hunter
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
isbn: 9781474084024
isbn:
Her eyes closed.
Long moment, and then she opened her eyes. ‘I don’t understand any of this. Why did you let Rob talk you into coming here when you knew I’d be here? It’s not what we’re about, is it? Drinks with friends?’
‘I wanted—’ Stop. Swallow. Confess. ‘I wanted to see you.’
‘You’re seeing me on Sunday. At noon. Remember?’
‘I remember. But who’ll be opening the door? Kate? Officer Cleary? Or Lorelei?’
‘Who do you want to see, Scott?’
Silence. Because the answer had stuck in his throat. The way words always did.
He saw her shoulders slump, as if she was defeated. Knew he wasn’t handling this. Wasn’t handling her. Wasn’t handling anything.
‘Surprise me,’ he said, and forced a smile. His I’m cool with that smile.
Except he wasn’t cool with it. He wanted her to call him on what he’d said. To fight with him. Rage at him. Slap him if she had to. To demand more. More! To tell him that she deserved more and she wanted more. And she wanted it from him. To say, So step up to the plate, Scott Knight, and if you can’t give it to me I’ll find it somewhere else. I’ll find someone else. Someone…else.
Say it—say it, Kate. You want someone else. Say it!
But she gave him smile for cool smile instead. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll make sure it’s memorable for you.’
And then she patted her hair into place. Twitched at her dress.
‘But now I’m going to go back inside to get my things. I’ve had a big week. A bad week. And I need to go home.’
He wanted to take her hands again, but he couldn’t seem to get them out of his pockets. ‘Tell me. What happened with the case?’
She looked at him. And the tears in her eyes almost undid him. But when she spoke her voice was like crystal. Clear and smooth and cold.
‘No fireside chats, remember?’
‘But I—’
‘Stop, Scott. Just stop. I came out to relax with a few girlfriends and instead I’m standing in a dark alley with a man who’s not saying anything that makes sense. I just want to go in, pay my bill, grab my things and leave. You go back to that hen party, and text me before Sunday if you’ve been unfaithful.’ Short, strange laugh. ‘How quaint that sounds. Let’s say, instead, if you’ve adhered to the clause.’
And with that, she stalked out of the alleyway.
By the time Scott had himself enough under control to return to the table, Kate had been and gone.
He picked up the fresh beer that was waiting for him because Brodie, who had his back like in the old days, had known he’d need one.
‘Want to borrow my boat in the morning?’ Brodie asked.
Scott smiled—his all okay here smile. ‘No, I’m good. She’s all yours.’ Oh, God, no! He’d said it again. All yours.
‘I think we both know, Scott, that she’s all yours. But if you’ll take my advice you won’t take too long to claim her—because Kate doesn’t strike me as the type to wait forever.’
KATE WOKE ON Sunday with full-blown jitters.
Because she didn’t have a clue what she was going to offer Scott for Play Time at noon.
It was almost more than her tired, slightly sunburned body could manage just to get out of bed, let alone plan a fantasy, because yesterday’s sailing lesson had been the most full-on physical three hours she’d ever spent.
Sailing was as freeing, as exhilarating, as wonderful as she’d always thought it would be—with an excellent side benefit: all that hauling of sheets and dodging of booms, being ordered around and shoved all over the deck by Brodie and his two cohorts, had left her with no time to think about Scott. Or about their upcoming Play Time either.
The guys had taken her out for a congratulatory drinking session afterwards, because apparently she had what it took, and by the time Kate had got home, she’d been so tired she’d fallen into bed.
She’d slept for a full three hours before thoughts of Scott had niggled her into wakefulness. And then had come the night-long tossing and turning she was learning to expect.
Fractured sleep, painful dreams, tortured thoughts. Wondering how Scott had felt, knowing she was on the water with his best friend. Rethinking every look, every word from Friday night. Trying to figure out what was behind the anger Scott refused to unleash—was it the way he felt about her, or residual mistrust from the eight-year-old Chantal/Brodie situation? Hoping he hadn’t—please, please, please—voided their contract by touching another woman.
After all that it was no wonder she was devoid of ideas.
Arabian nights, pirate and tavern wench, boss and secretary—all of which she’d considered—just seemed stupid.
How she wished she’d never thought of writing fantasies into the contract. She hated Play Time. Hated it!
So much so that in a fit of pique—yes, pique!—she decided to wear her most complicated dress. Buttons and zips and ties, with an exotic fold or two. An origami nightmare of a dress. Because Scott deserved to have to fight his way through to her for a change, rather than have her laying it all out for him to take.
He’d said the first time they met that for her he could get a little ‘gladiatorial’—so let him prove it by fighting his way past her dress! In fact, she would make it harder. She would blindfold him! And what was more, she would give him a time limit.
That was a good enough Play Time for her.
Scott buzzed on the dot of noon—he was nothing if not punctual—and she let him into the building without waiting to hear his voice.
‘We only have an hour,’ Kate said, all brisk and businesslike as she opened the door to him, holding two silk scarves at the ready.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘Nothing to do with Brodie, if that’s what you’re wondering.’
‘I’m not wondering. Are you wondering?’
‘About Brodie?’
He just looked at her.
‘Oh, do you mean am I wondering about you and the hens on Friday night?’ she asked, and eked out СКАЧАТЬ