Chasing Summer. Abigail Gordon

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СКАЧАТЬ back his hair with exasperated fingers. ‘Truly...I believe you.’

      His declaration of belief gave her cold comfort, for his words had a sardonic, bitter flavour that implied she was still at fault, as though somehow she inspired men to commit atrocities. Any indignation was swiftly followed by guilt, though, as she recalled what had happened in the lift, how she had eagerly welcomed his attentions, then spurned him later. A shamed heat burnt in her cheeks and her eyes dropped in dismay. How could she blame him for thinking what he did? She had indeed acted like the tease he’d accused her of always being.

      Thinking about what had happened between them in the lift, however, did not produce a guilty reaction for long. Instead, it flooded her mind with memories and her body with feelings that were very distracting, especially with Mike standing so close to her in his half-naked state.

      Her gaze slowly lifted to flick over him, lingering far too long on the tanned breadth of his shoulders and chest, the smattering of dark curls running from below his throat down to his navel, exposed by the rather low-slung pyjama-trousers.

      The sound of a groan coming from the bedroom had Salome’s eyes flying away from their perturbing travels to where two unsteady hands were appearing over the side of the bed, clutching at the sheet. Her heart somersaulted. Good grief, she had virtually forgotten all about Charles, her mind having been totally consumed by her escalating feelings for the man in front of her!

      But, with her assailant actually getting to his feet, fear renewed itself in a painfully constricted chest. Charles was a big man, even bigger than Mike, who was at present moving into the bedroom, leaving Salome clutching at the doorframe, her eyes big and frightened.

      Charles finally stood up, holding the side of his head. He threw Salome a vicious glare. ‘You bitch!’ he snarled, and made a jagged lunge forwards before suddenly seeing Mike standing on the other side of the bed. He was momentarily taken aback, wobbling on unsteady feet. But then he straightened, his mouth twisting in an ugly and aggressive fashion.

      ‘Called in the cavalry, did she? Well, it won’t do her any good. I’ll have that bitch in court for assault. I never touched her, you know,’ he flung at Mike. ‘If she says I did, she’s a liar. All I wanted to do was talk!’

      ‘You take off your shirt to talk?’ came the drawled comment from Mike.

      Charles’s blood-shot eyes blinked, his legal mind slowly ticking over. His moustache thinned further as his lips drew back in a smug smile. ‘So we were going to do more than talk. So what? Believe me, bud, she invited me in here. You don’t see any signs of a forced entry, do you?’

      ‘Nice try,’ Mike rejoined. ‘Too bad about the illegally kept set of keys in your pocket.’

      Guilt was written all over Charles’s face, but he tried to bluff his way out of it with a snarled, ‘She gave them to me.’

      Salome’s eyes raced to Mike. She was astonished at how unconcerned he looked as he moved around the foot of the bed to stand between Charles and herself, his arms folding in a nonchalant but confident fashion.

      ‘Who the bloody hell are you, anyway?’ Charles jeered. ‘Some fancy playboy neighbour she’s sucking up to already?’

      ‘Your judge and jury,’ Mike said in a low, steady voice.

      Charles looked taken aback for a second, then aggressive. He squared his shoulders, his wide-legged stance very threatening. ‘Don’t bite off more than you can chew, pretty boy. I was quite a boxer in my day.’

      ‘I’m terrified,’ Mike drawled, giving his opponent a dismissive glance.

      Charles’s face went red with fury. ‘Cocky bastard, aren’t you? Well, cop this!’ His fist shot out quickly, but Mike was quicker, side-stepping and grabbing Charles’s arm, twisting it round behind his back, then pushing him face-down on to the bed, his knee jamming down in the small of the lawyer’s back. Charles began making smothered groaning sounds.

      Mike held him there while he looked up at a wide-eyed, breathless Salome with amazing nonchalance.

      ‘Be a good girl and go and put some coffee on, will you?’ he suggested mildly. ‘I’ll be out to have it after your friend and I have had a little chat. He seems to be labouring under the most peculiar misconceptions about justice.’

      ‘Yes, but—’

      ‘Not now, Salome,’ he broke in firmly. ‘Later. Close the door and go.’

      She closed the door. But she didn’t go.

      She stood staring at the door for some time, amazed and undeniably impressed. She had never witnessed such a devastating display of macho skill and strength, and she felt quite overwhelmed by it all. Who would ever have guessed that Mike’s polished and gentlemanly façde hid such a powerful, primitive streak?

      A shiver raced up and down her spine at the realisation that such a man would stop at nothing to get his own way, particularly with the weaker sex. This thought should have struck dread into her heart, yet her only response was an upsurge in sexual excitement. Now she wanted him more than ever!

      She shook her head, disgusted with herself. What was the matter with her? Hadn’t she learnt from her mother’s mistakes? Heavens, she’d spent her entire life seeing the end result of relationships based on sex and sex alone! Which was all she’d ever have with Mike. The man didn’t like or respect her. He merely wanted her. To even contemplate an affair with him was crazy!

      Salome sighed crossly, turning to march across to the kitchen, where it took her ages to find the coffee-percolator and the essentials to make the ordered coffee, telling herself that if she weren’t indebted to Sir Galahad for flattening Charles she wouldn’t be making him any damn thing.

      ‘Not that Sir Galahad is a good description,’ she grumbled aloud as she shoved the plug into the power-point. ‘More like the Black Knight, come to ravage the fair damsel in distress rather than rescue her!’

      Several minutes later, the coffee-machine was perking away, its tantalising aroma teasing her nostrils, when the main bedroom door opened and Mike came out, leading a white-faced and oddly dressed Charles. The jacket and tie looked incongruous over his bare chest, his shirt still out in the hall.

      The beady grey eyes didn’t even glance her way as he was shepherded through the living area towards the front door. He looked amazingly cowered, and seemed to have shrunk a few inches.

      Salome watched the silent procession in awe, wondering what Mike had said or done to achieve such a transformation in her assailant, from blustering bully to total coward in ten minutes. Charles looked sick, but he didn’t look as if he’d been hit. Besides, she surely would have heard the sounds of a further beating?

      ‘Goodnight, Charles,’ Mike said equably as he opened the door. ‘I sincerely hope it won’t be necessary for us to meet again.’

      Charles looked even sicker at this, if that were possible, and stumbled out the door.

      Mike closed it with a quiet click, turning to walk slowly over to Salome. It flustered and annoyed her the way her heart stepped up its beat as he approached, not to mention the way she kept staring at him. She tried focusing her mind on her divorce and the pain it had caused, thinking that that would sway her from any further disastrous involvements with selfishly motivated males.

      But СКАЧАТЬ