Chosen As The Frenchman's Bride. Эбби Грин

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      She looked up, the question on her face, captivated by his gaze, which looked back down at her, lazily assessing. This man who had dominated nearly her every thought since yesterday.

      ‘What are you looking at?’ she croaked.

      ‘You,’he answered with deceptive simplicity, and the word rocked through Jane’s body.

      ‘Who…who are you?’

      He didn’t answer, just kept a loose, yet immovable grip on her wrist. She could feel her pulse thumping against the warm skin of his hand like a captured bird. Something in her blood leapt, and excited anticipation built in her belly. The part of her that he had reached yesterday, unknown and alien, was coming to life again…just under his look. He smiled indolently, before his eyes left hers to look her up and down so thoroughly that she felt naked, exposed. A flush spread from her belly all the way up to her neck. She tried to yank her wrist away to no avail; his grip only tightened. He couldn’t possibly remember her, could he?

      Nerves made her blurt out, ‘Who do you think you are? How dare you look at me like that…?’

      His eyes bored into hers, the green becoming darker, making him look dangerous, ‘You pretend to not recognise me?’

      He remembered.

      ‘No…well, that is, yes. I saw you yesterday in the street…when you bumped into me.’

      ‘As I recall it was the other way around, n’est ce pas?’

      His voice sounded as though it had been dipped in honey treacle, deep and dark, with only the barest hint of an accent, his English flawless. She was finding it hard to concentrate.

      ‘I was just reading a map. Surely you saw me…’ She cursed the breathless tone in her voice.

      He ran a quick glance up and down again. ‘Oh, I saw you all right.’

      She saw the amusement lurking in his eyes and she tried to pull away again. This time he let her go, and she felt inexplicably bereft.

      ‘You should have been looking where you were going. You could have collided with a more…immovable object.’

      From what she could remember, all too well, he had been like a wall…a wall of hard-packed muscle. She felt her legs weaken. More than disturbed by the effect he was having on her, she looked at him incensed,

      ‘The street was empty…it’s hardly a crime to divert one’s attention for a moment.’

      He inclined his head in a surprisingly old-fashioned gesture. ‘Maybe we can agree that we were equally to blame.’

      She huffed slightly. ‘It’s no big deal.’

      ‘Yet you are the one who seems to be upset about it,’ he pointed out, picking up on her discomfort.

      Jane looked around then, and saw that they were alone in the building. Everyone else had disappeared. When had that happened?

      She looked out through the door and sighed with relief when she saw the bus, where the others were embarking. She turned to find him right behind her, and stepped back hurriedly.

      ‘I have to go…that’s my bus leaving now.’

      He caught her hand just as she turned away. Her pulse leapt again.

      ‘Would you do me the honour of being my dinner guest tonight? To…foster a truce and allow me to make amends for my part in our collision.’

      He was smooth, and practised, and too, too seductive. Jane shook her head, slightly dazed. He was asking her out for dinner? Her eyes met his. No way, no way, went through her mind. This man was so out of her league that he might as well be from another planet. She didn’t have the wherewithal to sit across a table from him! She’d dissolve in a puddle within minutes. And the way he was looking at her…as though he wanted to have her for dinner!

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said stiffly, pulling her hand free. ‘I…I have arrangements made already, but thank you for asking.’

      His eyes probed hers for an uncomfortably long moment, and then he shrugged lightly, a shuttered look descending over his face. ‘Very well.’

      Now she had offended him, she thought miserably. Without knowing what to say or do, she stepped away and half ran, half walked back to the bus.

      She sank into her seat breathing heavily. She felt hot and bothered, her hand still tingling where he had caught it. Jane evaded Sherry’s very pointed look and stared out of the window.

      All the way back to the mainland she veered between feeling as if she had made a lucky escape and extreme self-recrimination. Since bumping into him she had thought of little else, even fantasised about having dinner with him, but when she was offered the opportunity what did she do? Refused point-blank.

      She didn’t deserve a date with such a man if she couldn’t even handle being asked out. And why had he asked her out? She couldn’t fathom it. She could tell that he was mannerly—perhaps it was a pilot thing, a code of conduct? Although somehow he didn’t look like just a pilot. Her brain began to throb. She couldn’t help but feel as though she had let herself down in some way. She could well imagine Lisa’s reaction.

      Back on land, she sighed to herself, trying to catch a glimpse of the island which was too far away to view in the late-afternoon haze. She would just have to put it down to experience. A man like Lisa’s brother Dominic was obviously all she could handle…maybe this was a sign.

      When she saw the others get on the bus for their hotel she followed them on board.

      Fifteen minutes later they pulled off the road and into a resort. It screamed extreme wealth. Immaculate lawns and manicured gardens led up to a beautiful hacienda-style building, all in white. In the early dusk lights shone from the windows, gauzy curtains fluttering in the breeze. She read the name of the hotel carved discreetly into a low stone wall, and only registered then how well dressed her companions were.

      She had tagged on to a day trip from one of the Lézille Hotels. No wonder the name had sounded familiar. The owner of the island obviously also owned this very well-known string of resorts dotted all over the world in prime locations and renowned for their discretion, luxuriousness, exclusivity.

      She followed the others into the lobby and they split off in different directions. Just as she went to look for the tourist office Sherry stopped her. ‘Hey, Jane, why don’t you come back here for dinner tonight? You said you were on your own, and we’ve made friends with a guy from Washington DC who works in town…We could make a foursome; he’d love your accent.’

      Jane opened her mouth on reflex to say no, and stopped herself. Had she learnt nothing from her recent experience? Here she was, being offered another chance. She smiled at Sherry. ‘I’d love to.’

      ‘Plus, I want to hear all about your conversation with Mr Gorgeous!’

      Jane’s smile faded. They would most certainly not be discussing that. She made a mental note to make sure the conversation never strayed into that area.

      Once she had sorted out payment for the trip with a very bemused СКАЧАТЬ