Название: In the Australian's Bed
Автор: Miranda Lee
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon By Request
isbn: 9781408905821
isbn:
‘That was presumptuous of you, Jake,’ came her surprisingly cool-sounding remark. Inside, she felt far from cool.
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind. I thought you might like to see where I live. I’m happy to drive you back to the hotel later in the afternoon. If you want to change for dinner, that is. But you look perfectly fine to go out with me exactly as you are.’
She laughed. ‘You have today all planned out, don’t you?’
‘Being a lawyer has taught me that it’s always wise to have a plan.’
‘And do things always go according to your plans?’
‘On the whole. But there are exceptions, of which I suspect you might be one,’ he finished with a rueful sigh.
She smiled, gratified that he thought she had more will-power and character than she actually possessed at that moment.
‘You said one day at a time,’ he reminded her. ‘This is just one day, Angelina.’
He was right. It was. But she knew how Jake aimed for this day to end. All she could hope was that, when the time came, she had the courage to say no to him.
CHAPTER NINE
‘YOU hear people saying how spectacular Sydney Harbour is,’ Angelina said as they leant against the deck railing of the cruiser. ‘I’ve admired it from afar many times. In movies and on television and from hotel-room windows. But it’s not till you’re on the water itself that you appreciate its beauty, and its size. Thank you so much for this experience, Jake.’
‘I thought you might enjoy it.’
She truly had. Every bit of it. The views. The food. But especially the company.
Jake had to be one of the most intelligent and interesting men she’d ever talked to. Even if he wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous and she hadn’t been madly attracted to him, she’d have enjoyed his company these past three hours. They’d chatted about so many different topics, getting to know each other as the adults they’d become, not the teenagers they’d once been. She’d discovered they had similar tastes in books and movies, thrillers being their entertainment of choice. After agreeing to disagree on what kind of music was best, they’d argued happily about politics, discussed the world’s leaders failing with peace and the environment, and in general had a great time, solving everything themselves with sweeping words of wisdom.
None of this would have been possible, Angelina realised, but for the other people on the cruise. Mostly tourists, with cameras which were whipped up at every opportunity to snap pictures of the bridge, the opera house and the shoreline. Their constant presence had allowed her to drop her defences and be more relaxed with Jake than she had been since he’d walked back into her life. It had been good to forget the threat of being seduced for a while and just enjoy Jake, the person, and not Jake, the sexual predator.
She was even beginning to reassess that judgement of him. Maybe she’d been harsh in thinking he was that shallow when it came to relationships. Just because he didn’t want marriage and children didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of caring, in a fashion. Of course, his track record with women wasn’t great. Even he’d admitted to that. But even men like Jake could change, couldn’t they? Maybe he was getting to that age when he was ready for commitment.
But was he ready for a ready-made son, complete with mother attached?
Angelina felt that was too large a leap of faith.
No. Jake, the man, would still not be pleased when she finally told him the truth. Which was perhaps why she couldn’t tell him yet. For one thing, she didn’t want to spoil today. Surely she deserved one day of being totally selfish, of just being Angelina, the woman, not Angelina, the mother? It was so nice to be squired around by Jake, to have him lavish attention on her, to feel desired and wanted.
Of course, it was risky. But it was worth the risk to feel what she was feeling at the moment. Not in sixteen years had she experienced anything like it. This fizz of excitement dancing along her veins and through her head. Her very light head, she suddenly realised.
Her laugh sounded rather girlish, even to her own ears. ‘I think I’ve had too much to drink.’ The white wines served up with the buffet lunch had been excellent, and so easy to swallow.
‘I’ll make you some coffee when we get up to my place,’ Jake offered. ‘It’s just a short walk from the wharf. Come on, this is where we get off.’
He hadn’t lied about the shortness of the walk. But it was still far too long with her hand warmly encased within Jake’s. By the time they’d strolled up the hill to his apartment block, and ridden up in the lift—alone together—to the fifteenth floor, Angelina was desperate to put some physical distance between them. She was glad when he dropped her hand to unlock and open his front door. But that was only a short respite. She needed longer.
‘I—er—have to use your bathroom,’ she said as soon as Jake shut the door behind them.
He gave her a sharp look, as though he knew exactly what she was doing. And why.
‘This way,’ he said crisply.
Her five-minute stay in the bathroom helped, although not the sight of the bathroom. How many people had bathrooms which had black marble right to the ceiling, not to mention real gold taps and corner spa baths big enough for two?
Angelina recalled that the living room—which she’d followed Jake across on her way to the bathroom—also had black marble tiles on the floor, not to mention thick white rugs, red leather furniture, sexy steel lamps and a television as big as a movie screen. Then there was the far wall, which was all glass, beyond which was a wide terrace and a view to die for.
The place had ‘seduction palace’ written all over it!
‘This is a very expensive apartment, Jake,’ she said when she finally joined him in the kitchen. It, too, had the same black marble on the bench-tops, and the latest in stainless-steel appliances. Above the double sinks was a wide window that overlooked the terrace and caught some more of the brilliant view of the harbour, and the bridge.
‘It was all Edward’s doing,’ he said as he spooned the coffee into attractive stoneware mugs. ‘He insisted I buy a flashy harbourside apartment with some of my inheritance.’
‘Well…this is flashy all right.’
He looked up from his coffee-making, his expression disappointed. ‘You don’t like it.’
‘No, no, I do. What’s not to like? It’s just…well…it does have “bachelor pad” written all over it.’
‘True. СКАЧАТЬ