Alien Wife. Anne Mather
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Название: Alien Wife

Автор: Anne Mather

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon Modern

isbn: 9781472099532

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ steadily downwards.

      ‘Oh, please …’

      Eyes mirroring fear stared into his, and he shook his head cynically. ‘Don’t worry,’ he told her, continuing to slide the windcheater from her shoulders. ‘Even I would find it difficult to rape you in this vehicle!’

      Her cheeks burned. ‘You shouldn’t say things like that!’

      ‘Why not? That is what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?’

      ‘No.’ She pulled her arms free of the jacket and he cast it into the back along with his own. She pressed the balled fist of one hand into the palm of the other. ‘I—I don’t think you would do a thing like that.’

      ‘Don’t you?’ His expression was wry. ‘I’m not sure I like that.’

      ‘Please! Stop baiting me.’

      Driven beyond reason, her eyes were desperate, and his features hardened. ‘What would you have me do with you, then?’

      She shook her head, staring down helplessly at her knees, and with a tremor of apprehension she felt his hand slide over and grip her nape under the silky curtain of her hair.

      ‘You know, I should have had more sense!’ he muttered, and she looped back her hair behind one ear to look at him.

      ‘Wh-why?’

      He regarded her for a long disturbing minute. Then, before she could offer any resistance, he leant forward and kissed the down-soft curve of her cheek. His mouth was warmly compelling, and for an instant she had the craziest urge to tilt back her head so that his lips would encounter hers. It was not a calculated reaction, and its urgency left her strangely weak.

      ‘Oh, Abby,’ he said, resting his head back against the soft leather. ‘Someone should have warned me about you!’

      ‘Wh-what about me?’

      He chewed impatiently at the inner skin of his lower lip. ‘How old did you say you were? Seventeen? Eighteen?’

      ‘I’m twenty,’ she asserted hotly. ‘At least, I shall be next month.’

      ‘Twenty!’ He shook his head, moving it from side to side against the headrest. ‘And did no one ever teach you the facts of life?’

      ‘Of course!’ She tried to shrug his hand away from her nape, but he didn’t let her go. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

      He flexed his back muscles. ‘I don’t believe you do.’ He straightened, looking at her through narrowed lids. ‘You know what I think?’ He raised his eyebrows, but she made no reply, so he went on: ‘I think you should try your claws on someone else—someone less likely to take advantage of you.’

      ‘You’re not—taking advantage of me …’

      Luke’s lips twisted. ‘And you don’t think I would?’

      ‘Would you?’

      He flung himself back in his seat, his hands seeking the case of cheroots he always kept in the car. When he had one between his teeth, he nodded savagely. ‘You’re a beautiful girl, Abby. If no one’s ever told you that, let me be the first to reassure you. And I am only human! You’ve been throwing yourself at my head ever since you laid eyes on me, and while I’m perfectly willing to oblige, something tells me that that’s not what you want …’

      ‘And if it was?’

      She spoke breathily, and he took the unlighted cheroot out of his mouth to stare at her disbelievingly. ‘Abby, if it’s a film star you want to be, it’s Scott you should be talking to.’

      ‘It’s not.’

      Unknowingly provocative, her tongue appeared to wet her upper lip, and with a muffled oath he dropped the cheroot on the floor, his hands sliding possessively over her shoulders, compelling her towards him. His mouth on hers moved back and forward insistently, warm and probing, and disruptively sensual. Did he know she had never been kissed before? she fretted anxiously. Did he realise all the knowledge she possessed came from books like his own?

      ‘Stop fighting me, Abby,’ he spoke against the corner of her mouth, and she moved her head confusedly.

      ‘I’m not fighting you,’ she protested, the words dying on a gulp when his hand slid beneath her sweater to grip her bare midriff.

      ‘Come on,’ he breathed, his tongue tracing the curve of her lips. ‘Open your mouth …’

      ‘Open—oh!’

      Her puzzled objection was stifled by the pressure of his mouth, forcing her lips apart to admit the searching penetration of his. No amount of reading, however adult, could have prepared her for the sensations he was arousing inside her, sensations that left her weak and submissive, neither seeking nor repelling the demands he was making on her. She didn’t resist when his hand probed further beneath her sweater, cupping one rounded breast and stroking the nipple with his thumb, but Luke could feel the thrusting urgency of his own body and he could no longer ignore it. For long, lingering seconds, his mouth continued to possess hers, and then he pushed her away from him, shoving open his door violently and getting out, heedless of the falling rain.

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