Single Girl Abroad. Kelly Hunter
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Название: Single Girl Abroad

Автор: Kelly Hunter

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781408979006

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ live by my brother’s rules because I’m telling you now, you won’t get a second chance with him. If it’s easy money you’re after, go back to picking pockets. Then when you grow up you can join the real thieves and be an investment banker.’ Luke slid Maddy a sideways glance. ‘Or you can always try the minimal-effort, time-honoured method of improving your lot in life and marry someone with money. Happens all the time.’

      Maddy took the hit as she was meant to take it.

      Personally.

      ‘Now I know why your brother enjoys beating the daylights out of you,’ she murmured.

      ‘Trying,’ corrected Luke helpfully. ‘He enjoys trying to beat the daylights out of me. There’s a difference.’

      ‘Po, will you excuse us for a moment, please?’ said Madeline.

      ‘Can I get the wallet first?’

      ‘Maybe later,’ said Luke. ‘And if you steal anything else of Jake’s I swear you’ll be cleaning the dojo floor with a toothbrush.’

      Po grinned and disappeared.

      ‘Is your room locked?’ asked Madeline sweetly.

      Luke cursed and headed for the door. ‘Stay here,’ he told her and pointed towards the table. ‘Guard that while I escort Po to a kick-boxing class.’

      ‘Ah, the masculine mind at work,’ murmured Maddy as he swept past her, all hard and determined male. ‘It’s a wondrous thing.’

      ‘It’d help a lot if you didn’t actually speak,’ he said.

      She blew him a kiss instead. ‘Is that better?’

      ‘No.’

      She smiled her commiseration.

      Only when she was sure Luke Bennett was out of sight did Madeline give in to curiosity and turn her attention to the device on the table. Five minutes later she thought she had the simplicities of the detonation mechanism figured.

      ‘You should ask for permission before you start playing with a man’s toys,’ said a chocolate-smooth voice from behind her. ‘They might not be harmless.’

      Luke. He of the steady hands, stupendous body, and small brain.

      ‘What would happen if I cut this wire here?’ she asked.

      ‘Nothing.’

      ‘What about this one?’

      ‘Cut that one and life gets interesting,’ he said. ‘Jake said you and he were just friends.’

      ‘Aw-w-w. You’re still concerned about poaching? Aren’t you sweet?’ Best to turn and face danger head on—the better to know when to run. Madeline hadn’t learned that in any fancy Swiss finishing school but the lesson had stood her in excellent stead over the years nonetheless. She braced herself as she turned her head to look at him in an attempt to lessen the impact of that clear golden gaze. ‘But Jake’s right. I consider him a friend. I’m glad to hear that he considers me one.’

      ‘You didn’t know that he thinks of you as a friend?’ asked Luke with the lift of an eyebrow.

      ‘Your brother’s not an easy man to read,’ she offered with a slight smile. Madeline pitied the woman who set her sights on Jacob Bennett, she really did. ‘He doles his smiles and his welcomes out sparingly. You, on the other hand, don’t.’

      ‘Is this a bad thing?’ The smile Luke bestowed on her held more than its share of wicked charm.

      ‘For you? No.’ For the women on the receiving end of those easy smiles, she thought it might be. Time to stop gazing at that arresting face and concentrate on something else, decided Madeline. Like the stretch of a grey T-shirt over a chest wide and muscled. Like the play of veins from his elbows to his wrists as he leaned in beside her, his forearms on the table and his attention on the toaster.

      Luke’s shoulder brushed hers, ever so briefly, and ever so deliberately. No way did this man not know where every millimetre of his was at any given time. He turned his head towards her and his gaze skated over her face and came to rest on her mouth with a focus that made Madeline’s breath hitch somewhere in her throat and stay there.

      Madeline’s gaze slid helplessly to the sensual curve of his lips. Passion abundant, yet underscored by a firmness that hinted at iron control when Luke wanted control. Laughter in the grooves around the edges of those lips.

      ‘Seen enough?’ he murmured, and she who never blushed felt warmth creep up her neck and along her cheeks.

      ‘I think so.’ Cursing his appeal and her blatant reaction to it, Madeline turned her attention back to the apparatus on the table. ‘Where were we?’

      ‘No idea,’ he said. ‘But I think we should get it over with. It’d speed things up and, seeing as I’m only here for a week …’

      ‘Get what over with?’

      ‘Our first kiss.’ They were side by side, shoulder to shoulder, as he picked up the tiny wire cutters and carefully turned the detonator over to reveal another half a dozen wires. ‘One of them will disable the detonator without jamming the toaster. Question is, which one?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘You want to hazard a guess?’

      ‘Not particularly,’ she said. ‘I like to know what I’m doing—and why—before I do it. Take kissing you, for example.’

      ‘Good example,’ he said.

      ‘Happens I do know my way around a man’s mouth,’ she murmured. ‘Thing is, I’m not altogether sure why I’d want to kiss a man who despises me.’ She needed to see his face for this next question. She needed to think she wouldn’t get lost when she looked his way. ‘Is it the money you despise or the way I acquired it?’

      ‘Maybe you didn’t marry for money,’ he said, his eyes not leaving her face as he threw down his own question. ‘Maybe you loved your late husband.’

      Maddy stared into those warm tiger eyes for a very long time, wishing her answer could have been different. Wishing she could have said yes, yes, she had. But the one thing Madeline had never been was a liar and she didn’t intend to start now, no matter how strong the temptation. ‘I married William Delacourte for security and for the lifestyle he could give me. He was a good man. I respected him and never cheated on him. But if you’re asking me whether I loved him when I married him the answer is no.’

      Luke Bennett didn’t like that answer. She could see questions in his eyes—so many questions she didn’t know how to answer—and behind the questions, condemnation.

      ‘Did you sleep with him?’ he asked.

      ‘Have you been in love with every woman you’ve ever slept with?’ she answered coolly.

      ‘No,’ he answered, equally cool. ‘Did he know you didn’t love him?’

      ‘Yes.’

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