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The Bedroom Barter
But not in anything that could be recognised as a kiss. That was the real shock of it all. Because the tight-lipped pressure of his mouth on hers was simply that—physical contact without an atom of desire or sensuality.
A harsh, untender parody of a caress.
And one that was over almost as soon as it had begun.
Chellie leaned back against the wall, her legs barely able to support
her, looking up at him, trying and failing to read his face.
She said in a voice she barely recognised, ‘What was—that about?’
He said, ‘That was Manuel in a Jeep, with another guy driving him.’ He paused. ‘Bald, built like a bull. Do you know him?’
‘Rico. He’s a bouncer at the club.’ Chellie spoke numbly, trying to drag together the remnants of her composure without success. ‘Did they see us?’
‘I think they might have stopped if so,’ he said drily. ‘Besides, I made sure you were well hidden.’
‘Yes,’ she said. And, again, ‘Yes.’ So that was why … She shivered.
He took her hand again. ‘Come on.’
She hung back, staring up at him, her eyes blank with fright. ‘What are we going to do now?’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
He shrugged. ‘We go down to the marina and get aboard the boat, as planned. What else?’
‘But—everything’s changed.’ Her voice was a little wail of protest. ‘They’ll be there first—waiting for us.’
‘Then we’ll make damned sure they don’t see us.’ He sounded appallingly calm. ‘But I’d bet any money that they’re not going anywhere near the marina. Trust me on that, if nothing else.’
He put his arm round her and set off down the quay again at a brisker pace. ‘On the other hand, I’d prefer us not to be loitering around on their return journey. Going on a wild goose chase often brings out the worst in people,’ he added wryly.
Chellie went with him mechanically, her thoughts in turmoil. But it wasn’t simply the threat of discovery that plagued her. Because, to her own amazement, that no longer seemed to be her first priority.
Instead, she found she was reliving the moment when she’d stood with him in the darkness with his mouth on hers. Examining—analysing every trembling second of it.
And realising, to her horror, that she’d wanted more. That she’d needed him to recognise that she was female to his male. That she—wanted him.
The breath caught in her throat.
My God, she thought, with a touch of hysteria. It’s completely crazy. How can I be feeling like this? I—I don’t even know his name.
Nevertheless, that was the shaming truth she had to face—to endure. That there’d been more than a moment when she’d actually wanted her lips to part under his, inviting—imploring his deeper and more intimate invasion. When she’d longed to feel his hands on her body—the sting of his thighs against hers.
A soft, aching instant when she’d been ready to go wherever he might lead.
A small sound escaped her, halfway between a laugh and a sob.
He noticed instantly. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ Chellie disclaimed instantly. ‘At least—I—don’t think I’m handling this situation very well.’
He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was abrupt. ‘You’re doing all right.’
It wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. She’d hardly expected praise of the highest order, but she’d hoped, at least, for a little warmth and reassurance.
She thought, I wanted him to smile at me as if he meant it …
But I mustn’t think like that, she told herself in sudden anguish. It isn’t right. And it certainly isn’t safe.
Although his arm round her felt safe. Safe—but oddly impersonal. Just as his kiss had been.
Well, now she knew the reason for that totally sexless performance. I made sure you were well hidden.
Someone to watch over me, she thought wearily. That’s what I wanted, so I can hardly complain about the way he does it. And it was only a minute ago, anyway, that he told me I wasn’t his type.
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