style="font-size:15px;"> ‘I suppose not,’ she answered dryly, knowing she should leave, but slightly reluctant to do so. These few minutes’ conversation, during the quiet early hours of the morning, had been something of a truce. Tomorrow, she didn’t doubt, they would be back to their normal armed warfare.
Gideon eyed the rugby top she wore. ‘Sam’s?’ he guessed dryly.
The top reached almost down to her knees, and the sleeves were pushed back so that the cuffs shouldn’t hang off the ends of her hands. But it was comfortable, and at three-thirty in the morning that was what she wanted to be.
‘I certainly hope so—otherwise I’ve lost an awful lot of weight!’ she teased lightly.
‘You’re perfect just as you are,’ Gideon said huskily.
Molly’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Had Gideon, of all people, just given her a compliment?
No, he couldn’t have done.
Could he…?
Gideon gave a slight smile as he saw the disbelief on her face that she was just too surprised to hide. ‘I’ve given you rather a hard time over the last few days, haven’t I?’ he murmured huskily.
Molly eyed him warily. ‘No harder than I’ve given you,’ she answered guardedly, remembering his anger earlier this evening when she had mentioned his feelings towards Crys.
Feelings, she realised with a sudden jolt, that he had been angry about her mentioning but had never actually denied…
Gideon stood up abruptly. ‘Don’t start letting your imagination run away with you again,’ he advised her harshly.
Molly’s chin rose defensively. ‘Isn’t that what we’ve both been doing these last few minutes?’ she challenged. ‘There is probably no connection at all between those telephone calls, the car I saw and Merlin getting lost,’ she said impatiently. ‘Emotions just seem to run a little high at Christmas time.’ She gave a derisive shake of her head.
‘Is that what it is?’ Gideon murmured softly, moving silently across the kitchen to stand only inches away from her. ‘Is that the reason that at any given moment I either want to smack your bottom or kiss you? And I’m never quite sure which it’s going to be until the moment happens.’ He shook his head. ‘Does that mean that in two days’ time this madness is going to stop?’ he added hopefully.
Molly stared up at him, too much aware of the silence of the sleeping house and its inhabitants not to know how dangerous this particular situation was. Especially as she knew herself to be in love with this man.
But how did Gideon feel about her? Like smacking her or kissing her, he had claimed, with little to choose between the emotions.
‘I expect it does.’ She nodded abruptly.
‘Pity,’ Gideon bit out, holding her gaze locked with his.
Molly moistened dry lips, swallowing hard. Exactly what had he meant by that? He couldn’t actually be enjoying this roller coaster of feelings every time the two of them were together?
‘You’re very kissable, you know, Molly,’ he added huskily, his gaze sliding to the movement of her tongue across her lips.
He eyes widened in alarm at how quickly the atmosphere had changed between them. From antagonism to intimacy in a matter of seconds. And it was wrong. All wrong.
She eyed him with deliberate mockery. ‘So I’ve been told,’ she taunted.
His head came up, his mouth tight as his narrowed gaze clashed with hers. Clashed and held, in the mental battle of wills taking place between them.
To Molly’s chagrin she was the first to look away, unable to sustain the challenge she had initiated between them because Gideon was standing close enough for her to be able to feel the heat of his body, to faintly smell the aftershave she knew he favoured.
‘You did that on purpose,’ he rasped suddenly, reaching out to grasp the tops of her arms.
Well, of course she had done it on purpose—how else could she have broken the intimacy that had been deepening between them by the second? Although she only seemed to have made the situation worse—Gideon was actually touching her now. And every time he did that her legs went weak at the knees.
‘Why, Molly?’ He shook her slightly. ‘What are you running away from?’
‘You, of course,’ she gasped, staring up at him incredulously. ‘It isn’t very comfortable for me being on the receiving end of your wanting to either smack my bottom or kiss me.’
Gideon became very still, his eyes dark as he looked at her. ‘At the moment I want to kiss you,’ he murmured throatily.
‘I know,’ she groaned.
She had known that for the last few minutes—would be a fool not to know that. But where would that get them? Nowhere, she knew. Which was why it would be better for everyone if it didn’t happen.
Except she wanted him to kiss her, too—ached to have him kiss her, to finish what they had started earlier!
‘Molly…!’ Gideon had time to murmur her name gruffly before his mouth once again claimed hers.
He was right. This was madness. But it was a madness Molly was no more able to stop than Gideon apparently was, and her lips parted to the pressure of his, her body curving against his hard contours even as her hands moved up over his shoulders, her fingers becoming entwined in the blond thickness of his hair.
These emotions had just been put on hold, she realised dazedly. Sam’s interruption earlier had been only a respite from a desire neither of them seemed able to resist.
Gideon raised his head slightly to look at her. ‘Why is it we’re always in the kitchen when I kiss you?’ he murmured self-derisively, his lips lightly grazing her temple.
‘Because it’s the warmest room in the house?’ she suggested huskily, aware of this man with every fibre of her body.
Gideon looked at her with dark, fathomless eyes. ‘I’m very warm. Aren’t you?’
Warm? She was on fire!
‘Quite warm,’ she answered softly, suddenly shy. The time, the stillness of the house, was making it seem as if they were the only two people on the planet.
‘Let’s go into the sitting-room,’ Gideon suggested gruffly, and he took her hand in his and turned to leave the kitchen.
Molly hesitated. The fire still glowed in the sitting-room. There was a sofa—a very comfortable one—in the sitting-room. And this was Gideon, a man who had expressed nothing but contempt for her.
She shook her head. ‘Gideon, I don’t think—’
‘No—don’t think,’ he encouraged throatily, turning back to cup one side of her face with the warmth of his hand. ‘Whenever the two of us start to think, collectively or singly, that’s when things go wrong between us.’ He bent his head to kiss her lingeringly
