When Only Diamonds Will Do. Lindsay Armstrong

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When Only Diamonds Will Do - Lindsay  Armstrong

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falling, she thought. In love or prey to a massive physical attraction? Strange, he didn’t lay a hand on me today, other than just before…‘You made your intentions clear,’ she said to Sunny Bob, who was lying on the carpet beside her.

      The dog lifted his head and thumped his tail, then went back to sleep.

      Kim grimaced and pictured what would have happened but for Sunny Bob. She would have revelled in Reith’s arms, she knew. Just the thought of it now made her blush and she picked up her perfume bottle and touched the cool glass to her cheeks.

      Whoa, she thought then. Take it slowly, Kim. Don’t let this get out of hand. You need to know a lot more about this man …

      She put the bottle down and picked up her brush, turning it slowly over and over in her hand as she thought of some of her actions today. Such as, for example, her precipitous dash from the cool and shade of the umbrella down the beach to the water earlier.

      What had prompted that had been embarrassment. Yes, she wanted to know more about him but, in hindsight, asking him if he was married had sounded juvenile, and then intrusive, especially in the light of learning he had lost his wife.

      So what was it about him that threw her off her usually even keel? she wondered. That underlying disapproval she’d sensed in him from the start? But why would he disapprove of her? Unless he thought she was completely wacky. But, if so, why would he want to keep on seeing her …?

      Perhaps that was part of her enjoyment in his company, however—the light-hearted sparring she, at least, undertook, to challenge his perception of her?

      She shook her head and stood up and got dressed. Her choice was a pair of dark grey palazzo pants and a silvery-grey halter top with wide lapels at the front and a low back. She wore no jewellery and no bra. Her shoes were high black sandals, her hair was sleek and smoothed back in a chignon.

      Not over-dressed, not under-dressed, just right, she thought as she studied her reflection. The sun and the surf had given her a glow but there was still a frown in her eyes, indicating some inner unease.

      She wandered over to her harp and plucked the strings. Romance, she conceded, had been a slightly bumpy road for her until she’d learnt to sort the wheat from the chaff—sort the men who were on the make and drawn by her wealthy parents and background more than by her soul, she thought with a dry little twist of her lips.

      And, sadly, there had been more of the ‘on the make’ kind than the other with the result that she was very wary these days and on the lookout for fortune-hunters. Wary, somewhat hardened and definitely cynical. But did Reith Richardson fall into that class?

      On the surface, it appeared not. He didn’t seem to be at all interested in her background, but of course they’d only known each other for a short time. Yet there was something—her brow creased—a sort of stamp of authority about him that was impressive. There was also a reserve she sensed.

      She sighed and picked up her purse at the sound of a car on the drive. ‘Just—take it very slowly with this man,’ she advised herself and went downstairs to be driven into town.

      A few hours later, she stirred in his arms and said in a low husky voice, ‘Do you ever take your own advice?’

      He swung her round on the small, darkened, crowded floor with its coloured spotlights above, and they came together again. They’d danced for hours. It was the height of sophistication, the nightclub, on the second floor of a beautifully restored old building in Bunbury, and the music had been sensational.

      ‘Sometimes.’ He looked down at her rather wryly. ‘How about you?’

      ‘Not always.’ She laid her head on his shoulder as, rather than dancing, they swayed to the music and, as she’d suspected, she revelled in being in his arms.

      In fact, when she’d first laid eyes on him, when she’d walked into the restaurant and he’d stood up in a dark suit, the jacket of which had moulded his broad shoulders, she’d missed a step because he’d been so darkly attractive. From that moment on she’d been physically conscious of him in a way that had taken her by storm because she’d never felt this way before, never had her senses so stirred up by a man.

      At the same time as a river of rhythm had flowed through her veins, so had a river of sensuality. His hands on her hips had ignited a swathe of sensation up and down her body. And to rest her body against his, to feel the hard strength of him, the power, had made her feel as light as a feather and giddy with pleasure.

      ‘Not always, which is very stupid of me. I—’

      The music stopped, the band announced they were having a break and some recorded music took over.

      Kim didn’t finish what she was saying and sighed as they drew apart, then she led the way back to their table.

      ‘More champagne?’ he queried.

      She shook her head. ‘Just some iced water, thanks.’

      ‘Not a bad idea,’ he agreed. ‘Why stupid? Now? At this moment in time?’ he queried.

      Kim put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her clasped hands. ‘I was going to take things very, very slowly with you, Mr Richardson,’ she said. ‘That was not supposed to include dancing the night away.’ Kim smiled austerely. ‘Do you have the same problem I have?’

      He raised his eyebrows. ‘The disinclination to keep my hands off you?’

      ‘Something like that,’ she said ruefully and thanked the waiter who brought them two glasses of iced water with slices of lemon. ‘But perhaps we should—’ She paused.

      ‘We should look before we leap?’ he suggested with some irony.

      Kim narrowed her eyes as she caught the irony and said tartly, despite it being not what she wanted to do at all, ‘My sentiments entirely.’

      He put his head on one side and studied her. ‘That annoyed you?’

      ‘Not at all.’

      ‘That I should feel we need to stop and think?’ he persisted.

      ‘Well…no, we should! But—’ she paused ‘—you didn’t sound entirely genuine. More, in fact, as if you were paraphrasing, with sarcasm, what you thought I would say.’

      ‘It was the awful euphemism I used that offended me,’ he said.

      Kim stared at him. ‘Look before we leap?’ she murmured, then her lips curved and she started to laugh.

      He put his hand over hers on the table and laughed with her, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

      Then he looked at his watch. ‘Your car will be here shortly. I ordered it for midnight.’

      Kim removed her hand. ‘That solves that. I can go home feeling like Cinderella.’

      He ignored that. ‘Do you have any more time off?’

      Kim blinked at the change of subject. ‘Two more days.’

      ‘Tomorrow, would you like to help me select some classy artwork?’

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