and you know it.
To distract herself she picked up a cloth and started to wipe down the bench. ‘No one else up yet?’
‘You don’t have to do that.’ He swooped, his fingers brushing her skin as he tugged the cloth out of her hand.
Trails of desire shot through her. This was crazy on so many levels and she had to act. ‘Look, Matt, I’m sorry I had to prevail on your family for a bed, although you were the one who offered. Obviously me being here is a problem and I’d like to apologise to your wife for the inconvenience.’
He lowered the dishcloth onto the sink, the action slow and deliberate. When he raised his head she experienced a chill.
‘My wife isn’t here.’
And you’re an incredibly gorgeous guy that women viscerally react to even when they’re sensible and know they shouldn’t. ‘And she’s not OK with me being here. I get it.’
He grimaced. ‘No, you don’t get it at all, Poppy.’ The ping of the kettle sounded bright and cheery, in sharp contrast to the strain in his voice and the emptiness in his eyes. ‘She died.’
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