Smokescreen Marriage. Sara Craven
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He frowned. ‘With this Lisa?’ There was a sudden austerity in his voice.
‘Oh, no,’ Kate said hastily. ‘We were colleagues here for the season, and it just seemed—convenient. My flatmate in London is called Sandy, and she’s very different. She works as a researcher on a national newspaper.’ She hesitated. ‘I shall—miss her when I move.’
‘You are planning to do so?’ He sounded politely interested.
‘Yes,’ she said. She took a deep breath. ‘Actually—I’m going to be married. Quite soon. So—you see—I have every reason to be grateful for what you did for me. And I do—thank you. Very much indeed.’
There was silence—a slow tingling silence that threatened to stretch into eternity. Expressionlessly, Michael Theodakis looked down at her ringless hands. Studied them. Returned to her face.
He said, ‘You are very much in love?’
‘Naturally.’ Kate stiffened defensively.
‘And is it also natural to enjoy erotic fantasies about another man—a stranger?’
Her mouth was suddenly very dry. ‘My fiancé is the one who matters. I’m not interested in anyone else.’
‘Truly?’ he asked softly. ‘I wonder.’ He pushed back his chair and came round the table to her, pulling her up out of her seat. His arms went round her, pulling her close to his body. Then he bent his head and kissed her, slowly and very thoroughly, his enjoyment of her mouth unashamedly sensuous.
Time stilled. His tongue was slow fire against hers, the practised mouth teaching her things she’d never known she needed to learn. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe—or think.
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