the time she came back into the living-room with a bowl full of warm water, another with hot water in it, a towel and some soap, determined to be Miss Efficiency, Jake had carried the dog over to the sofa. She watched as he clipped away sodden black fur from around several different wounds.
‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of you lighting a fire, is there?’ Dark eyes flicked across to the large, blackened inglenook fireplace. ‘Only it’s pretty cold in here and this dog needs all the warmth he can get.’
Olivia shivered; her own woollen dress felt decidedly damp from the rain and she was having to grit her teeth to stop them chattering together as it was. ‘I’m not very organised,’ she murmured, frowning at the fireplace. ‘There isn’t any wood or anything yet. I was going to get that kind of thing sorted out tomorrow.’ She paused, glad that she didn’t have to admit that she had never lit an open fire in her life before. ‘But I do have a couple of fan heaters. I bought them specially for the move. They should be in a case upstairs. I’ll go get them.’
The room felt a lot warmer after half an hour or so, not cosy exactly but better than when they had first entered. Olivia had found a couple of bulbs for the wall lights and retrieved a large rectangular rug from one of the packing cases, which she had spread over the bare boards. The dog had been encouraged to eat a special nourishing concoction that had been mixed from a selection of packets carried in the Range Rover.
‘Right. That’s just about all I can do for now.’ Jake Savage flexed his broad shoulders and released a long-drawn-out breath. ‘Don’t worry, he looks a lot worse than he is; he’s going to be fine,’ he added, seeing Olivia’s anxious gaze. ‘He just needs rest and a lot of feeding up now, and daily attention to his wounds, of course. They should heal well, though; he’s a young dog and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a swift recovery.’
Olivia smiled her relief. ‘That’s good.’ She glanced down at the sleeping animal. ‘Would you. . .like a cup of tea before you go?’ Olivia made her voice sound as casual as possible, and she glanced up into Jake Savage’s face. He looked tired; it crossed her mind that maybe he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. ‘I realise you’ve stayed far longer- than you wanted to, but the kettle’s just boiled, so. . .’
There was a slight pause and then the lips curled into a brief, unexpected smile. ‘That would be good—thank you. I take mine white, no sugar.’
Olivia released a cautious breath and found that relief was flooding through her. Jake Savage had been tending to the dog for almost an hour and in that time she had become increasingly anxious that once his task was at an end he would pick up his bag and the animal and walk out of her life without another word.
Why? The question raced into her mind. Why did it matter that she might not see him again?
He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that communicated a deeply ingrained tiredness, unthinkingly stretching to his full height of six feet plus, and immediately cracking his head against one of the low blackened beams.
‘Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?’ Olivia winced at the sound of his skull meeting oak and rushed towards him, frowning in sympathy, instinctively reaching up and touching the dark, glossy head. ‘This ceiling is dreadfully low, isn’t it? You’ll have to be careful in future.’
She stilled, her whole being transfixed by the feel of his thick black hair beneath her fingers, by the close proximity of Jake Savage’s powerful body, by her words. She was overwhelmingly conscious of what she had just said—the future? Did she think they had one? Did she imagine she would see this man again after today? Did she want to?
She tried to snatch her hand away, but Jake Savage was far too swift for her. ‘It’s just here,’ he murmured. His large hand covered hers, moving her fingers across his head. Dark, dangerous eyes looked down into her face. ‘Can you feel that?’
Olivia’s fingers came into contact with a raised bump and she nodded. ‘Y. . .yes.’ Physical contact with this man meant she was whispering again, as if the effect of touching or being touched by him somehow diminished the power of her vocal cords. ‘It must hurt,’ she murmured, wishing she had the strength to pull her fingers free, knowing deep down that she didn’t want to.
His gaze was intense, focusing steadily on her increasingly mobile expression.
Olivia swallowed. A stillness settled over the interior of the room. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. There was no confusing this sensation of inevitability. Olivia ran her tongue nervously over her parched lips and waited, catching her breath a little as the dark head lowered very slowly, very deliberately.
This was what she had been waiting for all of her life. She hadn’t been wrong before.
This man called Jake Savage would mean something to her, meeting him, wanting him, loving him.
This was her destiny.
CHAPTER TWO
JAKE claimed her whole being with a passionate, sensual kiss that caused Olivia’s world to tilt on its axis. His mouth was warm and sensual and searching. Her lips parted of their own accord and she felt the true taste of him, she felt the energy, the longing, the need burning between them. . .
No words were necessary. What was there to say? The electricity, the unexplainable certainty that this would happen, had been between them from the beginning. Since that first look, that first touch. . .
His hands were impatient. Searching, moving sensually over the close-fitting dress, exploring every outline, every curve. She gasped as he dragged his mouth from her lips and began kissing the arched curve of her neck, pulling back her cardigan from her shoulders to reveal the covered zip of her dress.
Olivia’s hands flew to his shirt, twisting, gripping the fabric. She felt as if she were drowning and only this man could save her. Trembling fingers slipped beneath the fabric and she felt for the first time the true power of his frame, the strength of pure muscle, the softness of tanned skin, the roughness of dark, curling hair. She felt, too, his reaction to her touch, the sharp breath, the increased pressure of his mouth on her lips.
It was the swift intensity that affected her so deeply. She wanted, shockingly, to be free of the restriction of her clothes. She wanted, she ached to feel the roughness of his hands on her naked body. . .
He knew. Men like Jake Savage always knew.
She gasped as his fingers grazed her skin. Feelings Olivia didn’t even know she possessed spun wildly around inside her head as he began to unfasten her dress. This passion that had been there, lying between them from the beginning, needed assuaging, it needed to reach the ultimate climax. No time to talk, no time to get to know one another—that could come later. . .
‘My bedroom. . .upstairs.’ Her voice was a whisper. A great part of her could hardly believe she was daring to be so bold. Cool, prim Olivia Hamilton? ‘Frigid Olivia’, as Paul had once described her?
‘Has it a bed?’ His voice was deep and husky, his mouth warm and hungry against her skin.
‘Of course.’ She raised her head and kissed him passionately, pressing her body against his towering frame. ‘At least, I hope so. . .’
‘In that case. . .’ Jake swung her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather and carried her effortlessly up the narrow staircase.
His
