Betrayed by Love. Diana Palmer
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She couldn’t know that he’d suddenly seen her as a woman when she’d kissed that boy so hungrily. It had gotten worse when he’d confronted them in the bathhouse, and the desire he’d felt for her had almost knocked him to his knees.
He hadn’t even meant to take her out tonight. But the lure of her was irresistible. He couldn’t stop. And it wasn’t bad that she was experienced; he was even glad, in a way, because he had too many scruples about seducing innocents. If he made love to a virgin, he’d feel an obligation to marry her. It wasn’t a modern outlook, but then he wasn’t a modern man. He was country bred and raised, for all his money.
She looked sad, he thought, studying her. His own emotions confused and irritated him. He wanted her until she was a living obsession in his mind. He ached all over already, and he hadn’t even touched her. His dark eyes narrowed, studying her. She was lovely, all right. A walking, breathing temptation. Yes, it was just as well that she wasn’t innocent. If he didn’t believe her to be sophisticated, he’d never be able to seduce her.
He leaned back in his chair and let his eyes wander over her bodice, where bare skin peeked through the lacing. “Look at me.”
She stared back at him with trembling lips, almost shaking with fury. He’d ruined it. All her beautiful dreams had crumbled. Her voice choked when she spoke. “I shouldn’t have come with you. Roger Dean offered me a nice pizza. I should have settled for that.”
His chin lifted. “Roger who?”
“Roger Dean,” she shot back, gratified that he looked irritated. “He’s a reporter for one of the other papers. A handsome and very nice man,” she added. “And he likes me just the way I am.”
So she did have other men. That touched something vulnerable inside him and hurt it. Unsmiling, he stared at her. “Did you turn down a date with him to come out with me?” he asked, as if he expected she did things like that often.
“I turned him down before you called,” she shot back. “Sorry to shatter your black image of me.”
He sighed deeply and paused long enough to give the waiter an order for steak and a baked potato.
“What do you want?” he asked Kate politely.
“I’ll have a shrimp cocktail and coffee,” she murmured.
“You need more than that,” Jacob said.
“That’s all I want, thank you.” She gave the waiter the menu with a wan smile, and Jacob noticed how worn she looked, how tired. He knew suddenly that it was a sense of excitement gone sour.
“I’ve spoiled the night for you, haven’t I?” he asked with sharp perception.
Her lips curved into a rueful smile. “I broke speed records getting ready,” she said. “Went through every dress I had in my wardrobe to find something nice enough to wear for you. I suppose I was a little excited, being asked out by you after all these years, when I thought I was more of a pest and irritation than someone you…wanted to date.” Her eyes glanced off the expression of frank surprise in his. “I should have remembered how you feel about me. It’s my own fault. Nobody held a gun on me.”
His heart did odd things inside his chest at that confession. He hadn’t thought she might want to be with him. At times he’d wondered if she might feel a little of the physical attraction for him that he felt for her. But Kate was mysterious. She was close-lipped and very private, in spite of her modern outlook.
“Maybe we could bury the hatchet for once,” he murmured, feeling this way for the first time in his life. The self-confidence he’d always had with women was lacking tonight. He felt something new with Kate, and everything in him was fighting it. She confused him, disturbed him. She had to be sophisticated, but why did she sound so damned honest? She’d sworn once that she’d never lied to him, and he’d had to fight not to believe her. He couldn’t believe her, because if he did… He stared at her, feeling something tingle inside him as her face colored. He couldn’t prevent a warm, quiet smile.
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