hardly be blaming you if I was, would I?’ she responded, choosing a flattish piece of ground to sit upon, not too close to him. She felt the slight welt where the bird’s claws had grazed her face. She took out a tissue and spat on it. ‘Didn’t I read somewhere that saliva’s antiseptic?’ she wondered out loud. She dabbed the material to her face, blotting the small droplets of blood.
‘She thought you were attacking me. She’s very sensitive.’
And I’m a block of wood! God, he’s priceless! ‘I was, and no matter what anyone tells you my temper has been wildly exaggerated.’ She couldn’t help the hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. The family joke about her left hook had worn pretty thin years ago, and she’d worked really hard to control her more instinctual responses. It wasn’t as if she liked losing her temper; it made her sick—physically sick afterwards. She was still shaking with reaction.
‘Under the circumstances I’m not going to disagree with you. I’d like to keep my other cheek intact.’
‘I’ve never hit anyone smaller than me.’
‘That must certainly reduce your field.’
‘That’s a cheap crack. I thought you had more class.’
‘And you’d know all about class, I suppose?’ He moved closer in time to see the flash of anger in her eyes. The absence of colour in her cheeks emphasised the brilliance of their blue. If he’d wanted to he could have counted the number of freckles that were scattered over the bridge of her nose. Make-up on a face like hers really would be a case of gilding the lily. ‘And if you’re thinking of taking another swing at me, I warn you I’m not into meek acceptance.’
That makes two of us, she thought, narrowing her eyes and lifting her chin. ‘I’m sorry I hit you.’ The words emerged with the utmost reluctance. ‘But you deserved it!’ She couldn’t prevent the heartfelt postscript. She was proud of the fact she’d tamed her temper, and she didn’t like being reminded that at times she could still lose control. ‘I haven’t hit anyone in…’
‘Hours?’
This ironic suggestion made her teeth gouge painful inroads into her full lower lip. ‘Years,’ she responded with icy dignity. She could still recall the occasion when the stupidity of losing her cool had been brought home to her pretty sharply.
When she and her sisters had come across those yobs threatening to drop the puppy off the bridge into the river, their taunts had made her see red. While she’d been giving the ringleader a bloody nose Anna had been jumping off the bridge into a raging torrent after the puppy and Lindy had been racing downstream to rescue them both. She supposed the incident, which could so easily have ended in tragedy, said quite a lot about their different personalities.
‘At least you’re ashamed of your latest escapade.’
‘Hitting you?’ ‘Ashamed’ was pitching a bit strong.
‘Breaking up a marriage.’
‘Oh, that,’ she said airily. She flicked him a sideways glance—yes, he looked as if he had a particularly unpleasant taste in his mouth. Thinking about his stern mouth made her stomach lurch. It was hard to forget she’d wondered what his lips would feel like, how he’d taste… She willed the flood of warmth that began low in her belly not to spread its heat to her trembling limbs. The last thing she needed right now was her brain to be befuddled by that sort of thing!
Well, I’d as soon be hung for a sheep as a lamb, and if he wants a scarlet woman, who am I to disappoint him? One thing she wasn’t going to be was a penitent sinner who could be redeemed by the marvellous Mr Matheson.
‘Lloyd’s not a child; he’s quite capable of making his own decisions. I think,’ she mused thoughtfully, ‘you’ll find he’s very grateful to me.’ And he’s got reason to be, she silently added.
‘Did his wife send you a thank-you card?’ He regarded her with fastidious distaste.
‘Not exactly.’ Hope winced at the memory of her last encounter with Lloyd’s famous wife. Dallas had brought along several busloads of the press to record her public humiliation. Apparently the publicity had done the sales of her latest album no harm at all, but Hope didn’t imagine she’d receive the credit for that. She chuckled softly at the idea.
‘Have you no shame at all?’ His face was dark with disgust. ‘You find it all a joke?’ he asked with incredulous disgust. ‘Are you really that self-centred and selfish?’
‘Which question shall I answer first?’ she puzzled, finger on the small cleft in her chin. ‘Or were they all rhetorical?’ How was I ever attracted to this man? she wondered. He’s narrow-minded and petty! The mocking smile slid from her face, leaving an expression of scornful contempt. ‘My conscience is quite clear, thank you, Alex,’ she said crisply.
The way his knuckles turned white strangely fascinated her. To look at his face you’d never guess he wants to strangle me, she thought. She was quite familiar with the urge to lash out, but she was confident that he was far too controlled to give in to the impulse to strangle her, or even the one to kiss her. This sudden startling insight made her eyes widen suddenly. The fact that he’d decided she wasn’t worthy of his notice didn’t stop him from lusting after her. And Alex Matheson was a man who prided himself on being in control of his emotions.
‘Do you like playing games with people?’ His icy glare impaled her.
‘A girl’s got to amuse herself.’ The nerve in his taut jaw did a triple backflip at that one.
‘Is that what you were doing with me?’ The flicker in his hooded eyes made Hope feel uneasy, but she wasn’t going to back pedal now.
She tilted her head, as if giving the idea serious consideration. It would be a small revenge for the insults Alex Matheson had heaped upon her.
‘Well I’ve got to do something for the next month, and I do find older men, with that air of authority, so attractive. I’m quite willing to sacrifice youthful stamina for…’ she gave a delicate laugh ‘…competence. I like experienced men,’ she confided, with her best come-hither smile. ‘But this isn’t Hollywood, is it?’ she murmured regretfully. ‘If you’d been married it wouldn’t really have been worth the hassle.’
To think he’d thought her untainted by the life she’d led. To think he’d been enchanted by her open warmth and transparent sincerity! The throbbing in his temples reached new heights. In a different frame of mind Alex would undoubtedly have paused to reflect on the contradictory nature of Hope’s responses. But Alex didn’t pause; he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. He glimpsed shock and dismay in her wide blue eyes before he kissed her.
The pressure of his mouth bent her body back until her head touched the springy moss-covered ground. His hands moved from her shoulders to frame her face, effectively immobilising it. Not that Hope had any thoughts of fighting; she had no thoughts at all. The only information that filtered into her brain concerned simple things, like smell, texture and taste. The smell of the leather gauntlet on his right hand, the wool of his sweater and the citrusy spice of the masculine fragrance he used. The texture of his firm mouth, the sensation as his tongue thrust into the recesses of her mouth and the taste of him… Now she knew. Now she’d never be able to forget it.
It stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. The weak sunlight that his head had blotted out filtered through
