Holiday with a Stranger. Christy McKellen

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looking at him.

      ‘Okay. Fine. But the bed’s mine.’

      He held his hands up. ‘You women and your passion for beds.’

      ‘Clinophilia.’

      ‘I’m sorry?’

      ‘Having a passion for beds is clinophilia.’

      He gave her a stunned smile. ‘You just pulled that out of the air?’

      She shrugged. ‘It’s general knowledge.’

      He snorted. ‘Is it?’ He raised a seductive eyebrow. ‘Well, far be it from me to kick a lady out of my bed.’

      She shook her head in wonder at his gall. ‘You can’t resist a double entendre, can you, Connor?’

      ‘I can’t help myself when I’m around you, Josie.’

      She was so breathless she had to concentrate hard on sucking air into her constricted lungs. The combination of flirty talk and the proximity of his to-die-for body was having a devastating effect on her.

      ‘It’s nearly time to eat,’ he said quietly, a mirthful smile in his eyes.

      He knew. He knew all too well.

      She realised she was gawping at him and dragged her gaze away.

      ‘Smells great,’ she muttered.

      When she glanced back at him the look on his face made her insides flip over. Breaking eye contact, he turned back to the stove and added some herbs to the pan. She felt the loss of his attention keenly, as if the sun had slipped behind a cloud.

      Drumming her fingers against her legs, she looked around the kitchen for something to do, her nerves jumping.

      ‘Do you need any help? With supper?’

      He looked back and gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I think it’s probably better if I take care of it.’ He gestured towards the work surface. ‘No microwave,’ he said by way of explanation.

      Her hackles rose. ‘Just because I don’t cook at home, it doesn’t mean I can’t be useful in the kitchen.’

      He just smiled, not rising to her cross tone. ‘I’ve got this covered—but, thanks.’

      She shifted from foot to foot before leaning awkwardly against the chair-back. She was reluctant to be on her own again after spending all day bored out of her brain.

      He watched her in bemusement. ‘If you want something to read there are yesterday’s newspapers in the snug.’

      He wasn’t making it easy for her to stay and watch him.

      ‘Okay, then.’ She swung her finger to point behind her. ‘I’ll get out of your hair for a bit.’

      ‘Okay.’ He waved his hand, as if dismissing her, turning back to the stove without another word.

      * * *

      Supper was a sumptuously tender boeuf bourguignon with buttery new potatoes and crispy green beans. Josie wolfed it down with barely a pause. Neither of them spoke during the meal except to exchange pleasantries, which suited her fine.

      She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous around him. She’d faced CEOs of multi-million-pound corporations and been less jittery than this. He had some kind of strange effect on her, and she found it distressing. She should be able to handle this, no problem, but just his presence next to her set her mind into a spin. Every movement he made sent vibrations along her nerves. His gestures were precise, but elegant, and she thought she could probably watch him for hours and not grow bored.

      ‘That was delicious, thanks,’ she said, leaning back in her chair.

      ‘You’re welcome. Woman should not live on cornflakes alone,’ he said, giving her a look of reproach.

      She grinned sheepishly, then tapped her hands gently on the table, beating out a rhythm.

      Connor continued to watch her as she battled with the unwelcome warmth spreading through her under his intense gaze.

      The silence between them lengthened.

      ‘So, how do you usually spend your evenings?’ she asked, trying to break the atmosphere.

      Connor’s brow furrowed as he gave it some thought. ‘Game of chess?’

      ‘Chess, huh? Okay. I’ve not played in a while, but what the hell?’

      ‘I warn you, I take no prisoners.’ He wagged a finger at her.

      ‘Thanks for the warning,’ she said, going into the snug and grabbing the chessboard.

      Neither did she.

      * * *

      ‘Ah, the Corporate Opening,’ Connor joked as Josie moved her first piece.

      ‘Always works for me,’ she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

      Connor didn’t hesitate before moving his first piece.

      ‘Hmm, the Nomad Defence. Daring,’ Josie said, an eyebrow raised in jest.

      ‘They don’t call me Crazy-eyed Connor for nothing.’

      ‘Do they really?’

      ‘Actually, no.’ He pretended to look sad.

      ‘So, how else do you entertain yourself when you’re travelling?’ She tapped her fingers against her leg whilst studying the board for her next move. She was determined to win this game.

      ‘When I get the chance I go mountaineering—sometimes ice climbing.’

      Josie raised both eyebrows this time. ‘Action man, huh?’

      ‘Got to get my kicks somehow.’

      ‘Right.’ She moved another piece, holding on to it for a few seconds before releasing it.

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