Sensual Encounter. Кэрол Мортимер

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘… and this new account could be really important to the agency,’ Kate was telling Richard as she came through from the kitchen with the ice for their drinks, her long flaming red hair secured in a classical style at her nape. ‘Whisky?’ she queried in a preoccupied voice.

      ‘And a little ice only,’ the man seated on the luxurious sofa requested, his fine dinner suit obviously from Savile Row, the cufflinks at his wrist gold, his shoes handmade. Richard James was a rich man, and he looked it, from his styled dark hair to his Italian shoes.

      And Kate liked rich men, rich and powerful men. She more than liked Richard, she intended marrying him. Fortunately, it looked as if he felt the same way.

      ‘Thank you, darling.’ He looked up at her with dark eyes, admiring everything about the beautiful woman who was to be his wife, preferring the elegance of her severe hairstyle to a softer styling, the bright red hair dulled to copper, her eyes a wide almond shape, golden in colour, slightly tilted at the corners, her cheekbones high, emphasised by a light blusher, her nose short and straight, the wide bow of her mouth outlined in a deep plum lip-gloss, the black dress she wore as sophisticated as the other clothes she bought from one of his exclusive shops in town. He must remember to open an account for her as soon as possible—beside the fact that he intended marrying her, no one who could do such justice to the dresses deserved to pay for them! Kate was everything he could possibly want in a wife. ‘I have a table booked for eight—Are you expecting anyone?’ he frowned as the doorbell pealed in Kate’s apartment.

      ‘No.’ She put her glass down, her hand long and elegant, the nails painted the same plum colour as her lipgloss. ‘Perhaps it’s Gill from downstairs, she’s always running out of things for some reason,’ the last was added with irritation, her own methodical way of life not allowing for such occurrences. Head of an advertising agency, she had to live her life that way, both privately and professionally, clients and employees depending on her.

      ‘Don’t let her keep you long,’ Richard’s hand trailed intimately down her arm. ‘We have to leave for the restaurant in a few minutes.’

      Kate’s expression was thoughtful as she went to the door. If it were Gill she hoped she was returning the set of vegetable dishes she had borrowed for a special dinner last month; she could be needing them herself soon!

      She had no premonition as she opened the door, no warning of the shock she was to receive when she saw the identity of her visitor. Her mouth fell open in surprise, her face paling, the golden eyes suddenly huge in her drawn face.

      At that moment she wished she could deny all knowledge of the man standing outside the door, but the lean body in the casual denims and short leather jacket, the ruggedly attractive face dominated by laughing blue eyes, the overlong dark hair with its auburn highlights were all too familiar. Jared Rourke!

      ‘Hello, Kate,’ he greeted softly, in a well-educated voice, although it did not indicate public school like Richard’s did.

      She wished she could have answered him, but for the moment she seemed to have lost her voice—something that had never happened to her before. What was he doing here? More to the point, what was she going to do with him when Richard was waiting for her in the lounge?

      Jared felt no such inhibitions about his own actions, and stepped forward, taller than her by at least six inches at six foot two, his arms like steel vices as he took her in his arms, his mouth claiming hers with arrogant possession.

      Kate felt herself respond to him as she had from their first meeting, having no strength to fight him as his mouth moved over hers with drugging insistence, laying intimate claim to her lips, while his hands moved over her body with sure deliberation.

      ‘Mm,’ he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead on hers as he looked down at her, a growth of copper-coloured beard on his chin evidence of his need of a shave. ‘I needed that,’ he spoke softly, his voice husky. ‘I was sure I must have imagined how good it was with you, but now I know I didn’t!’

      ‘Jared—–’