a relaxed pose. ‘Then I’d love another drink.’
Kate never knew afterwards how much she had had to drink during the evening, or quite what they talked about, but suddenly it was after eleven and Jared was suggesting walking her back to her room. Only he didn’t want to leave her at the door, and it had nothing to do with the brandy that she invited him in.
The double bed that dominated the room added intimacy to the moment, and Jared seemed to become aware of it at the same time she did, their gazes locking and holding, the move into each other’s arms made simultaneously, their lips meeting in a quest for mutual need, for forgetfulness on Kate’s part.
She had known the moment he identified himself on the beach that the evening was going to end this way, knowing a need to feel wanted, to feel a woman, to know that it had nothing to do with her own attraction that had so suddenly changed Brian towards her.
What she hadn’t been prepared for had been her reaction to a man she only knew as Jared! Brian was the man she loved, but even he had only made her feel contented in her response to him, her real pleasure being in knowing she had pleased him. This man wasn’t prepared to settle for contentment, his lips and hands ravaging her body in a fiery quest, taking her higher than she had ever wanted to go before.
Jared didn’t rush a thing; each inch of her body was given his own brand of lovemaking, encouraging Kate to know each tautly muscled line of his body in return, their bodies finally melting together in such accord that she gasped at the pleasure of it, measuring the movements of her body to the smooth thrusts of Jared’s, clutching on to the dampness of his shoulders as she arched into him in gasping ecstasy.
Jared had been insatiable that night, and for two more days and another night too, and while in his arms Kate hadn’t been able to think of anything but him. She had let him take control of her life for the time she was with him, hadn’t wanted to think of the reason she had come to the hotel in the first place, or of the lonely weeks ahead of her when she returned to London. She hadn’t wanted to think of Brian either, or of the way he had hurt her. And she hadn’t; she had given herself completely to Jared for the time they were together.
But the time for her to leave had arrived all too quickly, and with it the fact that she was Katharine Collier, the twenty-four-year-old owner of an up-and-coming advertising agency, and certainly beyond a clandestine affair with a man who didn’t look as if he had ever worn a dinner suit in his life.
They had talked little during their time together, preferring to communicate with their bodies, and when Jared had asked to see her once he had returned to London she hadn’t known what to say. Jared had proved himself to be an intelligent man, with a lively sense of humour, and a sensitivity that often made her cry out for mercy—a mercy she neither desired or was ever granted. But he was far removed from her life in London, and the thought of seeing him again there wasn’t something she wanted.
That last day together they had lunched together in the dining-room, the staff politely ignoring the fact that they hadn’t been seen for two days and serving them quietly and efficiently. But Jared’s desire to see her when they returned to London made her wish that the meal was over and she were driving back to London.
‘I’ll be very busy for the next few weeks,’ she said awkwardly. ‘This holiday was unexpected, and I won’t have time for socialising when I get back.’
‘Who said anything about socialising?’ He gave her a wicked grin, the eyes that could caress at a glance glowing with humour as he held her hand across the table. ‘I like having you all to myself.’
She pulled her hand out from under his. ‘I won’t have time for that either,’ she made her tone casual. ‘I’m a working girl, remember?’
‘And I’m sure you’re excellent at it, darling.’ He had taken to using the endearment during their time together, and he did it so naturally, casually, that Kate couldn’t possibly object. ‘But I won’t be in London for several months yet myself; I have work of my own to do first.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You do?’
‘Yes,’ he laughed at her surprised expression. ‘I don’t spend all my time making love to beautiful ladies. I have to earn a living too.’
‘How?’ She was interested in spite of herself.
‘By my wits, mainly.’
His answer didn’t surprise her. Jared had spent the last two days with her without thought or excuse to anyone, and when they had bothered to dress it had been informally, always denims and a casual shirt for Jared, not even a trace of the formal about the man who had been her lover for the last two days. He was a drifter, a man who admitted to living on his wits; he didn’t fit in with her London lifestyle at all.
‘What do you intend doing that will keep you away from London?’ She pretended interest in a way of life that was totally alien to her.
He shrugged. ‘I’ll be in North America for the next few months. I have—Why don’t you come with me?’ he suggested with sudden excitement. ‘Why didn’t I think of it before? We don’t have to part now, we could—Yes?’ he looked up as a waiter appeared quietly beside their table.
‘For you, Mr Rourke.’ The man held out a tray with a message lying on its surface. He stood silently beside them waiting for a reply as Jared read the message.
Jared scanned the words with impatience. ‘Damn,’ he muttered before turning to face Kate. ‘I have to go and make a call—do you mind?’
‘Not at all,’ she smiled, very conscious of the still-hovering waiter.
‘We’ll talk about North America when I get back.’ He stood up to place a light kiss on her lips. ‘I don’t intend letting you escape me, Katharine Mary Collins.’
She had smiled tautly until he was out of the room, then she had sprung into action, hurriedly leaving the dining-room to pay her bill and collect her luggage, leaving the hotel before Jared realised she had gone, little dreaming that he would trace Kate Collins back to Kate Collier, never dreaming that he would want to.
What she had done, spending two days with a complete stranger, was out of character for her, an impetuous need for emotional reassurance after Brian had let her down so callously, but she doubted it was out of character for Jared. There was an experience about him that couldn’t be denied, a knowledge of women that had been infinitely satisfying but which spoke of relationships with many different women. At the thirty-four she knew him to be that wasn’t surprising, but she had known only one man before him, the man who had been the reason for her need to get away from London and all the well-meaning friends who would pity her to her face and laugh at her behind her back. What Brian had done, using her until someone more useful came along, was one of the oldest tricks in the book; and she had been so much in love she hadn’t even realised what he was doing.
But Jared Rourke wasn’t really her type, he had just been available when she needed him, and she didn’t want to see him again. Once he was ‘living on his wits’ in North America he would realise she wasn’t his type either.
She had really thought Jared would realise that, that she would never see him again. She certainly hadn’t expected him to turn up at her flat, and not tonight of all nights. He had almost ruined everything. He still could; she doubted she had seen the last of Jared Rourke—even if he had gone to see Gill!
She couldn’t believe he actually had the audacity to go through with that—could
