But Rick was much older than any of the other men she had dated, was surely past the stage in his life where he needed to boast about physical conquests in order to feel good. And she believed him when he said he hadn’t intended making love to her on the beach, knew that no matter how aroused he had been he had also been completely in control, that he had had no intention of making their lovemaking into something childish and illicit.
‘I won’t come to your room tonight,’ she murmured against the dampness of his coat. ‘I know that.’
‘And you aren’t coming to mine either!’
‘No. Keilly,’ he raised her face gently with his hand. ‘I told you, I’m coming back, And I meant it.’
Happiness glowed in the darkness of her eyes. ‘When?’
‘I’m not sure yet—I will be back, Keilly,’ he insisted as disappointment clouded her face. ‘Now that I’ve found you I’ll let no other man tame you but me!’ His arms tightened painfully. ‘All that wildness and fire is going to be for me,’ he ground out fiercely.
She didn’t know if she were relieved or disappointed when it at last stopped raining ten minutes later, relieved because they could at last go and get out of these wet clothes, disappointed because she didn’t want this time with Rick to end.
He seemed to share her reluctance, for all that they were both wet and cold their walk back to the hotel was slow, their arms wrapped about each other hindering their speed even more. And neither of them minded in the least, stopping outside the hotel to kiss once more.
‘I was going to organise a search-party,’ her uncle Bill sighed his relief as they entered the hotel, a small wiry man with sandy-grey hair and twinkling blue eyes. ‘You had better go upstairs and shower, Keilly, before you catch pneumonia.’
‘She doesn’t even catch cold,’ Rick murmured, his gaze still locked on her flushed cheeks.
‘That’s true,’ her uncle nodded. ‘By the way, there was a telephone call for you while you were out, Mr Richards.’
Keilly felt the way Rick suddenly stiffened with tension, looking up at him enquiringly.
‘For me?’ he frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
Her uncle smiled. ‘Well you are our only guest, and the lady was quite clear about the name. She left a message for you here somewhere,’ he looked through the papers on the desk. ‘"Call Barbie”,’ he read. ‘Urgent, she said it was,’ he frowned.
‘Thanks,’ Rick nodded abstractedly. ‘I’ll call her as soon as I’ve changed.’
Keily could still sense his tension as he held on tightly to her hand. ‘Anything wrong, Rick?’ she prompted softly.
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘Barbie—sometimes finds work for me,’ he explained abruptly. ‘We had both better do as your uncle suggested and take a shower.’
‘Separately, I hope,’ her Uncle Bill put in dryly.
Keilly’s indignant gasp was drowned out by the men’s shared laughter, and with a fierce glare at both of them she walked off to take her shower—alone! Really, she couldn’t imagine what had come over her uncle for him to make such a personal remark.
One look in the mirror once she reached her bedroom on the top floor showed her exactly why he had done it. Despite the wet slickness of her hair, slightly smudged make-up, and limp clothing, it was possible to see she had been thoroughly kissed, and by an expert too if the glow in her eyes was anything to go by.
‘Keilly?’ A knock sounded on the door to accompany the soft calling of her name. ‘Keilly, I have to talk to you.’
Rick! ‘I meant what I said earlier,’ she spoke to him through the thickness of the door.
‘I know, darling,’ he sounded amused. ‘But I have to return to London tonight, and I——’
‘Tonight?’ she had the door open before he could even finish what he was saying. ‘Tonight, Rick?’ she groaned her, disappointment, uncaring that she was revealing too much of her feelings; she had thought they had until tomorrow morning at least.
He was still as wet as she was, although his shorter hair was drying quicker than hers. ‘I decided to call Barbie right away, and—I have a job to do back in London,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve changed and packed.’
She couldn’t even manage a smile. ‘Barbie is—just a friend?’
He smiled gently, pulling her into his arms. ‘Just a friend—my little witch.’ He sobered suddenly. ‘I don’t want to go now, but I have to. You do believe I’ll come back?’
At the moment she wanted to believe anything he told her, nodding before she found her mouth claimed by his, kissing him back as if she never wanted him to stop.
They were both breathing hard by the time they pulled apart, Rick resting his forehead momentarily on hers before moving away from her completely. ‘I’d better go—or I won’t want to,’ he added ruefully. ‘I’ll call you, okay?’ He touched her cheek with gentle fingertips.
She swallowed hard. ‘Okay.’
With one last rakish grin he was gone, leaving Keilly wondering if she had imagined it all, if Rick Richards had just been a wonderful dream. But the tingle all over her body told her he couldn’t have been, and when she undressed the slight redness to her breasts where his beard had scraped her more tender skin more than convinced her that he had been real.
But would he really come back or had she just been an interlude to him? Worse still, would she find a story about herself emblazoned across some newspaper in the next few days, Rick Richards’ personal—very personal, interview with the woman who had scorned at Rod Bartlett?
Oh God, Rod Bartlett! She had forgotten about him the last couple of hours. There was a possibility—even if only a very remote one—that Rod Bartlett could come back here. How was Kathy going to react to that?
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