to tell the instant he’d come into the kitchen that he hadn’t had much sleep. And it wasn’t just because he hadn’t had a shave. His lean, carved features looked almost haggard, and she couldn’t help feeling guilty that her decision not to spend the rest of the night with him was the cause. She hadn’t had a lot of sleep herself for the same reason.
And when he’d struggled to put his sweater back on, after inadvertently donning it back to front, the sight of his broad tanned shoulders and heavenly chest had made her insides flip at the memory of how incredible it had felt to make love with him. Without a doubt she knew that the act of passion they’d shared had been not just irresistible but necessary too.
Not that Kit had needed reminding. Her body still ached and tingled from Hal’s ardent attentions and she longed to be able to share with him how he’d made her feel. She’d never felt particularly attractive or sensual, but he had helped her feel both of those things last night. Now she was torn between following her heart and her finely honed instinct for self-preservation, and therein lay the dilemma.
Not wanting to dwell on her own inner turmoil above seeing to Hal’s desire to get out of the apartment for a while, she had an idea. As he finished his breakfast at the table she said brightly, ‘I’ve thought of where we can go.’
‘Have you?’
Throwing down his napkin with a weary air, he didn’t sound remotely interested or impressed, and she could tell that a bit of downheartedness and despair had crept in. It made her all the more determined to lift his spirits and proceed with the plan she’d come up with.
‘Yes, I have. I just want to clear away the breakfast things and then we can go. I think we’re going to need our jackets and scarves because it looks quite cold and blustery out there this morning.’ She glanced out of the window at the overcast skies and at the windblown leaves that were occasionally flying past, plastering themselves to the panes of glass. ‘Would you like to read the newspaper while I stack the dishwasher? I found it on the mat this morning.’
‘I may as well.’
Clearly resigned, Hal didn’t let his returning glance linger for too long, Kit noticed—as if he’d resolved not to be quite so friendly. The mere thought cut her to the quick. The sooner they were out in the open the better. It would give them both a chance to clear their heads and it would be good to blow the cobwebs away—especially as neither of them had had much sleep last night.
The household tasks completed, Kit moved across the kitchen to where Hal still sat perusing the newspaper. Without asking his permission, she plucked it out of his hands.
‘Hey! What do you think you’re doing?’ His expression was furious.
‘You said you wanted to go out, remember? You can read the newspaper when we get back.’
Deftly folding the broadsheet, she dropped it down onto the table. Then, taking a firm hold of the wheelchair’s handles, she turned it forthrightly towards the door.
Still seething, Hal remarked sardonically, ‘I was in the middle of reading an interesting article about the number of people losing their jobs...particularly women. Apparently it’s a real problem.’
‘Is it really? I don’t expect it will be a problem for very long. Not with women’s ingenuity and resourcefulness at finding replacement situations. We’re very good at rising to a challenge and getting ourselves out of a tough spot...it comes from centuries of having to take care of not so ingenious and resourceful men!’
‘You should be a comedian. Anyone ever tell you that?’
Helplessly, Kit’s lips twitched in amusement. ‘No. They haven’t. But I’ll bear it in mind should I ever find myself without a job. I can turn my hand to most things if I have to.’
‘Hmm...’
His shoulders had stiffened. It definitely irked him whenever she got the better of him, she noticed.
‘Presumably we’re travelling to our destination by car?’ he asked, swiftly changing the subject.
‘No, we’re not. I’m going to push you in your chair.’
‘I don’t think so.’ He twisted round with a belligerent glare that might have intimidated her if she hadn’t known better. ‘If we’re not going in the car then I’ll take my crutches and walk,’ he declared.
‘Not today you won’t, sunshine.’
They were travelling down the spacious hallway with its gleaming parquet flooring, and when she reached the coatstand at the end Kit reached up for Hal’s chocolate-coloured suede jacket and briskly handed it to him.
‘I want you to get out into the fresh air, but we’re going too far for you to use crutches. By the way, have you got a scarf? I don’t want you getting cold.’
‘I’m warning you, Katherine with a K, if you persist in treating me like some dull-witted imbecile then I’ll call a cab to take me wherever I want to go and I won’t let you know when I’ll be back. Then you’ll be forced to stay here on your own and soberly contemplate at what point you pushed me too far!’
Kit had never seen a man look so adorable when he was angry, but Hal Treverne cornered the market in sheer adorability in her opinion—whatever his mood. However, right then she didn’t think he would appreciate her telling him so. The reason he was angry, she guessed, was because he couldn’t get around with the effortless ease he was accustomed to and it made him feel vulnerable.
She knew how frightening that was for anyone who strove to be in sole command of his destiny—especially when events didn’t always pan out as he wanted them to. Kit found it easy to empathise because she’d often felt that same sense of frightening vulnerability too. Especially when she’d lived at home with her mother and daily anticipated the rollercoaster existence they were living spinning even further out of control...
‘I don’t want to make you mad at me,’ she said.
Before she thought about the wisdom of her action she brought her hand down on the top of his head and lightly ruffled his hair. Just as she was about to draw away, Hal caught her by the wrist. Almost immediately his hold tightened.
‘Then don’t imagine that you’re the one in charge—because you’re not.’
Even as he warned her Kit saw that his golden eyes were no longer glinting with fury but with something else far more disturbing. Meeting his gaze, she felt as if she’d been steeped in a vat of warm honey.
‘One kiss,’ he murmured, the timbre of his voice lowering huskily. ‘One kiss and I’ll let you take me wherever you want to—even in this dratted wheelchair.’
She made a half-hearted attempt at freeing her wrist, but her arm had slackened weakly the moment Hal had taken it prisoner.
‘I told you—I can’t do that any more.’ Even to her own ears her answer sounded less than convincing.
His dark brows beetled in a mocking frown. ‘In my dictionary there’s no such word as “can’t”, sweetheart.’
‘I think you’ll find that there is. Maybe not in yours, but in most dictionaries the term is described as a contraction. Perhaps you need to update your volume?’
Even
