Dark Paradise. Sara Craven

room, silently thanking her stars as she did so that in spite of everything, she had still found the time that morning to make her bed and leave the room tidy. She walked over to the worktop and flicked the switch with operated the percolater. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Matt Lincoln looking round appraisingly, lowering the zip on his casual jacket, and her heart sank.

      ‘Perhaps you’d like to help yourself when it’s ready,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I really do have to get on and …’

      ‘Not yet.’ His tone was cool but utterly implacable, and he was between her and the door. ‘As I said, we have some talking to do.’ He pulled a chair across and sat down, straddling it, his folded arms resting on its back, grinning sardonically at her expression of dismay.

      ‘Very well,’ she said, pretending a calmness she certainly didn’t feel. She didn’t like the way he was watching her as she moved about putting milk in a jug, taking two pottery mugs out of her china cupboard. The faded yellow sweatshirt wasn’t particularly revealing, but her jeans clung to her hips and thighs like a second skin, a fact which he was frankly and openly appreciating. Kate gritted her teeth.

      The coffee was percolating, sending a beguiling aroma through the room. She wanted to relax—after all, this was her home—but she couldn’t, not with him there. His presence was like an irritant. He seemed to charge up the atmosphere, destroying the workmanlike but peaceful ambience she had been at pains to create for herself.

      She poured the coffee into the mugs and handed him one, her face stony. He took it with a brief word of thanks, declining milk and sugar. Kate leaned against the worktop, sipping her own drink, feeling its warmth comfort her and give her heart, while she waited for him to speak.

      He said softly at last, ‘I was deeply moved by your eloquence last night.’

      ‘Oh?’ Her expression was suspicious, her tone antagonistic, and he laughed.

      ‘You don’t believe me? But you underestimate your own powers of persuasion, darling. If you think it would be such a disaster for Alison to go to the Caribbean with me, then I shall not take her. It’s as simple as that.’

      Kate put her mug slowly down on the worktop. ‘I don’t think I understand.’

      ‘I’m a reformed character. Your impassioned plea has made me see the light. My home-wrecking days are behind me.’

      Kate’s lips tightened. ‘This is clearly some kind of weird joke, and I don’t find it very amusing.’

      ‘I’ve never been more serious.’ The blue eyes glittered oddly as they surveyed her. ‘I am not taking Alison to the Caribbean. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’

      ‘Why—yes.’ She was taken aback, and growing more and more uneasy.

      ‘Then you have your wish.’ He paused, then said smoothly, ‘There is, of course, one minor condition.’

      ‘Oh?’ Kate swallowed. ‘What is it?”

      He smiled, his eyes appraising her body again with unconcealed sensuousness. He said gently, ‘On condition that you come with me instead.’