spread its heat to her trembling limbs. The last thing she needed right now was her brain to be befuddled by that sort of thing!
Well, I’d as soon be hung for a sheep as a lamb, and if he wants a scarlet woman, who am I to disappoint him? One thing she wasn’t going to be was a penitent sinner who could be redeemed by the marvellous Mr Matheson.
‘Lloyd’s not a child; he’s quite capable of making his own decisions. I think,’ she mused thoughtfully, ‘you’ll find he’s very grateful to me.’ And he’s got reason to be, she silently added.
‘Did his wife send you a thank-you card?’ He regarded her with fastidious distaste.
‘Not exactly.’ Hope winced at the memory of her last encounter with Lloyd’s famous wife. Dallas had brought along several busloads of the press to record her public humiliation. Apparently the publicity had done the sales of her latest album no harm at all, but Hope didn’t imagine she’d receive the credit for that. She chuckled softly at the idea.
‘Have you no shame at all?’ His face was dark with disgust. ‘You find it all a joke?’ he asked with incredulous disgust. ‘Are you really that self-centred and selfish?’
‘Which question shall I answer first?’ she puzzled, finger on the small cleft in her chin. ‘Or were they all rhetorical?’ How was I ever attracted to this man? she wondered. He’s narrow-minded and petty! The mocking smile slid from her face, leaving an expression of scornful contempt. ‘My conscience is quite clear, thank you, Alex,’ she said crisply.
The way his knuckles turned white strangely fascinated her. To look at his face you’d never guess he wants to strangle me, she thought. She was quite familiar with the urge to lash out, but she was confident that he was far too controlled to give in to the impulse to strangle her, or even the one to kiss her. This sudden startling insight made her eyes widen suddenly. The fact that he’d decided she wasn’t worthy of his notice didn’t stop him from lusting after her. And Alex Matheson was a man who prided himself on being in control of his emotions.
‘Do you like playing games with people?’ His icy glare impaled her.
‘A girl’s got to amuse herself.’ The nerve in his taut jaw did a triple backflip at that one.
‘Is that what you were doing with me?’ The flicker in his hooded eyes made Hope feel uneasy, but she wasn’t going to back pedal now.
She tilted her head, as if giving the idea serious consideration. It would be a small revenge for the insults Alex Matheson had heaped upon her.
‘Well I’ve got to do something for the next month, and I do find older men, with that air of authority, so attractive. I’m quite willing to sacrifice youthful stamina for…’ she gave a delicate laugh ‘…competence. I like experienced men,’ she confided, with her best come-hither smile. ‘But this isn’t Hollywood, is it?’ she murmured regretfully. ‘If you’d been married it wouldn’t really have been worth the hassle.’
To think he’d thought her untainted by the life she’d led. To think he’d been enchanted by her open warmth and transparent sincerity! The throbbing in his temples reached new heights. In a different frame of mind Alex would undoubtedly have paused to reflect on the contradictory nature of Hope’s responses. But Alex didn’t pause; he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. He glimpsed shock and dismay in her wide blue eyes before he kissed her.
The pressure of his mouth bent her body back until her head touched the springy moss-covered ground. His hands moved from her shoulders to frame her face, effectively immobilising it. Not that Hope had any thoughts of fighting; she had no thoughts at all. The only information that filtered into her brain concerned simple things, like smell, texture and taste. The smell of the leather gauntlet on his right hand, the wool of his sweater and the citrusy spice of the masculine fragrance he used. The texture of his firm mouth, the sensation as his tongue thrust into the recesses of her mouth and the taste of him… Now she knew. Now she’d never be able to forget it.
It stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. The weak sunlight that his head had blotted out filtered through the transparent thinness of her closed eyelids. She listened to the echo of her own heartbeat.
‘Say something,’ he said thickly. ‘At least look at me.’ If he hadn’t been able to see her chest rising and falling he wouldn’t have known she was alive. Her hair was spread around her face, a rich golden frame. The permanent indentation between his eyes deepened as he stared down at her.
A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. ‘How can I refuse an offer like that? Or was it an order? Don’t look so surprised, Alex. What did you expect? Hysteria? I’ve been kissed before…’ Not like that, never like that. Her nervous system had shut down, unable to accept the messages being fed it. ‘Admittedly with more finesse…’ To her surprise he perceptibly flinched. He flexed his massive shoulders and his glance slid momentarily from her face.
She was no weakling, but Alex hadn’t needed to use more than a fraction of the strength in that awesome upper body to immobilise her. And all the time she’d been aware of the staggering strength he held in check. She hadn’t just been aware of it—she’d been deeply excited by it. Alien emotions churned in her belly.
‘We’re quits,’ he observed flatly.
‘Given the choice, I’d have taken a slapped face.’ A dull red spread over the hard contours of his cheekbones and she felt a surge of satisfaction. ‘Though I’m sure you’re not the sort of man who’d strike a female.’ Her voice was laced with sarcasm.
‘I’m sorry I lacked finesse,’ he bit back.
Sprawling here, she felt rather vulnerable, but she didn’t want to risk moving until she had full control over her limbs again. ‘It was a bit naive of me to expect subtlety from someone like you. I don’t expect imagination is your strong point—’ With a yelp of alarm she closed her eyes. He moved with amazing fluidity for someone of his build.
When she risked opening one eye he was kneeling beside her. The muscles of her abdomen clenched in anticipation of sitting upright. They relaxed instantaneously as he ran the tip of one callused forefinger experimentally down the side of her cheek. Each microscopic downy hair on her smooth skin danced in response. A sound escaped her lips as the air fled from her lungs in one gasp.
‘I never did know when to stop,’ she croaked. ‘I’m sure you’re as subtle as hell.’
‘For an elderly male with limited reserves of stamina?’ he suggested silkily.
‘Can’t you take a joke?’ He was removing the thick padded gauntlet from his hand. A girl who got turned on by looking at a man’s hands was in serious trouble, she reflected wildly.
‘Creativity takes many shapes and forms.’ He lowered himself on one elbow and brushed the tangled curls from her brow. ‘I may be colour-blind…’
‘How fascinating,’ she replied in a high-pitched voice. ‘Colour-blind.’ He’d tugged the zip of her waterproof jacket far enough down to give his mouth access to the base of her throat. ‘This is silly.’
Her words emerged as a breathy gasp rather than a sharp reprimand. She dug her fingers into his rich pelt of hair in order to jerk his head away, but the warm lash of his tongue against the pulse-spot made her fingers curl against his scalp in a manner more intended to hold him against her than repel him.
The open-mouthed assaults on her neck tore a series of soft, guttural moans from Hope’s throat. Alex lowered his body as he moved higher, until by the time he was at eye level with her they lay thigh to thigh, chest to chest on the sloping ground.
‘It must be difficult for someone used to delicate refinement to be exposed to such crude clumsiness.’ The rasp of his voice was close to her ear. His lips grazed the same orifice and sent electrical tremors down to the tip of her curling toes.
Her blue eyes were swimming as she met his hard gaze; her stare was hazy and unfocused. This was torture; each soft, arousing salute was