His Scandalous Mistress: The Master's Mistress / Count Toussaint's Pregnant Mistress / Castellano's Mistress of Revenge. Кейт Хьюит
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had found herself looking at his hands more often than she would have wished as she remembered the touch of them on the nakedness of her body earlier that day. When she had been fully aware of the spicy seduction of the combination of his aftershave and the male smell that was all Rogan.
What was it about this man in particular that made her so totally aware of him? From that silky dark hair down to his leather-shod feet?
If Elizabeth knew the answer to that question then she might have some way of fighting against it. As it was, she just had to accept that she was totally aware of him. Achingly so.
Just as she was suddenly aware that she hadn’t even bothered to brush her hair before dinner. ‘I feel a mess.’ She raised a self-conscious hand to the spiky disarray of her hair.
Rogan turned his head on the cushion to look at her. ‘If you’re fishing for compliments… ’
‘I’m not,’ Elizabeth assured him hastily.
‘… then you chose the wrong man,’ Rogan finished dryly.
Her cheeks felt warm with embarrassment. ‘I was stating a fact, not looking for compliments.’
Rogan gave an appreciative grin. ‘Nevertheless, Elizabeth, you look good whatever you choose to wear. Or not wear… ’ he added pointedly.
‘I—’ She shook her head. ‘You’re referring to what happened this morning?’
He gave a lazy shrug. ‘I believe it’s the only time I’ve seen you naked.’
Elizabeth gave him an exasperated glare even as the colour warmed her cheeks. ‘And I believe I said I would prefer it if we never talked about this morning!’she snapped waspishly.
Rogan’s lids narrowed. ‘Just forget it ever happened, you mean?’
‘Yes!’ Her agitation was increasing by the second.
He gave a slow smile. ‘What if I can’t forget it, Elizabeth?’
‘Try!’
He chuckled softly, enjoying her obvious discomfort. Why shouldn’t he, when those same memories made him uncomfortable too—though in a completely different way!
Rogan really had tried forgetting Elizabeth’s nakedness this morning. The way she had caught fire in his arms as he kissed and caressed her. How much he had enjoyed watching her face as she climaxed under the ministration of his lips and tongue. He’d only had to look at her again this evening, to be alone with her, to know he hadn’t succeeded in forgetting anything about her. As the hard throb of his thighs now testified!
He shifted slightly on the sofa, so the muscled length of his thigh rested against her much softer one. ‘As I suggested this morning, there’s no reason why we can’t explore this attraction between us further, and see where it takes us… ’
Elizabeth scooted to the far side of the sofa. ‘Explore it on your own and leave me out of it!’
Rogan gave a slow shake of his head and his gaze easily held hers captive. ‘I’d much rather explore it with you,’ he murmured throatily.
Elizabeth couldn’t think straight, couldn’t move when Rogan was this close to her. ‘I—We both know this morning was a mistake.’
‘Do we?’
‘Of course it was a mistake,’ she said. ‘You have a woman back in America, waiting for you to call her!’
He raised dark brows. ‘I do?’
She nodded. ‘According to your associate Grant, yes.’
Those dark eyes narrowed as he obviously recalled the telephone conversation she was referring to. ‘You really don’t forget anything, do you?’
‘Nothing of importance, no,’ she assured him firmly. ‘Besides, you and I have nothing in common.’
He relaxed slightly. ‘Admittedly I don’t read sexy vampire novels… ’
‘Will you just forget about those damned vampire novels?’ She glared at him crossly.
‘Difficult,’ Rogan murmured, those dark eyes warmly seductive now. ‘Aren’t you tempted to practise some of the things you’ve read about?’
Her cheeks felt even warmer. ‘No, I am not! They’re only fantasy, Rogan,’ she added. ‘Not real life.’
‘How do you know that if you’ve never experimented? For instance, I think we might both find it highly erotic if, while I was making love to you, I were to bite you on the neck.’
‘Will you just stop this!’ she burst out agitatedly. ‘You simply aren’t my type.’
‘You seemed to think I might be this morning,’ he reminded her mockingly.
‘You took me by surprise this morning.’
‘If my memory serves me correctly, I didn’t take you at all… ’
Her mouth firmed. ‘You’re just bored, Rogan, and looking for a diversion. Any diversion.’
‘You think?’
‘I know!’
‘Never heard of opposites attracting?’ he taunted.
‘Not in this case, no.’ She shook her head. ‘We’re just too different for this attraction to be real, Rogan. Your life appears to be complicated, in so many ways. Whereas I like stability and certainty in my own life.’
‘Stability and certainty can be a little boring, don’t you think?’ he asked, his gaze continuing to hold hers even as he reached across to pick up her hand and lace the long length of his fingers with her much smaller ones.
Elizabeth felt the jolt of that physical connection as heat surged up the length of her arm and into her breasts, causing them to swell achingly and the nipples to harden and throb in awareness.
Worse, she couldn’t look away from their interlaced fingers, her own appearing very white and delicate against Rogan’s much darker skin. She swallowed hard, before moistening suddenly dry lips. ‘I like my life the way it is.’
‘Do you?’ Rogan was much closer now, his breath brushing warmly against her slightly parted lips. ‘Do you really, Elizabeth?’
She liked this man! The way he looked. The way he felt. The way he touched her. The way she felt when he looked at her with those dark, seductive eyes.
It was all too easy at times like these to forget that he had that woman waiting for him in America…
Rogan easily read the panic in Elizabeth’s widely uncertain gaze, knowing he should stop this now. Knowing, after those alarm bells had rung inside him this morning after making love with her, warning him that Elizabeth Brown could be a danger to his chosen life of solitude as well as his peace of mind, that he should never have started this teasing conversation in the first place.
The two of them were both products of what sounded to Rogan to be similar childhoods—a loving mother who had died before her time, and a father who didn’t give a damn about his wife or his child. Elizabeth had chosen to deal with the pain of that childhood by channelling her emotions into the safety of teaching History, whereas Rogan had just as deliberately chosen a life that presented constant challenge and change.
He didn’t want, had never wanted, any permanence in his own life. He certainly didn’t want a permanent woman—least of all a woman like this one!
Rogan released her fingers as he sat back abruptly. ‘You’re right, Elizabeth, you aren’t my type either,’ he said quietly, and stood up. ‘We have the funeral tomorrow to get through.’ He grimaced just at the thought of it. ‘So I’ll wish you goodnight,’ he added distractedly, before striding purposefully from the room.
‘Goodnight, Rogan… ’ Elizabeth murmured softly into the