Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant. Sarah Morgan
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robe, which lay discarded on the floor, and draped it over the back of a chair.
Anything to avoid that penetrating gaze. He saw too much.
‘I tripped—it was just one of those things.’
There was a long silence. ‘You tripped?’
She licked her lips, hearing the surprise and disbelief in his tone. ‘That’s right. And now can we change the subject?’ She looked at him and managed something resembling a smile. ‘As you’re always saying, it’s history now and I certainly don’t blame you for the baby.’
His powerful body radiated tension. ‘But you blame me for everything else.’
‘You should have trusted me, Jago,’ she said simply. ‘I was completely in love with you and a man as experienced as you should have seen that I couldn’t see straight enough to focus on another man.’
A muscle moved in his cheek and she watched him dealing with the unfamiliar experience of being in the wrong.
For a man with his pride she knew it would be hard and she certainly wasn’t expecting an apology. Jago had probably never apologised for anything in his life.
‘You have to admit I had reason—’
‘You ignored what you knew about me and judged me on the evidence of someone who had every reason to destroy our relationship,’ she said quietly, holding onto the fact that he’d behaved with such totally predictable male arrogance. Only by remembering that would she be able to keep him at a distance. ‘I still can’t quite believe you did that. And now you have to go, Jago. Freddie will be here any minute.’
‘Call him and cancel.’
He moved towards her with deliberate intent and she found herself backing against the wall of the bedroom.
‘He’s booked a table.’
‘Cancel.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth and she felt her heart rate increase with startling rapidity. ‘You’re not going to marry him, Katy.’
The atmosphere in the room was suddenly charged with tension and she felt frighteningly out of control.
‘I am, I’m—’
‘Call him and end it. We both know you’re not in love with him. So why are you marrying him?’ Because she didn’t want love.
Jago stepped closer still and she felt sensation knife through her pelvis. She was breathlessly aware of him, of the blue-black stubble on his jaw, of the slumberous dark eyes probing hers with relentless intent, of his wide shoulders blocking her escape.
‘You’re dating a Brazilian model,’ she reminded him desperately, and he gave a groan of denial.
‘Not any more.’
Trapped by his ferocious masculinity, she felt the tension in the room rise to an almost unbearable degree.
‘End it,’ he instructed softly, his eyes dropping to her parted lips and clouding hungrily, ‘or stop looking at me like that.’
She couldn’t get the air into her lungs. ‘I’m not looking at you—’
‘Yes, you are.’
Without warning he took her mouth in a kiss so explicit in its intent that her senses went into freefall. With a rough exclamation he hauled her against his powerful body, the sensual onslaught of his kiss creating an excitement so wild that she couldn’t help but respond. Fevered by his touch, she kissed him back, locking her arms around his strong neck, feeling the heat of his body pressing through the thin fabric of her dress.
His breathing fractured, he lifted a hand and tugged roughly at her hair, discarding the clips impatiently until it tumbled in a silken mass over his arm and down her back.
With a groan of satisfaction he sank both hands into the soft waves that he’d released, anchoring her head against the relentless onslaught of his skilled mouth.
‘I love your hair.’ He muttered the words against her mouth, moving his lips over hers, exploring suggestively with his tongue until she went up in flames.
How could she have forgotten what it felt like to kiss Jago?
Instead of pulling away, she pressed herself closer to him, quivering with response as he kissed her senseless.
Her body softened under the hard possession of his mouth, her insides melting as his tongue probed and teased in an erotic reminder of more intimate moments.
‘Jago, please …’ She was out of her mind with excitement, her whole body consumed by a wild hunger that was totally outside her control.
She needed him so badly.
It had been so long.
The hot demands of his mouth intensified and she started to shiver, held in the grip of an electrifying force so powerful that that she thought she might explode.
She felt frantic.
Desperate.
When Jago finally dragged his mouth away from hers, she staggered slightly, grateful that his fingers were gripping her arms so tightly. If they hadn’t been, she would undoubtedly have fallen.
Aghast and embarrassed by the uninhibited way she’d responded to him, she freed herself from his grip and backed away, deriving some small satisfaction from the fact that Jago looked as stunned as she felt.
Maybe he wasn’t quite as cool and in control as he liked to pretend.
He sucked in his breath and took a step backwards, reaching out to steady himself as he almost tripped over the chair.
His dark eyes burned into hers. ‘You definitely need to call Freddie.’
With that parting shot he turned and strode out of the room, leaving her staring after him in trembling disbelief, feeling intensely vulnerable.
What had she done?
She’d kissed Jago.
And that hadn’t been any old kiss. That kiss had been as close to sex as it was possible to get without removing clothing.
She groaned in mortification. Knowing Jago, he wasn’t going to let her forget it. He was self-confident and arrogant enough to have taken that response as a green light. From now on he’d be pursuing her with all the subtlety of a herd bull.
Shocked and confused, she sat on the edge of the bed until the sound of the doorbell disturbed her.
It would be Freddie. What was she going to do?
She stared at the closed door with something close to desperation.
She was engaged to Freddie but she’d kissed Jago. And kissing Jago had exposed her to a level of excitement that she’d denied herself for eleven years. Intense, toe-curling excitement that could so easily become addictive.
Lifting a hand, she touched her lips, still able to feel a slight tingling where he’d plundered her mouth with his.
No one but no one kissed like Jago. Jago had cornered the market in sexual excitement.
Hearing Freddie’s voice in the hallway, she closed her eyes, knowing that she needed to make a decision.
Fingers shaking, she stood up just as Freddie tapped on the door and walked in. He stopped in surprise, visibly taken aback by her appearance.
‘Goodness, Katherine, what have you done to your hair?’ His frown was faintly disapproving. ‘The Fletcher-Gibbs are quite formal usually and this evening is very much a business dinner. There’ll be clients there. You might want to wear it up.’
Katy blinked, suddenly realising that she’d forgotten to redo her hair after Jago had strode like the conquering male out of her bedroom, having kissed her to the point of total surrender.