The Chatsfield: Series 2. Кейт Хьюит
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has to have a sense of self-preservation. The world is a scary place. Men can kidnap you from alleys.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ve heard stories.”
He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Very terrifying. Are you about ready to go?”
She looked around the room. “I think I have everything all packed.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Quite. The bed was very comfortable. Did you?”
With the stiffness in his joints lingering, and the cold still wrapped around his bones, the idea of a good night’s sleep seemed laughable. “Not as such.”
“Where did you sleep?”
“I found a comfortable dune.”
He did not know why he was being honest with her. He should’ve told her that he had found a woman who’d been willing to share her sleeping bag. But then, that would imply that he had betrayed Christine, and he did not want her thinking that. Because she might tell someone. And because he did not want her to think he would do such a thing.
The first bit of reasoning was understandable, the second was somewhat beyond him, but it was true nonetheless.
“Please don’t tell me you slept outside.”
“Okay, then I won’t.”
“But you’re lying, aren’t you?” Her green eyes were wide now, the concern in them causing a strange warm feeling to spread outward from the center of his chest.
“Do not waste your tender feelings and large eyes on me. It was nothing I’ve never done before.”
“Well, now I feel bad. Because I made a big deal out of a sharing a tent together and then you went and slept outside.”
“You had a right to your privacy.”
She huffed. “Yes, of course I have a right to my privacy. But you were going to sleep on the couch. And as you said, you are no danger to me. I do know that.”
The warmth from a moment ago caught fire, and turned into something else. Turned into annoyance, and anger. “I would never hurt you, Sophie, on that you can trust me. But I might do something I should not. Something both of us would regret in the end.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. If you wouldn’t hurt me what could you possibly do that we would both regret?”
The flames climbed higher, and he advanced on her. He was beyond thought now, the only thing he could think of was warmth. The warmth she made him feel, that was banishing the cold that had been there only a moment before. And just how much warmer he knew she could make him feel if he but touched her. “Do you not understand?”
“No. I guess I don’t.”
He reached out and grabbed her arm, tugging her forward. He regretted it the moment he did it, but not enough to release her. “I would not hurt you, little Sophie, I would never do that. No, what I am tempted to do is something that would bring us both pleasure. But in the end I fear it would be something that could cause incredible damage.”
Her eyes widened, her pupils expanding in her green eyes, erasing the color. Her lips rounded into a perfect O, and he wondered if they would feel as soft as they looked beneath his own. He wondered what it would feel like to press her curves up against his body, to run his hands down the elegant line of her spine and grip the curve of her bottom. But those were questions that would go unanswered. Because he was determined to turn away from this. Any moment, he would turn away from this.
It didn’t matter that his blood was streaking through his veins like fire, it didn’t matter that he was so hard he could barely think straight, it didn’t matter that he wanted to taste her more than he wanted his next breath. Because it was something that could simply not happen. Because control was more important than this. Because duty was more important than anything.
Because of Christine. Because of Leila.
Because of Jasmine.
Three women who were all more important than the one who was standing in front of him, and yet, he could not bring himself to let her go.
Which is why you have to. This is insanity.
He released his hold on her and took a step backward, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
She pushed shaking hands through her hair, and guilt tore at him like a savage beast. “Oh, I guess I get what you meant now.”
“There is no need for us to speak of this again.”
“But...I mean... You can’t just pretend this didn’t happen.”
“We will. We will both pretend that it didn’t happen. Pretend I never said anything.” He turned away from her, keeping his eyes on the bland brown walls of the tent. “Now you know why I had to leave.”
“Because I tempt you?” The way she said it, with such innocence, with such wonder, only served to heighten the arousal that was already coursing through him.
“More than anything,” he said, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable even to his own ears.
“How is that possible? How can I possibly tempt you to do...anything?”
“You say that as though you have no idea of your appeal.”
“I don’t. I mean, you’re not the first man to ever hit on me, but I don’t think I can recall a man ever wanting me when he shouldn’t.”
He turned back to her. “There is a first time for everything, is there not?”
“I...I suppose so.”
He knew that he shouldn’t ask her the next question. Knew he should say nothing. And yet, the words burned in his mouth like hot coals. He had to spit them out, or swallow them whole, and leave them to burn him from the inside out. “Do I not tempt you?”
Her head jerked up sharply, her mouth falling open. “Do you tempt me?”
“I will not repeat myself.”
“I would have to be the most foolish woman in the world, or a very classic sufferer of Stockholm syndrome, to be tempted by you.”
“And yet, that does not answer the question.”
She turned away from him, her shoulders rising and falling sharply with her breath. “Do you know, I’ve only kissed one man.”
“I do not understand where this story is leading.” All he knew was that the moment the words had left her lips, the desire that he felt coiling in his stomach had gone unbearably tight, his need ramping up to unendurable proportions.
When she spoke again, her tone was thin, shaky. “It was at a party at university. And he was very popular. One of those very upper-crust-type guys. The kind that I would’ve done well to align myself with. Anyway, we ended up sitting on the couch together, and at one point during the evening he leaned over and kissed me. It was very disappointing. And yet sort of a relief, too. Because I knew then that I wouldn’t feel anything like the madness my mother seems to feel for my father. I knew that I was above it. I knew that it would never be a temptation.” She turned back to him, her green eyes fierce now. “But for some reason I’ve been wondering what it might be like to kiss you from the moment I saw you. I should want to hit you, not kiss you. And yet I find it’s just all mixed up. I don’t know why.”
Her words hit him with the force of a punch. And he gave thanks for the fact that he’d had the good sense to leave last night. Had he not they might have woken up to a world of regret in the morning. As it was, he would take the stiff joints. He refused to even allow his brain to process the full implication of what she was saying, because he knew that way lay further temptation. And he did not think he could handle that.
“You