Tangled Emotions. CATHERINE GEORGE
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Honest!’
He laughed and went round the car to get in. ‘You won’t nick my silver, then.’
‘No. Though I’d like to steal your flat. You’ve got great taste.’
His lips twitched as he switched on the ignition. ‘Confession time. I bought the place from a couple who were moving to a place in the Mediterranean sun, and some of their furniture was included in the sale.’
‘You mean none of that is yours?’
‘I bought the teapot and mugs myself! But once the flat in London is sold I’ll transfer my own stuff up here. Though I’ll need a dining table and chairs for the other half of the main room, which looks a bit empty as it is.’
‘Not to me,’ Fen assured him. ‘Just wonderfully uncluttered after Farthing Street.’
‘If you dislike it why do you live there?’
Why, indeed? She shrugged. ‘I told you. It was very cheap.’
‘I should damn well hope so. The furniture in that sitting room is gross.’ He took a hand from the wheel and touched hers in apology. ‘Sorry. But surely other people agree with me?’
‘You’re the only visitor I’ve had.’
There was silence after this statement, while Joe concentrated on the Sunday evening traffic. ‘Why me, then?’ he said eventually.
‘Because you happened along on your rescue mission.’ Her chin lifted. ‘I only asked you in that night because I was a bit shaken after my encounter with Robbie.’
‘Thanks!’ He slanted a look at her. ‘But why no one else?’
‘I’m in my Garbo phase,’ she returned flippantly.
Joe decided to press on as far as he could before stopping for dinner, but when they found a place which appealed to them they were told lunch was the only meal served on Sundays.
‘That could be a problem in other places, especially at this time of night,’ said Fen. ‘How about we pick up a Chinese and eat it on my kitchen table?’
‘Done. We’ll postpone the haute cuisine until another night,’ he said promptly.
She shook her head at him, laughing.
‘What?’ he demanded, as they got back in the car.
‘It’s the way you just assume I’ll fall in with whatever you suggest.’
He shrugged. ‘Only dinner.’
‘True. Let’s go. I’m hungry! In fact,’ she added, searching in her bag, ‘I’ve got a flyer here from the Chinese restaurant nearest to my place, so I could order now.’
Joe eyed her in admiration. ‘Clever girl!’
‘Hunger fuels the thought processes—how long before we get there?’ Fen consulted him on his preferences, used his cellphone to place the order, then sat back, smiling at him. ‘All this is a big improvement on last Sunday, Joe Tregenna.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I worked all day. And the week before that it rained so I went to the cinema.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes.’
Again he put out a hand to touch hers. ‘In future, any time you want company, just say the word.’
Which was why she’d brought the subject up.
Soon afterwards they were back in Farthing Street, digging into the containers spread out on Fen’s kitchen table.
‘I like to see a woman eat,’ approved Joe later, as they scraped the dishes clean.
‘It was all that sea air,’ said Fen, scrubbing at her mouth with a napkin. ‘But if I felt grubby before I feel mega-scruffy now.’
‘Whereas to me you look so good all flushed and shiny that I could eat you for dessert,’ said Joe conversationally.
She stared so blankly at him he threw back his head and laughed.
‘Could I scrub some of this grease off in your bathroom?’ he asked unsteadily.
Fen nodded. ‘Upstairs, first door you come to.’
When he’d gone off, whistling, she gathered the foil dishes into a bag and put it outside in the bin, feeling outrageously pleased by his remark, and washed her own hands and face under the tap in the sink before Joe came down again. In case he acted on his words.
‘The bathroom lives up to the rest of the décor—well, most of it.’ He smiled. ‘But your bedroom’s better.’
Fen’s eyes turned to green ice. ‘You actually looked in my bedroom?’
He nodded, unrepentant. ‘I was curious. And if my remark just now had you thinking I was going to jump on you as payment for taking you out for the day, you’re wrong. Though as a compliment I meant it,’ he added honestly. ‘I don’t know what’s going on in your life, and because you obviously don’t want me to know I won’t ask. But I can’t be the first man to find you attractive.’
‘No, you’re not,’ she agreed. ‘Men often say that kind of thing. It’s what blokes do, so I took no notice. The angry bit is because my bedroom is my own private space, and strictly off limits.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘To everyone.’
He returned the look, unmoved. ‘It just worried me to think of you sleeping in a room like the one downstairs.’
‘And now you’re reassured that I’ve imported a few girly touches to make a little nest you can go home a happy man—how sweet,’ she said with sarcasm. ‘Thank you for the trip, Joe. Goodnight.’
He stood staring down at her, no trace of humour in his eyes. ‘And goodbye? In that case—’ He seized her by the shoulders and planted a hot, hard kiss on her mouth, then before she’d gathered her wits pulled her into his arms to kiss her again, enfolding her in an aura of sun-warmed male mixed with her own soap, his lips and tongue seeking, and receiving, a response she couldn’t keep back.
Joe smiled as he released her, the laughter back in his eyes. ‘You kissed me back.’
‘You took me by surprise,’ said Fen, sounding so childish, even to her own ears, she gave a snort of laughter.
‘That’s better,’ he said in approval. ‘Look, Fen, I didn’t go in your bedroom. I just took a quick look through the door in the hope of finding one halfway comfortable room in this grim little house.’
‘OK. Sorry I ripped at you.’ She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t do much about the actual bedroom furniture, but the rest is my own. Though it beats me why it matters to you.’ But she was hopeful. ‘You needn’t lose sleep over me, Joe. I’m fine.’
He looked unconvinced. ‘Just the same, Fen, will you promise me something?’
‘It depends.’
‘If you need me any time, just ring. I can be here in minutes.’
She frowned. ‘Why do you think I should need you?’
‘I don’t know. I just have an uneasy feeling about this place. What are your neighbours like?’
‘No idea.’
‘You see what I mean?’
‘No, I don’t, so stop it, Joe,’ she said irritably, ‘you’re giving me the creeps.’
But he wasn’t listening. ‘Fen,’ he said after a moment. ‘How much do you earn at the Mitre?’
When she told him his eyebrows shot to his hair. ‘As little as that? In that case, if I knew of a job which would pay more—enough to let you rent something better than this—would you