Perfect Strangers. Laura Martin
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‘Macho shenanigans?’ He looked faintly amused, which didn’t help Olivia’s temper any. ‘What are you talking about? I didn’t even raise my voice, let alone my fists. You were insulted, I defended you. Are you now saying you would have preferred it if I’d left well alone?’
Olivia worked hard at putting her executive persona to full use. There was no reason to allow this man to patronise her so effectively; she hadn’t done anything wrong and she’d be damned if she’d allow him to talk to her as if she had! ‘I can handle my own problems,’ she asserted stiffly. ‘I don’t need other people fighting my battles for me!’
The lips curved into an infuriating, mocking smile and Olivia felt her irritation increase. ‘In that case, I’ll be on my way. I’ll use my car phone and order you another taxi—or does that constitute too much help?’
Another taxi? Olivia’s heart sank at the prospect. She watched miserably as Jake Savage strolled over to his Range Rover. ‘I only have to go a mile or so along this lane,’ she informed him stiffly.
He turned back towards her, raising a dark brow in query. ‘Is that a request for a lift?’
Olivia scowled, infuriated with herself, with him, with the whole ridiculous situation. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, in that case,’ ebony eyes lingered on her angry face and there was sudden amusement hovering near the corners of his mouth, ‘how can I refuse?’ He strolled back towards her and picked up a couple of Olivia’s suitcases.
‘Of course. . .I realise the accident wasn’t your fault. . .and if you have somewhere to go. . .’ she murmured, endeavouring to take the sting out of her voice and failing quite comprehensively, as he consulted his watch yet again. ‘I don’t want to disrupt your plans in any way. Maybe it would be best if I waited for another taxi.’
‘You disrupted my plans when the taxi you were in collided with my vehicle,’ he drawled with aggravating superiority, lifting up the back of the Range Rover to stow Olivia’s luggage inside. ‘It’s a little late for apologies now.’
‘I wasn’t actually apologising!’ she retorted sharply. ‘It may or may not have come to your attention, but I wasn’t actually driving the damned taxi!’
Jake Savage looked at her provokingly, his gaze traversing the length of her body with an infuriating lack of speed. ‘I never said you were.’
Attraction and now anger. Before. . .when she had first set eyes on him a hundred and one ridiculous notions had gone through her head, none of which bore thinking about now. Too humiliating, each and every one of them. Images that had shocked and seduced. All of them totally insane, absolutely impossible. . .
Get a grip! she chided silently. You’ve encountered handsome, arrogant members of the male species before—there were thousands of them littered all over London, so why allow this one to affect you so badly?
‘It wasn’t actually my fault, you know!’ Olivia repeated irritably. ‘I was just the passenger, and besides, if you hadn’t have gone over the top the way you did, with the heavy macho bit, I wouldn’t have been stranded and you wouldn’t have had to give me a lift in the first place.’
‘I still don’t.’ Jake Savage turned and looked down at her with eyes that gleamed and an expression that told her to watch her step. He glanced overhead. ‘It’s about to rain. Do you think you could possibly stop talking and pass me up those last two suitcases? If we don’t get a move-on we’re both going to get very wet indeed.’
She was tempted to tell him what he could do with his lift. But that would mean her much longed-for new beginning would turn into even more of a disaster and there was no way she could manage all this luggage on her own. And he was right, she thought, glancing up at the sky; it was going to rain.
The deluge began just as the last of Olivia’s luggage was packed in the Range Rover. The rear door was slammed shut with a curse and dark eyes speared her face. ‘Well, what are you waiting for, permission? Go on, get in!’ he ordered as Olivia attempted to shelter beneath the inadequate folds of her long cashmere cardigan.
The interior was all male; no lipsticks lying around, no boxes of tissues, no stray toys. He wasn’t married, he didn’t have a family, and if he had a woman, which he probably did, he didn’t allow her to encroach on the day-to-day running of his life. Olivia, damp and breathless, told herself all this in a few seconds. Although why it should have been of any importance. . .
‘What on earth have you got in the back there?’ He climbed up and took his seat behind the wheel. ‘The kitchen sink? You must be taking one hell of a long holiday.’
‘It’s not a holiday,’ Olivia replied, averting her eyes from the strong profile beside her as she fastened her seat belt and tried to assume an aura of calm assurance. ‘I’ve come to live here.’
He turned to look at her and Olivia, disarmed and disorientated by the direct gaze, smoothed her damp blonde hair back from her face and wondered what sort of a mess she looked.
‘Just you and your suitcases?’ There was derision again, and a hint of scorn evident in the rugged features, as if the prospect of Olivia settling amongst the local community was not realistic in some way. She was aware of the dark eyes sliding over her figure; her plum-coloured dress and matching cardigan had got more than a little damp and as his gaze lingered she felt as if the outfit was clinging to every contour.
‘Yes!’ she replied. ‘Is there something wrong with that? Look, would you stop staring at me like that?’ she snapped, unable to endure the steady, speculative gaze a moment longer. ‘What’s the matter, have I suddenly grown two heads or something?’
The impassive features didn’t flicker, but then a predatory smile lifted the corners of the finely moulded mouth. ‘No, you’ve still got just the one.’ He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared into life. ‘Interesting,’ he drawled, ‘you don’t like me looking at you.’
‘Was I supposed to?’ Olivia responded sharply.
‘I was just returning the favour,’ he informed her provokingly. ‘You did seem to find it pretty difficult to drag your eyes away from my body earlier on.’
‘Why, you—!’
‘So,’ he continued smoothly, cutting through Olivia’s angry response, ‘where exactly is it that I’m taking you?’
Olivia glanced across at the handsome face. To heaven—or to hell and back? she wondered. The words seared into her mind. She felt suddenly disorientated, shocked by the strength of her reactions to this man, bemused by the intense emotions he seemed to be able to conjure up inside her.
‘Are you OK?’
His eyes scanned her face with thrilling intensity. Olivia looked away, pressing a hand to her flaming cheek. ‘Let me see.’ He reached towards her and tilted her chin. ‘Yes, it’s starting to look pretty sore. Did you bang your head hard?’ he asked, gently twisting her towards him so that he could look into her face.
‘No. . .just my cheek. It wasn’t much,’ Olivia added swiftly. Did he think she was injured, concussed? Maybe she was, maybe that was why she felt so strange. ‘I’m fine, honestly.’
‘Do you have a headache?’ She shook her head, azure eyes fixed helplessly now on the strong, rugged features. ‘Does your neck hurt?’ His hands slid down and she felt his fingers beneath the collar of her dress, pressing gently against her skin. ‘Any pain there?’
‘No.’ She gulped an unsteady breath. ‘I’ve told you. . . I’m all right’
Ebony eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t look all right.’
Silence. A second passed, then ten. The rain was beating on the roof of the vehicle, but she didn’t hear it—neither, it seemed, did he. She saw his look change, recognised the stunned awareness in his face so easily—it was as if she were looking into a mirror,