Sensual Encounter. Кэрол Мортимер
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a halt, looking up at him in the darkness. ‘What was?’ she queried warily.
‘The reason you’re spending time in a half empty hotel in mid-March.’
‘Oh, but it isn’t going to be half empty for long,’ she derided. ‘Apparently there’s some sort of conference starting at the end of the week; I have to vacate my room then.’
‘Good business management,’ he murmured appreciately. ‘I often wondered how these big hotels at seaside resorts survived through the winter.’
‘Well, now you know,’ she taunted as he held the door open for her, the lighted reception area showing she had been right about his identity; he was the man with the laughing blue eyes and the teasing smile that made the waitress blush as she served him his meal.
‘I certainly do.’ Again he seemed unaffected by her rudeness. ‘Would you like to join me in the bar for a drink?’
‘No, thank you.’ She pushed her long red hair away from her face, slightly wet from the damp air outside.
His mouth twisted. ‘It was a man, wasn’t it, the reason you’re hiding yourself here?’
‘I’m not hiding anywhere!’ she snapped.
‘No?’ he taunted.
‘No!’ Her eyes glowed her anger, there was a healthy colour to her cheeks from her walk on the beach.
‘Then have a drink with me.’ He thrust his hands into the back pockets of his denims, looking at her challengingly.
She was being goaded into accepting, she knew that, and yet something made her want to accept that challange, to show herself that she might have been hurt by one man but she was still capable of attracting another one. ‘I’ll have a glass of brandy, thank you,’ she accepted haughtily.
If he was surprised by her change of mind then he didn’t show it, seeing her seated at one of the plush booths before going up to the bar to get their drinks. Kate compared his attire to the formality of some of the other men in the room, and found him wanting, although he seemed unconcerned, carrying himself with a confidence that said to hell with convention.
‘Here we go.’ He put their two brandy glasses down on the table, sitting close to her in the booth. ‘Now tell me about yourself.’ He sat forward, his elbow on the table bringing him very close to her.
She avoided his gaze. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘You come from London.’
‘So do you,’ she guessed in return. ‘So what are you doing here?’
‘It’s off-season—–’
‘And the rates are lower,’ she finished derisively.
‘There is that,’ he grinned. ‘Although I was going to say there were fewer people.’
‘Of course you were,’ she mocked.
‘Don’t you get tired carrying that around with you?’ He looked at her consideringly.
This time she was ready for him. ‘The scowl or the chip on my shoulder?’ she asked with sarcasm.
He began to smile, then he chuckled, and finally he laughed. ‘I like a woman with a quick mind.’
‘Only a quick mind?’ she heard herself asking, putting the glass of brandy down with a shaking hand as she realised the brandy on an empty stomach was starting to make her head swim. She hadn’t wanted her food earlier, and the glow spreading through her body reminded her of that fact. ‘I think perhaps I should go—–’
He stayed her with his hand on her arm. ‘Don’t,’ he said huskily. ‘Stay,’ he encouraged softly. ‘Tell me your name.’
Why shouldn’t she stay and talk to him? Brian certainly wouldn’t be pining away for her. Brian. She had tried not to think of him today, and she felt sure this handsome man with the devil in his eyes could help her to continue not to think of him.
She picked up her glass and drank some more of the brandy, feeling her recklessness grow with each mouthful. ‘My name is Kate,’ she told him throatily.
‘Just Kate?’ He raised dark brows.
‘Just Kate,’ she nodded, deciding there was no reason for him to know anything else about her.
He smiled. ‘Then I’m just Jared.’
‘That suits me. Would you like another drink?’ she offered after swallowing down the last of her brandy.
‘An independent woman, hmm?’
‘Very much so,’ she agreed tautly.
He sat back in a relaxed pose. ‘Then I’d love another drink.’
Kate never knew afterwards how much she had had to drink during the evening, or quite what they talked about, but suddenly it was after eleven and Jared was suggesting walking her back to her room. Only he didn’t want to leave her at the door, and it had nothing to do with the brandy that she invited him in.
The double bed that dominated the room added intimacy to the moment, and Jared seemed to become aware of it at the same time she did, their gazes locking and holding, the move into each other’s arms made simultaneously, their lips meeting in a quest for mutual need, for forgetfulness on Kate’s part.
She had known the moment he identified himself on the beach that the evening was going to end this way, knowing a need to feel wanted, to feel a woman, to know that it had nothing to do with her own attraction that had so suddenly changed Brian towards her.
What she hadn’t been prepared for had been her reaction to a man she only knew as Jared! Brian was the man she loved, but even he had only made her feel contented in her response to him, her real pleasure being in knowing she had pleased him. This man wasn’t prepared to settle for contentment, his lips and hands ravaging her body in a fiery quest, taking her higher than she had ever wanted to go before.
Jared didn’t rush a thing; each inch of her body was given his own brand of lovemaking, encouraging Kate to know each tautly muscled line of his body in return, their bodies finally melting together in such accord that she gasped at the pleasure of it, measuring the movements of her body to the smooth thrusts of Jared’s, clutching on to the dampness of his shoulders as she arched into him in gasping ecstasy.
Jared had been insatiable that night, and for two more days and another night too, and while in his arms Kate hadn’t been able to think of anything but him. She had let him take control of her life for the time she was with him, hadn’t wanted to think of the reason she had come to the hotel in the first place, or of the lonely weeks ahead of her when she returned to London. She hadn’t wanted to think of Brian either, or of the way he had hurt her. And she hadn’t; she had given herself completely to Jared for the time they were together.
But the time for her to leave had arrived all too quickly, and with it the fact that she was Katharine Collier, the twenty-four-year-old owner of an up-and-coming advertising agency, and certainly beyond a clandestine affair with a man who didn’t look as if he had ever worn a dinner suit in his life.
They had talked little during their time together, preferring to communicate with their bodies, and when Jared had asked to see her once he had returned to London she hadn’t known what to say. Jared had proved himself to be an intelligent man, with a lively sense of humour, and a sensitivity that often made her cry out for mercy—a mercy she neither desired or was ever granted. But he was far removed from her life in London, and the thought of seeing him again there wasn’t something she wanted.
That last day together they had lunched together in the dining-room, the staff politely ignoring the fact that they hadn’t been seen for two days and serving them quietly and efficiently. But Jared’s desire to see her when they returned to London made her wish that the meal was over and she were driving back to London.
‘I’ll be very