‘Hundreds,’ he replied.
Harriet paled. ‘But...that might mean I could be here for the next ten years!’
‘Now that,’ he agreed with a grin, ‘could be a problem. Talk about growing old on the job.’ But he sobered as she moved restlessly. ‘Not to mention the other complications it would cause.’ And the way his gaze roamed up and down her figure gave her no doubt that he meant complications in an extremely personal way.
‘Uh—look, I’ll think about it tomorrow,’ she said hastily. ‘Right now I should probably go to bed. I’ll need—’ she smiled shakily ‘—all my resources tomorrow if I’m to track down hundreds of things like warthog tusks.’
She laid the tusk back in its box, briefly tidied the table top, and came purposefully round the table towards the door.
Damien uncoiled his lean length from the stool and barred her way. ‘Am I getting my marching orders, Miss Livingstone?’ he said softly.
Her eyes flew to his. ‘This was your idea—’ She stopped abruptly and could have kicked herself.
‘Mmm...’ He scanned the way her breasts were heaving beneath the lilac wool. ‘My idea for us to desist? So it was, but are you claiming you had another direction in mind for us?’
‘No. I mean—’ she bit her lip ‘—I don’t know of any other way there could be and that’s sad but probably a blessing in the long run.’
He put his arms around her. ‘I didn’t mean to make you sad. I could so easily...turn things around. Like this.’
His kiss, and although she’d known it was coming she did nothing about it, was like a balm to her soul.
She no longer felt hollow and lonely and restless. She felt quite different. Smooth and silken as his hands roamed beneath her jumper and his lips moved from hers to the hollows at the base of her throat to the soft spot where her shoulder curved into her neck.
Then he took her by surprise. He lifted her up and sat her on the table and she wound her legs around him—to have him grin wickedly down at her.
‘If you only knew what your legs do to me,’ he murmured, and his hands moved up to cup her breasts.
Harriet paused what she was doing, running her hands over the hard wall of his chest, and rested her hands on his shoulders. And she tensed.
‘What?’ he asked, his eyes suddenly narrowing.
‘Someone coming,’ she breathed and pushed him away so she could slide off the table and rearrange her clothes.
‘Someone’s always bloody coming,’ he grated.
But whoever had been coming changed their mind and the footsteps receded.
Harriet let out a quivering breath.
‘Would it matter if anyone saw us?’ he asked abruptly.
She stirred. ‘Surely it would complicate things even more?’ She laced her fingers together. ‘Damien...’ She closed her eyes briefly. ‘I’m sorry this happened. I’m sorry it keeps happening but if there’s no future for us, if you’re sure, I need—I need to go away from Heathcote.’ Silent tears were suddenly coursing down her cheeks. She scrubbed at them impatiently. ‘I have nearly finished your mother’s things but if there are hundreds more...’ She gestured helplessly. ‘And the paintings. I don’t see how I can stay. Surely you m-must—’ her voice cracked ‘—agree?’