November Harlequin Presents 1(126)

She spared him another of those swift, flashing glares over her shoulder.

‘To my room—to pack, seeing as you’ve made it so plain that you don’t want me here. It would have been easier if you’d told me before I emptied my case.’

He let her get right to the door, waiting a carefully calculated moment, watching for the almost imperceptible hesitation in the fingers that reached for the handle…closed over it…flung it open…

‘You can stay,’ he said quietly, stopping her dead halfway out the door.

For a second or two he thought she hadn’t heard. Her foot was actually still held out in front of her, preparing to take the next step. But then, very slowly and silently, she lowered it to the ground, and stood still.

‘What did you say?’ she asked, not looking at him but staring straight ahead of her, into the now shadowy hallway.

‘I said you can stay.’

For a moment Becca couldn’t move. She felt as if she didn’t know what to think—how to think. She had the strangest feeling as if time had suddenly gone backwards and she and Andreas were back in the past, in the time when they had been together, before they were married.

Her strategy had worked exactly as she had planned it would. She had called his bluff, made it appear that she was about to leave, and he had let her get so far and then called her back. He was going to let her stay.

She should feel triumphant—she should feel happy. Andreas’ change of heart meant that she could have a hope of talking to him about Daisy—about the money so desperately needed to give her baby niece a chance of life. But she only knew a tiny glimmer of triumph and her other feelings were so complicated and mixed up that they kept her frozen, her eyes wide and sightless. Before she could talk to him about Daisy he would have to recover his memory and the momentary glimpse she had just had into a past where they had been together—happy together—tore at her heart with the reminder of how it would be when he recalled the truth. He had thrown her out of the house, out of his life, because he believed she was only after his money. The thought of his reaction when he learned that she was only here now because of money again drained the blood from her limbs, making her legs tremble beneath her.

‘Becca? Did you hear what I said?’

She had hesitated too long, arousing Andreas’ suspicions. Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of the fact that he had got up from his chair, looked as if he was about to come towards her.

‘Yes, I heard.’

Slowly she turned back to face him, her expression carefully blank.

‘You want me to stay as your nurse or as…?’

She couldn’t find a word to express the alternative—lover—partner—mistress—wife?—and so she just let the sentence trail off unfinished.

‘As whatever you want.’

Then an arrogant flick of his hand dismissed the question.

‘Definitely not my nurse! You know what I think of that idea. So why don’t you just stay—as my guest? Then if you think you need to keep an eye on me you can.’

‘And what would I do the rest of the time?’

‘Oh, I feel sure that we will think of something.’

‘Like what?’ Becca demanded, eyeing him warily.

A note in his voice told her that the flirtatious mood of a short time before had not, as she had thought, evaporated when she’d called his bluff by heading for the door. In fact every instinct she had ever had where this man was concerned was screaming at her that the lazy sensuality of his smile was deceptive in its indolence. The black eyes might be hooded and partially hidden under heavy lids but she could see enough of the gleam in them to know that his thoughts were not on the idea of her taking care of him—in the nursing a convalescent meaning of the words, at least.

‘Like this,’ Andreas murmured with misleading softness and before she was even aware of the fact that he had anything planned, or could even think of taking any avoidance moves, he took several long, firm strides forward, covering the distance between them in a matter of seconds.

This time she had no warning. This time there was no change in his voice, no hint from the look in his eyes. This time he took her completely by surprise and so instantly had the upper hand, with total control over the situation.

‘Like this,’ he said again, low and rough.

His hand came under her chin, holding it tight. He lifted her face towards his and his mouth came down hard on hers, taking it in a burning, searing kiss that made her thought processes stop dead, then shatter into a million tiny fragments.

She couldn’t think; she could only feel. And what she felt was heat. The heat of his mouth, his breath on her skin. The heat of his arms coming round her, that long, powerful body so very close to hers. But it wasn’t just a physical heat that blazed through her. There was the burning fire of response, the sensation of her blood temperature climbing higher and higher with each accelerated beat of her heart. Her whole system was going into meltdown, her mind seeming to cease to exist, her nerves, her skin, even her bones becoming molten with desire so that she sagged against him, unable to hold herself upright, and it was only the strength of his support around her that kept her from collapsing in a trembling and abandoned heap right at his feet.