November Harlequin Presents 2(255)
In the bathroom, Jed dried himself briskly, drawing the huge towel back and forth across his broad shoulders, his glistening muscles flexing and hardening with the effort. Leaning forward, he rubbed at the mirror on the wall with his fist, to allow his reflection to appear through the misty glass. He paused for a second, and the hint of a smile crossed his elegant features. The evening was obviously not to have the passionate conclusion he might have wished for under other circumstances…Not that that had been his intention tonight. Far from it! Yet it was funny how things might work out, he thought. Profit and loss were no strangers to him. They were part of the balance sheet of life. It was the final account that was important.
Reaching for the remaining robe on the back of the door, he shrugged himself into it and paused, his eyes narrowing for a second. His first instincts about the woman had been pretty sound, he thought—as all his instincts usually were. She could prove to be very, very useful to him in the future—if he could get her on his side. It was obvious there was going to be strong opposition to his plans in some quarters, but he’d get his own way in the end. As long as he didn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater! He smiled darkly to himself. He knew how to please women, knew their sensitive points, both physical and emotional. But this particular woman was different. He’d known that from the moment he’d set eyes on her. When he’d arrived so unexpectedly at the office that morning she’d seemed totally indifferent, although he was sure she must remember their conversation in his own shop, and the remarks she’d made—not all of them complimentary!
Silently, he went into the bedroom and stared down at the inert figure on the sofa. She was fast asleep, breathing deeply, dead to the world. He paused, his fertile mind in overdrive, as usual. Then, bending, he picked her up effortlessly in his arms and carried her across to the bed.
CHAPTER FOUR
A COLD white light filtering in through a crack in the curtains met Cryssie’s sleepy gaze as she struggled to rouse herself from deep slumber. For several seconds she lay there, totally unable to get a grip on herself. This wasn’t her own bed…this was a large, deliciously comfortable double bed, the luxurious duvet wrapping itself around her extravagantly. Stretching, she curled her toes in warm and blissful comfort, before suddenly memory—and her true situation—hit her like something hurtling from outer space.
Easing herself into a half-sitting position, she rested on one elbow and looked around her cautiously. There was no sign of Jed, or any of his clothes, and on the sofa lay the one pillow and the cover, which had been neatly folded.
Aware that her heart had gone into racing mode, Cryssie flopped back and stared up at the ceiling. What had gone on last night? And why was she here, and not on that sofa? Swallowing nervously, she loosened the belt of her bathrobe and smoothed her hand over the flat plane of her stomach, testing her muscles and reflexes for a sign—any sign—that anything of an intimate nature might have taken place. Though it beggared belief that she wouldn’t have known about it!
She knew immediately that absolutely nothing had happened to her while she’d slept—the fleeting thought of that possibility discounted in a split second. She knew that Jed Hunter would not have taken advantage of her in that way, and anyway…He would have expected a co-operative lover who would enjoy and participate in his physical attentions, not an unconscious and passive partner!
She paused, letting her thoughts run on for a few moments. But she had not walked across to this bed—he must have carried her here. The realisation that she’d been so exhausted and out of it as not to have been aware of that, was deeply disturbing. Quite simply she’d been totally at his mercy, and her vulnerability came as delayed shock, so that her heart raced again and she trembled slightly, sitting up now, and running her hand through her tousled hair. Her mouth felt dry and unpleasant from the alcohol she’d drunk last night, and what she really longed for most was a large mug of hot tea.
As if in answer to her thoughts, the door opened and Jed came in, carrying a tray holding a glass of orange juice, a small pot of tea and a rack of warm toast. In spite of everything Cryssie couldn’t help smiling as he came across to the side of the bed and, glancing down at her, said smoothly, ‘Ah—glad to see you’ve surfaced at last.’
He placed the tray on the bedside table and looked down at her in a way that made her heart beat even faster! He certainly had the advantage over her—again—because he had obviously shaved and showered, and looked fantastic—as always.