Pitch Imperfect(54)

Guilt and hope circled like eternity rings in her thoughts, forever entwined. Anjuli rubbed her arms, regretting she hadn’t thought to bring a wrap. A twig snapped and a tall figure detached itself from the trees behind her.

“Can you find Orion?” Rob asked, walking up to her.

He joined her at the fence and gazed at the sky. His body was silhouetted only by distant stars outlining his profile, half man, half shadow.

Anjuli searched the sky. “Up to the left, ready to strike.”

“A confident hunter.”

“Too bad Virgo’s out of reach.”

His low chuckle rolled over her skin. Anjuli shivered and rubbed her arms, and Rob took off his jacket.

“Thanks, but I’d better get back.”

“To Damien?” he asked sharply. “Do you know what it does to me to see you kiss him?”

A rush of exhilaration swept Anjuli’s heart out of her chest and into space. She dragged herself back to earth. “I think Sarah is looking for you.”

“Jealous?” he said, an indefinable tone in his voice.

“Of course not. I’m just letting you know, being a friend.”

“Friend.”

Rob seemed to taste the word slowly, suggestively, as if he was savouring the texture of each consonant and vowel, melting them on his tongue before sliding them down his throat. Anjuli held her breath. He wasn’t supposed to react like that, as if she’d just handed him a slice of double chocolate gateau oozing rich, succulent caramel.

She cleared her throat. “That’s right, I’d like to think we’re friends, a man and a woman who communicate amiably without bump and grind or hanky-panky. Surely you know what that is?”

“Bump and grind or hanky-panky?”

“I’m not interested in either.”

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

Whether it was her reckless mood or Rob’s nearness that rooted her to the spot she didn’t know. She was tired of second-guessing his behaviour, sick of wondering if he was biding his time; watching, waiting, playing with her until he was ready to strike. Exhausted by trying to erase him from her heart.

“I don’t understand you,” she said. “One minute you’re all about having sex, telling me it’s inevitable I’ll fall into bed with you, and the next you barely acknowledge me. You never stay long at Castle Manor, you don’t talk to me at the pub and you communicate only via email. I didn’t even know you were going out of town until Connor told me this morning.”

Rob contemplated her as fixedly as he had the sky and—hold on a bloody minute, was that a smile on his face?

“Tomorrow morning I’m going to London. I’ve got a few meetings to attend, and then I’m flying to the States on Monday night,” he said, and when her eyes widened, he shifted his gaze to the moors. “It’s for business. I emailed you about it last Wednesday, underneath the list of supplies being delivered this morning.”

Oh. She’d skimmed the list and run out, late for her shift.

“Connor’s more than capable of finishing the walls and conservatory while I’m away. He can also show the Planning Officer around, as I mentioned. But I can tell you what my movements are in the next few weeks...if you want.”

“What do you want?” she asked heatedly. “You haven’t taken your eyes off me all night, but you haven’t spoken to me either. You came to the ceilidh with Sarah, yet you don’t want me to kiss Damien.”

No response.

“Oh, I get it,” she said sarcastically. “You’re sleeping with the lovely Sarah Brunel and you want to mess with my head, not my body, is that it? Sex with the ex is off the menu because you’ve got a new screw.”

Oh God, had she really said that? Alone with him under a starry sky and she turned into a jealous shrew? The words hovered between them. She couldn’t take them back and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

Rob pushed his hands off the fence so hard it shook. “Damn it, lass, of course I want sex. I want it the second I see you walk into a room, the minute you open your mouth and every time you look at me like you are now.”





Chapter Twelve

Rob grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “That night in London is branded into my mind,” he said raggedly. “As is every other time we’ve made love. When I go to bed I shut my eyes and see your face, your lips, your body. Do you know how angry that makes me? How hard it is to know you used me?”

“So you want revenge?” she cried. “You want to treat me like a sex toy because that’s what I did to you and then we’re even? Okay, fine, go ahead and do it.”