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The Billionaire Bodyguard(8)

By:Sharon Kendrick

       
           



       

She wanted to say Don't look at  me that way! She wanted to tell him  that he didn't have a hope in hell  if that was what he was  thinking-even while a Keri she didn't know or  recognise was wondering  what it would be liked to be imprisoned in the  embrace of a man with  arms as muscular and as powerful as his.

'Keri?' he said softly.

His  voice seemed to come from a great distance away, and her own, in   response, sounded low, husky-a world away from her usual cool tones.   'Y-yes?'

'Get a couple of plates down, would you?'

He saw  the flustered look in her eyes as she quickly turned away. So  she had  felt it too-that indefinable chemistry which existed between  the sexes  and sometimes shimmered through the air when you were least  expecting  it.

No, that wasn't quite true. He had been expecting it. He was  as  hot-blooded as the next man. Mix up an attractive man and an  attractive  woman, stir in a little bit of circumstance, and usually the  result  would be fairly predictable. Jay had been used to women coming on  to  him since he was old enough to want them to.

But Miss Beauty  was different. This was a woman who would put up  defences-probably a  necessity when you looked the way she did. She  would be wary and on her  guard against men who wanted her-and what man  in his right mind  wouldn't?

And you didn't get a woman like that to want you back-not unless you played her very carefully.

Keri put a plate down on the table with a hand which wasn't quite steady.

'You aren't eating?' he asked.

'I'm not eating that,' she said. 'I'll have the peaches.'

'You're kidding?'

'No,  Jay, I am not. They will do just fine-and you should never eat a  heavy  meal before-I mean … after six,' she finished, licking at lips  which were  suddenly parched. She had been about to say before bedtime,  but she'd  bitten the words back in time.

'Suit yourself.' He shrugged his  shoulders and began to ladle the food  out, liking the way she'd said his  name-real slow and sweet, as if  she'd dipped the single syllable in  honey.


She watched as he heaped on what seemed to be an enormous amount of food.

'You honestly aren't planning to eat all that yourself?'

He flicked her a glance. 'I have a big appetite,' he said gravely.

Keri  felt her knees grow weak. This was awful. Or was it inevitable  that  once sensual awareness had shivered into the mind it was  impossible to  think straight, or to forget it? He's your driver, Keri,  she reminded  herself. 'Then you should be careful,' she said coolly as  she dolloped  peaches into a dish. 'Or one day that muscle will turn to  fat.'

'I  don't think so. If a man stays active he doesn't get fat, and I am  very  active.' He smiled. 'Now, let's take all these goodies next door.  We  can sit in front of the roaring fire and then … '

'Then what?' she questioned, her voice rising in alarm.

'Then you can tell me the story of your life.' His eyes gleamed with anticipation. 'So far.'





CHAPTER FOUR




SOMEWHERE  between the kitchen and the cavernous sitting room Keri gave  herself  the kind of silent pep-talk that she hadn't really needed since  she was  in that hormonal state of mid-teen flux which made girls think  their  heads were composed of cotton wool.

There was no denying that he  was a gorgeous man, nor that she seemed to  be attracted to him, in a  rather confusing, pulse-racing kind of way.  But that was hardly  surprising. You would need to have been made out of  stone not to  acknowledge his physical presence or his to-die-for face.  And he had  taken charge and got them here safely, and there was an  unmistakable  appeal about that too. A man who could protect definitely  did appeal to  an age-old and very feminine need which until this moment  she hadn't  realised she possessed.

Yet it was more than that. All her adult  life she had mixed with men  who were good-looking, who probably could  match him muscle for  muscle-though theirs was of the type which was  honed at the gym, which  she suspected Jay Linur's wasn't. He looked as  if he had been born  strong and capable.

But looks were just the  exterior package-she of all people knew what  they could hide-and the  thing about Jay Linur which seemed to set him  apart was a kind of inner  confidence and ease. And, yes, it was  surprising for a driver, and  particularly surprising that he didn't  seem to be fazed by the fact that  he found himself in these isolated  surroundings with a woman who would  usually have the most confident man  slightly lost for words.                       
       
           



       

Perhaps  it was because he had nothing to lose that he seemed to have  the  ability to treat her as she was so rarely treated-as if she was  just  another woman and he was just another man.

Which was all he was. A  man who was capable in crisis, but ultimately a  man she would never see  again once that crisis was resolved. So she  had better forget all about  the hard, rugged profile and stop snatching  surreptitious little looks  at the hard-packed body.

The fire was roaring now-a glorious  blaze of amber and crimson logs  sending off the most delicious smell as  they burned-and she saw that he  had put a small pile of blankets down to  warm, well out of spitting  range.

Keri sniffed the air, her  heart hammering, trying to draw her attention  away from the heap of  blankets and its implications. Where on earth  where they going to sleep  tonight? With an effort, she dragged her  thoughts back to the fragrant  smoke. 'Mmm.'

'Applewood,' he informed her as he put the tray  down. 'And there was  dried lavender scattered in the bottom of the  basket. Good, isn't it?'

Keri nodded. He had parked his  long-legged frame on the floor, and  after a moment's indecision she  joined him. Because it made sense. This  was where the warmth was-as  close to the fire as possible.

But it seemed too intimate-a  feeling not helped by the fire, nor by the  fact that the candlelight  created a romantic look to the room. Never  before had she realised the  seductive potential of candlelight even  though she had sat in countless  restaurants which used it. She told  herself that the soft, flickering  light was designed to create a  romantic 'mood', and she must be sure and  remember that the mood they  were creating here was an illusion.

He  poured her a glass of wine. When she was pensive like that she  looked  ridiculously young-softer and sweeter. But models were  tough-they had to  be. He'd known a few in his time-women who wore so  many different masks  that in the end you wondered whether there was any  real substance  beneath.

'Here,' he said.

'Thanks.' She turned her head to  take it from him, startled by the  cold, searching light in his eyes, as  if he was examining her under a  microscope, as a scientist would.

'Eat,' he said sardonically. 'Mmm-those peaches look so tempting!'

Keri  had trained her appetite rigorously over the years. She had learnt  to  regard hunger as a normal state; you needed to if you were to fit  into  the clothes you were expected to wear on shoots or on the catwalk.   Unlike most of her peers, she didn't smoke any more-and whenever she   wanted more food than she knew was necessary to maintain her slender   frame she usually went for a walk, or read a book, or arranged flowers.   Displacement therapy-none of which were remotely possible here and now.

She  ate a peach and took a large gulp of wine, trying to ignore the  smell  of Jay's food wafting towards her and trying not to watch as he  curled  the spaghetti round his fork and ate it with a pleasure which  was almost  sensual. How could some meaty slush like that smell so … so  tempting?

For  a while he said nothing, just ate with slow and obvious enjoyment.  Then  he moved a forkful towards her. 'Here. Have some,' he coaxed  softly.

The  smell was tantalising. 'I don't eat wheat,' she said weakly.  'Remember?  Or … or red meat … particularly out of a tin.' She screwed her  nose up in  an expression of disgust she didn't quite feel.

'Suit yourself.' He transferred the forkful back and ate it himself, and began to scoop up another.

On  the one hand she knew exactly what he was doing-trying to tempt her   into eating when he knew she didn't want to-and yet there was this   unrecognisable Keri who didn't care, whose stomach was empty and   rumbling.

'Go on,' he said. 'You know you want to.'

His  eyes were brilliant, hard and gleaming like a diamond, and now  another  loaded fork was just inches away from her mouth. Keri responded   instinctively, her mouth opening like a goldfish, and he ladled the  food  in before she had had time for second thoughts.