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‘So, do I get an address or do we just drive round London all night?’ His thoughts had made his voice abrupt, for which he offered no apology. She rattled him, he admitted it.
Rosalie glanced at him, her nostrils flaring at the tone. ‘I live quite close to the office in Kensington,’ she said shortly. ‘I’ll direct you when we get nearer.’
‘Thank you.’ It was sarcastic.
‘You’re welcome.’ Why did he have to make everything into a confrontation?
The rest of the journey was conducted in silence until they reached Kensington, whereupon Rosalie duly directed him to the crowded terraced street where she lived. Number twenty was identical to its neighbours, and as Kingsley drew up outside the house he glanced at the five steps leading from the pavement to the front door. His expression said it all.
‘I know; not ideal in the present circumstances,’ Rosalie acknowledged tightly. But then she hadn’t rented the flat with the possibility of becoming injured in mind. ‘I’ll get Jenny to bring some crutches round tomorrow,’ she added, to let him know she wasn’t totally oblivious to what was needed. ‘That way I can be mobile again.’
‘Mobile in the very loosest sense, I take it,’ Kingsley qualified coolly, opening his door as he spoke.
As the tall lean figure exited the car Rosalie did something she hadn’t done since childhood, and stuck out her tongue at the departing back. Okay, childish maybe, she thought guiltily, but he made her so mad she could spit.
W
hen he opened the passenger door he didn’t swoop on her immediately, letting his eyes wander over her face for a moment before he said, ‘Do you often regress to kindergarten?’
The man must have eyes in the back of his head. Rosalie refused to blush this time. ‘You deserved it,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m trying to make the best of what is going to be a difficult and awkward situation for me, and your comment wasn’t exactly helpful.’ She glared at him, her mouth set tightly.
He considered, head slightly on one side. ‘You’re right. I apologise.’ It was said with what sounded like genuine remorse.
She blinked. ‘Yes, well, I should think so,’ she said lamely. She didn’t know what else to say.
‘I’m glad you’ve accepted my apology so graciously.’ He had gathered her up as he spoke and Rosalie was immensely pleased she’d had the foresight to get her key ready. He held her as she opened the door and then stepped with her into the wide hall. The house was three storeys high with a flat on each floor and a basement that housed the landlady of the property, and as Kingsley glanced about him and then looked towards the stairs, his voice was resigned when he said, ‘Don’t tell me, you live on the top floor?’
‘This one actually,’ she said smugly. ‘That’s my front door just there.’ It felt enormously good to put him right.
He glanced down at her, his lips twitching at the satisfaction in her voice. ‘Clever you,’ he said softly, his eyes so blue they seemed luminous. His gaze intensified as it had done once before, but this time they were not in a car park and there were no interruptions.
Slowly his head bent and Rosalie made no move to avoid his mouth, watching with fascinated eyes as it came nearer. His lips were warm and firm as they touched hers in a fleeting kiss that held no threat, lingering just for an infinitesimal moment before he straightened, saying, ‘Let’s get you inside, you’ve had one hell of a day.’
He took the two or three steps to the white-painted front door before she had time to collect her scattered wits, and then she realised she was still holding the main front door key rather than the one to the flat. Her cheeks flushed, she found the appropriate key on her bulky keyring, which housed numerous office keys as well as personal ones, aware her hands were shaking and praying all the time he wouldn’t notice.
She had allowed him to kiss her. Was she mad? She had to be! What on earth was he thinking now? Did he imagine it was an invitation for more of the same? Over her dead body!
She pushed the key into the lock, turned it, and then they were in her small square hall. ‘I’ll be fine now.’ She tried to straighten but he took no notice of her efforts to be free, even when she said, ‘Could you put me down, please?’
‘Sitting room?’ It was cool and unconcerned.
‘What?’ And then she collected herself, pointing to the first door off the hall as she said quickly, ‘In there, but really you don’t have to stay now. I know you have an appointment and it was good of you to bring me home.’
‘This is great.’ Once they were in the sitting room he glanced about him appreciatively, but Rosalie was in no mood to admire the décor, even if she had spent months decorating and furnishing her flat so it was exactly how she had imagined it on the morning she had first viewed it some years before.
The sitting room was the largest room with big windows that ensured there was lots of natural light, and she had made the most of this with a colour scheme of soft yellows and buttery cream, and pine furniture. She pointed now to the huge pine sofa that took up most of the far wall, and which was brimming with scattered cushions in varying shades. ‘If you put me down there, I’ll be fine,’ she said again, making sure she kept her head bent so he couldn’t possibly think she was propositioning him.
‘I’m not going to leap on you, Rosalie.’
He put her down as requested as he spoke, gently and with care, and for a ridiculous moment she felt a sense of loss as the close contact finished before his words shocked her into raising her head. ‘I know you aren’t,’ she lied vehemently. ‘But you have a dinner engagement.’
‘Did have,’ he drawled, watching her with narrowed eyes as he stepped back, crossing his arms. ‘When Kirk was sure something was broken I cancelled it.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she protested shakily.
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps postponed is a better word. Does that make you feel better?’ He didn’t try to hide the mockery.
‘But I’m—’
