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Lucas was lying slumped on her two-seater sofa, one arm dangling on the floor by his empty plate and the other flung across the cushions in unconscious abandonment. He was fast asleep. Kim stopped just inside the room, her stance like that of a doe before a hunter, and then walked carefully to his side.
Now those riveting eyes were closed and his face was in repose she could see just how exhausted he was. She stared down at him, her eyes drinking in every line and contour of the hard male face. The authoritative sweep of his black brows, the uncompromising cheekbones and determined mouth all spoke of power and hard virility.
It was a face that told the onlooker that subjugation was not an option, that defeat was an unknown and unacceptable concept, and the big lean body and muscled strength evident in every inch of the honed frame was daunting. And sexy. Indescribably sexy.
He was dead to the world. A little shiver ran down her spine and she ached to put her lips against the sleeping mouth, to trace the faint indentation in the stubbly masculine chin. She should wake him up and tell him to go, especially in view of what had occurred before she’d gone upstairs to Melody. He might look curiously vulnerable and exposed at this moment, but it was an illusion. There wasn’t a vulnerable bone in Lucas’s body.
Her eyes lowered to the strong male throat and the beginnings of dark body hair just visible below his open collar, to powerful masculine thighs against which the material of his trousers were straining.
Was he hairy all over? Her breath caught in her throat and she suddenly felt as guilty as if she were a peeping Tom, but she still couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the sleeping giant in front of her.
What would it be like to wake up beside him in the morning after a night of making love? She found she had no defence against the erotic thoughts crowding her mind. To taste him, please him, to have him taste and please her? But she was talking about a lover, here, about giving someone the rights to her body and her life.
Suddenly all the horror connected with the days of her marriage flooded in and she felt smothered with the weight of the memories. She took several long deep breaths, pulling at the air as though she were drowning, but still the feeling of being trapped and desperately frightened was overwhelming.
She couldn’t talk to Lucas now, not now. She needed time to come to terms with what her head was telling her. She stood for a moment more and then crept out of the room to fetch the spare quilt, draping it over the sleeping form when she returned to the sitting room and turning off the lights before she closed the door again.
Once in the sanctuary of her bedroom Kim sat on the edge of the bed and stared vacantly into space.
Lucas Kane was stretched out on her sofa and it looked as though he was there until morning. She shook her head bewilderedly. Somehow the impossible, the unimaginable had happened. Maggie just wouldn’t believe this!
She got ready for bed with both ears straining for the slightest sound from the sitting room, but there wa
s nothing.
Once in bed Kim tried to read for a while but although she dutifully turned the pages she couldn’t remember a word she’d read when she thought about it.
Eleven o’clock came and went, then half-past, and finally it was midnight. Lucas was definitely here for the night. Kim put down the book, drank a glass of water and slid down under the covers with a sudden feeling of que sera sera.
Short of marching downstairs and throwing him out she could do nothing, she told herself silently, so she might as well try and get some sleep herself. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening, and she had the feeling the next day wasn’t going to be any better.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN Kim awoke to the smell of frying bacon she thought for a moment she was still dreaming.
It had been almost light before she had fallen into a fitful doze followed by an hour or two of deep, exhausted slumber, and now, as she glanced at her tiny alarm clock, she saw she had overslept by nearly an hour.
In all the confusion and heart searching of the night before she must have forgotten to set her alarm, she thought feverishly, flinging back the covers as she swung her feet to the floor.
It was unfortunate that Lucas chose that precise moment to enter with a cup of tea. Unfortunate for Kim that was. For Lucas the sight of Kim in a sheer, whisper-thin nightie with her blonde hair tousled and tumbled and her eyes wide with shock was the best start to a day he could remember for a long time.
‘Lucas!’ Kim shot back in the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, but not before she had seen the spark of something hot in the silvery eyes.
‘I should hope so,’ he said calmly. ‘Who else were you expecting?’
‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ she reminded him severely, her colour high. ‘And I’m late; I forgot to set my alarm.’
‘Relax.’ He strolled over to the bed and her hormones went into hyperdrive. The designer stubble was dynamite. ‘You’ve plenty of time to get Melody to school—and if you’re late for work the boss will understand.’
Kim slid a tentative arm from under the covers, the other still holding the duvet tight round her neck, and took the cup of tea he was offering with a nod of thanks.
‘One sugar, I understand?’ Lucas said lazily. ‘Melody’s helping me cook breakfast and is a mine of information as to your likes and dislikes. That’s a very intelligent little daughter you’ve got there.’
‘I know.’ Just go. Go.
‘You look gorgeous to wake up to.’ Lucas seemed in no hurry to leave, his eyes stroking over her flushed face and his stern mouth uncharacteristically tender.
‘You didn’t wake up to me,’ Kim protested quickly.
