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The champagne had certainly loosened her tongue, Jed realized. She would probably never have told him the truth stone-cold sober. It made him feel a lot better, knowing he had provided something for Ben—although unwittingly.
‘You didn’t have to tell me that, but I’m glad that you did.’ Unable to resist the temptation, he brushed his lips gently against hers.
‘My pleasure,’ she murmured as long lashes fluttered down over her blue eyes.
Her head fell back against the curve of his shoulder, exposing her slender throat, and her hand dropped on to his thigh. He tensed, raising his head to let his dark gaze roam over her delicate features and lower, to where her breasts were outlined by the blue velvet V-neck top she wore. The ache in his groin he had been fighting all day intensified.
Phoebe looked up at him, all soft and willing, her lips slightly parted, and he could not resist lowering his head again and licking the lush outline of her mouth, before allowing his tongue to dip inside and lightly stroke hers. Then he withdrew to trail kisses down the elegant length of her throat.
‘I swore I would not do this again.’
Phoebe was beguiled by the lazy gentle kiss and the caress, but Jed’s huskily drawled comment penetrated the champagne-induced fog in her brain. Suddenly she realised his arm was around her shoulders and she was curled up against him, her hand on his leg, her slender fingers massaging a muscular thigh.
For the life of her she could not understand how she had got herself in this position yet again with a man she had despised and feared for the past five years. Too much champagne, that was how…
‘You are not doing anything,’ she said, struggling to sit up and swiftly removing her hand from his thigh. ‘In fact you can take yourself off to a hotel. I don’t trust you here.’ She moved along the seat, out of his reach. She didn’t dare stand up as she felt a little dizzy. She hoped from the champagne rather than from his kiss.
‘You don’t trust yourself, Phoebe, and I am going nowhere. But don’t worry—I will be strong for both of us.’
Jed’s amused drawl infuriated her, and getting to her feet she stared at him. ‘The middle of the sofa folds down. There’s linen on the table to make up the bed. I am going to mine, and I don’t want to see or hear you until tomorrow morning, you conceited, arrogant pig.’
Jed let her go…
Picking up his mobile phone, he flicked through the photos he had taken during the day and smiled. His son…Benjamin…The knowledge was still new, but the steely glint in his eyes as he came to the end of the pictures was not. Irrespective of Phoebe, whatever it took Ben was family and he was going to live with him…
He glanced at the time before switching to his messages. Ten in the evening—when had he ever gone to bed so early? he mused. The last time he’d actually spent the whole night with Phoebe. Not a good night to remember. The sex had been incredible, but the morning after had been a disaster.
He caught up with his calls, and then, connecting his laptop to a secure wireless network, worked solidly for the next three hours. A few problems had arisen that he was going to have to attend to in person in London, he realised as he finally signed off. He had not been out of the office for so long in years, and before that he had not been concentrating but wondering about Phoebe. Now he knew the incredible truth he was energised and itching to get back to work—and with a son and heir he had an added incentive.
He wasn’t wasting any more time trying to talk sensibly to Phoebe. Tomorrow he was going to tell Ben he was his father and take it from there. The sexy, malleable girl of twenty-one had morphed into an even sexier, sophisticated but stubborn woman. He could wait. She would come round to his way of thinking in the end—in his experience women always did.
He was not a conceited man, but endowed with looks, brains and wealth—especially wealth—he had never met a woman yet who would not jump to marry him given half a chance. Phoebe was no different. The lure of a life of luxury would eventually overcome any scruples she might have. But he was not waiting for his son.
Phoebe woke up and groaned for a moment, not sure where she was. She forced open her eyes and realised she was at the caravan, and as the memory of yesterday surfaced she groaned again.
Another day with Jed was not something she wanted to contemplate. She’d had as much as she could stand from the man, even though her wayward body seemed to delight in making a liar out of her.
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She sat up in bed and glanced at her wristwatch. Nine in the morning. It couldn’t be…Ben was always awake at the crack of dawn. Her first thought was that he must be ill. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she was about to stand up when Ben burst in.
‘Great—you’re up, Mum. Jed said I had to let you sleep, but you have been asleep for ages. We have been down to the café on the seafront and had breakfast and everything.’
‘You should have called me. You know you must not go anywhere without telling me.’ She was terrified at the thought Jed had taken Ben. He could have driven Ben off to heaven knew where—her worst nightmare…
‘Jed said it was fine, because you were tired and needed a rest.’
Phoebe looked down at her son and saw the worried look in his eyes. She forced a smile ‘Yes, it was okay—but don’t do it again without telling me, hmm?’ Planting a kiss on his brow, she straightened her shoulders, silently cursing the damn man.
Only to find Jed was now standing at the foot of her bed.
‘Good morning, Phoebe. I hope you slept well?’ he drawled in a deep husky tone, his dark eyes roaming over her with blatant masculine appreciation.
She swallowed hard and felt her breasts tighten beneath her top. He looked so gorgeously male, wearing jeans and a blue sweater, and suddenly she was terribly conscious of the short pyjamas she wore.
‘Yes,’ she muttered, pink-cheeked with embarrassment and unable to look him in the eye. She tried to straighten the clinging cotton top, but only succeeded in revealing her burgeoning nipples.
‘Mum, Mum—you will never guess!’
