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‘You’re lying on it.’
‘What?’ Propping himself up on his elbow, he frowned.
‘This is a studio flat,’ she explained. ‘Everything’s in one room, including the kitchen—although the bathroom’s off the hall. Haven’t you ever seen a sofa bed before, Leon? If I had the energy I could demonstrate how you can tug the mattress out from underneath to make a very small double bed.’
Leon started to laugh. No, he had never seen a sofa bed before. Just as he’d never been somewhere where you shared a sleeping space with a kitchen. He yawned. ‘Why don’t you show me in a while and we can spend the rest of the evening here?’
She hesitated, a look of uncertainty crossing her face. ‘If you?
??re expecting dinner, I’ve only got leftover lasagne in the fridge.’
‘I don’t care what you’ve got in your damned fridge, Marnie. The only thing I want to feast on is you. Now stop blushing and go and get us something to drink.’
He almost regretted asking when she removed her delicious warmth from his proximity and he wished she hadn’t pulled that unprepossessing white blouse over her head. Pillowing his head on his folded arms, he watched her walk across the limited space to a tiny fridge, thinking that maybe the blouse wasn’t such a bad idea after all, for it ended midway down her bottom, allowing him to fully appreciate the abundant flesh of those peachy curves. She was still wearing the hold-ups—although now with a tear snaking down the back of her left leg. Should he arrange to have some silk stockings delivered? he wondered idly, before dismissing the thought. Given her spiky independence, she was more likely to garotte him with them than wear them.
She turned round, a glass of water in each hand, and as their eyes met a punch of something he didn’t recognise slammed at his heart. It was desire. It must be. What else could it be? How did she do it? he wondered feverishly as he felt the inevitable hot hardening at his groin. How did she make him want her this much?
He waited until she had returned to the sofa bed and they’d drunk some water—until he had made her come with the flick of his tongue and afterwards she had licked him back as if she were slowly working her way through a large ice-cream cone. It was only then that he pushed away the pale tumble of her mussed hair.
‘I think we should do this again, don’t you?’ he questioned idly.
He felt the sudden tension in her body.
‘This?’ she queried, lifting her head from his chest to stare at him, as if seeking clarification. ‘Celebrating my sister’s acquittal? I’m hoping she’s going to avoid any more court cases, if that’s what you mean.’
‘You know damned well that’s not what I meant, Marnie.’
‘I’m a hairdresser, not a mind-reader. Could you be a bit more specific?’
Leon frowned. He would have preferred she had worked this out for herself rather than him having to spell it out. But maybe it was better this way. There would be no way she could misinterpret his bald words, nor attach any kind of unwanted significance to them.
‘I’m talking about seeing one another again when I’m in town.’
‘You mean for sex?’ she questioned carefully.
‘I suppose that’s one way of describing it.’ There was a pause. ‘I prefer to think of it as mutual enjoyment.’
She was still regarding him with that unblinking stare. ‘And you would expect me to be available?’
He shrugged. ‘Only if you wanted to be.’
A long silence followed his remark. He realised he was hanging onto her every word and for one insane moment he actually thought she might be about to turn him down, but then those wintry eyes narrowed speculatively.
‘No strings?’ she said.
That was supposed to be his line.
‘No strings,’ he concurred.
‘Because I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment.’
‘Neither am I,’ he said faintly. ‘I don’t want marriage and I definitely don’t want children, but I—’
‘You, what?’ She tipped her head to one side, her blond hair falling untidily over her breasts, drawing his attention to them and making it imperative that he flick his tongue over their puckering surface as soon as possible.
‘I want you,’ he concluded huskily.
‘Yet you’re still looking shell-shocked,’ she observed caustically. ‘What’s the matter, Leon? Haven’t I been eager enough in accepting your offer? Do women usually cling to you like limpets in this kind of situation?’
