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He almost lost it, there and then. A lifetime of being in complete control gone because no one else had ever got under his skin like this. No one but Archie. He would never know how he managed to pull his brain into focus, to remember where they were, or that he was meant to be easing Archie’s stress, not adding to it.

It took everything he had to wrench his mouth away. This was pure physical desire, nothing more. Nothing more. But if that was true then why was he still behind her, why were his arms still around hers, her hands still held under his?

If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t sure he ever would. Somehow he found the strength to pull away.

The loss of contact was almost painful.

‘What was that for?’ Archie whispered, turning slowly to face him, her fingers hovering over her lips.

He wondered if her mouth burned for him as his did for her.

‘Call it my victory kiss.’ His attempt to sound casual fell far short of the mark. ‘Your forfeit.’

‘You didn’t win.’

Half teasing, half shaky, and entirely shocked. He knew exactly how she felt.

‘You’d better finish the game to prove it.’

‘I don’t give a damn about the game.’

He just gave a damn about her.

‘The game, Athari.’ She emitted a delicious growl.

All he really wanted was to haul her back into his arms and finish kissing her, thoroughly and completely. Even though it made absolutely no sense.

‘Right,’ he muttered eventually, stepping forward and taking the proffered club.

Stepping to the mark, he swung and hit. He barely even waited to see if it reached its mark. He knew it would.

‘Let’s go.’ He spun around and begun walking away, but he couldn’t help extending his arm behind him. Felt triumphant when she took his hand without a word.

He told himself it meant nothing, the way his chest constricted as her fingers entwined with his. He promised himself he’d let go as soon as they were back in the car.

But now they were back in the vehicle and he still hadn’t let go of her hand. He still couldn’t take his gaze off her sparkling eyes as he instructed his driver to finally take them home. He couldn’t shake the fact that the word home sounded somehow right, and natural, and easy, and perfect.

Archie stared right back at him, her gaze never leaving his for a moment, but he saw the hesitation on her face. Watched the way her tongue flicked out nervously to wet her lips.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

Uncertainty in her tone mingled with raw need. Kaspar gritted his teeth. It was a heady combination.

‘You realise that we kissed out there. Like a proper married couple.’

‘Imagine that,’ she tried to tease him, but her breathy tone belied her confidence.

Another Archie quality that he apparently found sexy as hell. Especially after the overly cocky women of his past. What had he ever seen in them? The answer was clear now. He hadn’t. They’d been the perfect choice for a man looking to keep himself emotionally unavailable because they’d never threatened to unravel his carefully crafted design. The construct that Archie had picked apart in a matter of months. Or, indeed, one heady weekend.

‘If people see us, recognise me with a woman looking as unambiguously pregnant as you look, your photo will be all over the papers. The internet. We might have kept things out of the media for now, but they will find out eventually and it will fire up their interest.’

‘So you’ll control it.’ She schooled her features. But it was too late, he’d seen that flash of contempt in her eyes. ‘You control anything you want to. You’re Kaspar Athari.’

Until a few months ago he might have believed her.

‘Not anything,’ he muttered. ‘I can’t control how I am when I’m with you.’

The words were out before he could swallow them back. Archie paused, as though momentarily unable to answer. Then her hand reached out, slowly, tentatively, giving him plenty of time to draw away. Had he wanted to. Her fingertips brushed his jaw. Gentle. Careful. But it fired him up nonetheless.

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