AllFreeNovel
Share Us
How long was the wretched phone going to continue ringing?
‘You’re not my fiancé,’ she retorted. ‘I only work for you…’ Her words trailed off as his nostrils flared.
‘Only? Only? Oh, that isn’t only all that you do for me, Kalera…’ He leaned forward just far enough for his erection to tease the fabric of her taut skirt.
Kalera swallowed. ‘Look—he knows I’m here. If I don’t answer he’ll ask me about it tomorrow—’
‘You can tell him you were in the shower.’
‘I don’t shower in the evenings.’
‘You did the night you slept with me. When you came to bed your skin was all soft and clean and soap-scented. For the next few weeks, every time I had a shower I washed myself all over with that very same cake of soap…’
Her hands clutched protectively at the front of her blouse.
‘Stop it! Just stop it! And let me answer my own damned phone!’
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction at her rare flash of temper. ‘Maybe Steve won’t be happy until his suspicions are confirmed. Maybe he figures that if he calls often enough the law of averages will apply and one night he’ll catch you out when your lover accidentally picks up the phone.’ His arms dropped away and he stepped back. ‘Maybe I should answer it and put him out of his misery…’
He headed for the door and after a frozen moment Kalera burst into action.
‘No!’ Aghast, she grabbed at the back of his T-shirt and hauled on it, not knowing whether he really meant to carry out his threat or was merely tormenting her with the possibility. There was a brief tug of war over the stretching T-shirt, in the midst of which she became aware that the ringing had finally stopped.
With a sob of relief she let go and Duncan wheeled back, the merciless kitchen lighting exposing the depth of his anger.
‘Let that be a lesson to you,’ he told her ruthlessly. ‘If you think you feel guilty now, wait until he really gets to work on you—you’ll be apologising for drawing breath without his permission!’
She took a sharp breath, furious at him for manipulating her emotions simply to illustrate a point. ‘It’ll be different when we’re married—’
‘The hell it will!’ he exploded incredulously, naked fury crackling out of every pore. ‘After what happened between us just now you must have realised you can’t possibly go ahead with this farcical engagement!’
His words merely confirmed her painful suspicion that what had been for her a spontaneous loss of control had for Duncan been a carefully planned and executed assault on her virtue. She had been tested and had failed miserably. But that didn’t mean that she should give up and let passion rule her life, she told herself fiercely. Giving up the dreams that she had held since girlhood for the sake of the fleeting ple
asures of the moment would be by far the greater failure!
‘I don’t see why not,’ she said, straightening her slim shoulders.
‘Because you don’t bloody love him, that’s why!’ he yelled hoarsely.
‘That’s your opinion.’ She held steady, as she always did, in the face of his flamboyant wrath.
‘It’s not an opinion, it’s an obvious fact!’ he grated. ‘Tell me, would you have carried on like this with me if I’d been around when you were engaged to Harry?’
Her face went white, then red, as if he had struck her.
‘Let’s leave Harry out of this,’ she said, almost choking on her outrage. She had finally worked out—idiot that she was—that whenever Duncan was trying to talk her into doing something that went against the grain he invoked the spirit of her dead husband to soften her up and use her feelings to distract her from the issue at hand.
‘No, of course you wouldn’t have,’ he answered for her. ‘You stopped looking at other men when you found Harry. I never even had a chance with you while he was alive. But with Stephen it’s different—whatever else you feel for him, he obviously doesn’t excite you sexually. If he did you wouldn’t be using me to provide you with your orgasms—’
Her hand cracked across his cheek, the force of the unexpected blow snapping his head to one side and knocking the insulting words back on his tongue. By the time he had recovered she had marched to the front door and thrown it open with a crash, the red mist of rage blurring her vision making it momentarily difficult to see him as he trailed after her.
‘Get out!’
He emerged from the red veil moving with deliberate slowness, sullenly manipulating his injured jaw. ‘Does Steve know you pack a punch like that, or am I the only man who can provoke you to such violent passion?’
As a blind shot across her bows it was devastatingly effective. Thank God it was Friday night. By the time she had to face him again she would have been able to put the whole humiliating episode into its proper perspective.
‘Go!’ She pointed out into the darkness and instantly regretted her overly dramatic gesture when an irrepressible spark of humour smouldered to life in the brooding depths of his eyes.
