Page 29 of The Boss's Virgin


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Slowly, Randal pulled his head back and looked down at her, and Pippa opened her eyes to stare back at him, shuddering.

‘You kiss me like that, and yet you keep pretending you don’t want me?’ he whispered. ‘What’s going on inside that head of yours? We’re both free now, there’s nothing to keep us apart—so why are you still fighting it?’

CHAPTER SIX

SHE had asked herself the same question, ever since they’d met again, and she still wasn’t sure of the answer. They were both free now, as he said. She wanted him, she couldn’t deny it—and yet…

And yet for some reason she found herself backing away every time they came too close, and she didn’t know why.

‘You’re moving too fast,’ she guessed aloud without real conviction, pushing at his shoulders and taking a step back. ‘We only met again less than twelve hours ago and a lot has happened since then. My marriage is off, I’m leaving my job and selling my home—the last few hours have been an emotional avalanche. I’m still reeling. The last thing I need is you trying to force the pace.’

He let go of her slowly, frowning. ‘Maybe that’s it. But I’m afraid you’ll run away again. It’s a habit of yours. And you’re deceitful, Pippa. I left you getting ready to have lunch with me earlier today and what did you do? You ran away here, to Maldon. Why did you do that? Maybe that’s what you’re intending to do again. Maybe tomorrow morning I’ll find you’ve skipped the hotel and gone before I get up for breakfast.’

Soberly, she said, ‘I promise I won’t. I give you my word.’

He studied her face intently. ‘You’ll meet me downstairs for breakfast? You swear?’

‘I swear. What time?’

‘Eight-thirty?’

She nodded. ‘Eight-thirty. I’ll be there. Then I’m checking out and going home to write letters and make phone calls.’

He moved towards the door. ‘Okay, see you at breakfast, then.’

She followed so that she could bolt the door as soon as he had left and Randal looked down at her mockingly.

‘Goodnight.’ Bending briefly, he dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose, then he was gone, and Pippa bolted the door after him. That tiny, intimate caress left a warm feeling inside her, though, while she was undressing, taking off her make-up, washing, getting into bed.

There was something special between them; there had been from the beginning. She had never felt anything like that for anyone else. Oh, she liked Tom, but ruefully she had to admit that if she had married him it would have been a disastrous mistake. She would never have loved him, really loved him.

Switching off her bedside lamp, she lay in the darkness listening to the slow lap-lap of water on the quayside, an occasional footfall out there in the damp grey mist. Above her the ancient floors creaked as someone walked across another bedroom. Pipes hummed as water ran. But otherwise the hotel was quiet, nobody seemed to be listening to television or talking, and it didn’t take her long to get to sleep.

The room was full of sunlight when she woke up; the mist had obviously cleared. Slipping out of bed, she parted the curtains to peer out. The quay bristled with masts; brightly painted little boats moored in rows, bobbing against each other as the water rose and fell.

She read their names, smiling. The True Love; Scrumpy Joe; Heggarty Peggarty; Sue-Anne. Some of them had men working on them, unpacking sails, scrubbing decks, painting, coiling ropes. Along the quay sat men drinking mugs of tea or coffee. After the grey damp silence of yesterday, the quay had come alive and was full of people.

Sunshine made you feel happier. Smiling, Pippa walked into the bathroom and took a shower before getting dressed to go down to breakfast. Although she had eaten that large dinner last night, she was now hungry again, perhaps because the sunshine had lifted her spirits and she felt more positive.

She put on jeans and a bright turquoise sweater, did her make-up, then quickly packed her case before leaving the room. As she came down the ancient stairs she saw Randal sitting in a chair below, reading a newspaper and looking up every so often to check if she was on her way.

‘Why are you waiting there? Why not in the dining room?’ she asked him as he stood up to greet her.

‘To make sure you didn’t creep away without breakfast,’ he coolly admitted, flicking a glance over her from head to foot before following her into the dining room.

‘I promised I wouldn’t!’ A little flush flowed into her face at the way he had looked at her. He didn’t miss a thing, from the peaks of her breasts inside the sweater to her trim waist and long legs in the tight jeans. And that look, the glitter of desire in his grey eyes, made her pulses leap and race.

He shrugged. ‘I wasn’t entirely sure I could trust you.’

She couldn’t honestly resent that; she knew she deserved it.

They were shown to the same table they had occupied last night, and given menus. ‘Tea or coffee?’ asked a young waitress. ‘White or brown toast?’

‘Coffee,’ they both chose.

‘And mixed toast?’ suggested Pippa. Randal nodded, and the waitress vanished to fill their order.

Breakfast didn’t take up much of their time; Pippa just had a bowl of fresh fruit followed by a boiled egg with toast. Randal had porridge and a kipper. By nine o’clock they had finished, and left the dining room together.

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