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‘It’s very nice,’ she responded carefully.
‘You should have come upstairs.’ His voice was bland but his eyes were wicked as he noted the pink in her cheeks. ‘The two bedrooms are real old world England, sloping ceilings and tiny diamond-leaded windows—’
‘I’ve been in plenty of cottages in my time, Blade,’ she interrupted stiffly. ‘I do know what they look like upstairs.’ She took another desperate gulp of coffee and glanced at her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. ‘I really ought to go now.’
‘Would you like a brandy with that?’ he asked lazily as he gestured towards her coffee, completely ignoring the content of her words. ‘You look as if you need one.’ He appeared overpoweringly masculine in the small pretty room, the black shirt and trousers emphasising the lean hard power of his big body and the tanned darkness of his skin. He stood up slowly as she shook her head, his eyes thoughtful. ‘That must be painful.’
‘What?’ She stared up at him in confusion as he stood over her, the deliciously clean smell of him causing her stomach muscles to clench in protest.
‘The way your hair is strained back. Your scalp must be screaming in protest.’ He reached out a large hand and released the knot in one deft movement, standing back in approval as her hair cascaded on to her shoulders in a riot of rich gold. ‘Now tell me that isn’t better.’
‘It was fine the way it was,’ she snapped quickly. ‘And I must go now, Blade, please.’ She fumbled with her hair helplessly, her cheeks flaming with colour. This could all easily get out of hand, which was probably exactly what he had planned. Why, oh, why had she been so foolish as to get in the car in the first place? And she must have been mad to follow him in here. What would the psychiatrists say about that? she thought bitterly; that she secretly wanted him to sweep away all her objections, overpower her with his superior strength?
‘In a while.’ He sauntered across to a small occasional table standing underneath one of the windows and poured her a small measure of brandy, blatantly ignoring her earlier refusal. Another delaying tactic?
‘I said no.’ She eyed the dark alcohol in the bottom of the balloon glass warily. ‘Aren’t you having one?’
‘I don’t drink and drive,’ he said shortly. Once seated again he stretched out his long legs comfortably, his body relaxed.
Unlike hers, Amy thought painfully. Every nerve-ending was throbbing with awareness, her whole nervous system as tight as a coiled spring. He, on the other hand, seemed almost unaware of her presence and as she peered surreptitiously under her eyelashes she saw to her chagrin that his eyes were closed and his head laid back.
‘What are you so frightened of, Amy?’ He didn’t open his eyes as he spoke and the deep voice was almost expressionless.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said flatly as her heart pounded.
‘I think you do.’ He adjusted his position in the chair and smiled a cold hard smile, still without opening his eyes. ‘A cat on a hot tin roof would be easy to have around compared to you. What is it you’re hiding?’ Now the black eyes opened and their intensity was unnerving. ‘A one-night stand? Something like that?’ His very stillness was intimidating and she took a deep, long breath as she met the piercing eyes.
‘Is that what you think?’ she asked painfully.
‘The ball’s back in my court again?’ He eyed her laconically. ‘Very clever, sweet thing. No, as it happens, I don’t think that, not now, but where you are concerned I’ve discovered I can’t quite trust my feelings as I can in every other area of my life. I don’t like that, Amy.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She stared at him, nonplussed by the cool control.
‘I want you, physically, very much.’ His voice was almost conversational. ‘In spite of everything that’s happened that doesn’t seem to fade. Damn inconvenient really.’ He sat up in one fluid movement and now she saw the real Blade for one piercing moment as his eyes met hers before the shutter came down and masked his soul from her gaze. There had been a fire blazing away there, an angry, vitriolic fire that wanted to consume and destroy, and for the first time since entering the cottage she felt pure undiluted fear flood through every limb and tissue.
‘Yes …’ She stood up slowly, frightened to move too quickly, to do anything that might set loose the monster behind the man. ‘Well, if you’re ready …’
‘I’m not.’ He eyed her grimly. ‘And you haven’t touched your brandy.’ She watched him silently as he reached for his cup, swallowing the contents in one gulp. ‘More coffee?’
