Page 49 of Lovers Not Friends


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‘I would have thought that was pretty obvious,’ he drawled lazily as his hands continued their dizzying wander over her body. ‘I’m calling you to lunch, of course.’

‘Lunch?’ She shuddered deeply as his hands drifted slowly over her flat stomach, smothering the sound of pleasure that rose into her throat. ‘I don’t understand …’ For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was and then, as her senses returned and she took in the sights and smells of the garden, she sat up jerkily, almost knocking Blade off the lounger as he crouched over her on his knees. ‘Will you stop that!’ She knocked his hands away from her in a desperate gesture of repudiation.

‘Sure.’ He had frozen at the none-too-subtle rejection, his eyes icing over and his body tensing, and as he stood upright she saw his face had hardened, a derisively cruel gleam darkening the beautiful eyes. ‘I only intended a waking kiss after all, sweetheart; it was your reaction that set the ball rolling.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She stared at him, mortified, as he laughed softly, the sound chilling.

‘No?’ He glanced at her body which mirrored her mind’s betrayal, her breasts hard and pointed and straining against the thin cloth, her skin flushed and warm and aroused. ‘Who’s kidding who, Amy?’

‘I was asleep.’ She felt her lips tremble at his contempt and tried desperately not to let it show. ‘I was dreaming.’

‘Amy.’ His quick eyes had caught her distress and now all mockery was gone as he knelt at her side, his gaze searching her face with an intensity that was unnerving. ‘It’s not wrong to respond to your husband, is it? Even before we were married I wouldn’t have called you frigid or inhibited—what the hell has happened to you, woman? It’s as though—’ He stopped abruptly and shook his head as he stood up again slowly, his face dark and grim. ‘It’s as though you’re forcing yourself to hate me. Why?’ he asked harshly.

‘It’s not like that.’ She swung her legs over the side of the lounger, letting her hair shimmer into a golden curtain between them. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘I sure as hell don’t,’ he agreed on a small snarl that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that if she looked up his face would be bitter and cold, and who could blame him? she asked herself painfully. Did he love her any more? A tight band constricted her chest, stopping her breath. Probably not, she acknowledged with agonising honesty. How could he after all that had happened? But he still desired her physically and that was almost as dangerous.

‘You said something about lunch?’ She couldn’t bear to raise her head and see his face as she spoke the trite words. ‘I’m starving.’

There was a long minute of silence and then his voice came from above her head, cold and controlled. ‘So am I,’ he said expressionlessly, and as she followed him into the cottage it came to her, on a little stab of fear, that he hadn’t been talking about the roast beef dinner laid out on the small kitchen table.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘WOTCHER, darlin” Amy turned quickly to confront the bunch of leather-clad youths who had just driven open the door of the restaurant with unnecessary force. ‘Got any leftovers, then?’

‘We’re just closing.’ She stitched a polite smile on her face with some effort as she pointed to the small sign at the side of the front window. ‘We don’t take orders after ten.’

‘Well, that’s a shame, ain’t it, Mick?’

Mick gave a vacant leering smile as he nodded agreement without taking his eyes off Amy, his ginger hair thick with grease.

‘Cause we’re a bit thirsty, see? The lads fancied a cup of coffee and a doughnut or somethin’. Didn’t you, lads?’ The speaker was a massive burly man of about twenty who looked as though most of his brains resided in the part of his anatomy that rested on the seat of the monstrous motorbike he had parked outside. ‘An’ they can get a bit naughty, like, if they don’t get what they want.’

‘Amy?’ Arthur had obviously caught the tail-end of the conversation as he stepped through from the kitchen, and his voice was placatory as he nodded at the group who had seated themselves sprawlingly at the table by the window. ‘I think we’ve got some doughnuts in the back and the coffee pot is still on.’ He motioned for her to take his place in the kitchen. ‘All right lads?’

‘Yeah, jump to it, girl.’

He obviously fancied himself as something of a wit, Amy thought tightly as she flashed one scathing glance at the boy who had been doing all the talking before walking thankfully through into the kitchen to the sound of the group’s bawdy mocking laughter. This was all she needed! She closed her eyes tightly in protest for one second before putting a batch of doughnuts hastily into the microwave as she switched on the coffee again.

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