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‘Yes, actually you were.’ Why sugar-coat it?
He clasped a hand to his breast in mock horror. ‘You wound me, Maddy.’
‘Well, now you know how it feels,’ she snapped, annoyed by his teasing. What was so flipping hilarious?
He frowned, then bolted upright, the lazy smile gone. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ The colour drained from his face. ‘You were so tight, but I thought you were ready.’
She flushed, a little ashamed of herself. He looked genuinely horrified. ‘No. That’s not what I meant.’
‘Thank God.’ He scrubbed his hands down his face, then pinned her with that sexy, intense look again and her nerve-endings sizzled some more. ‘Look, how about we make a deal, Madeleine?’
She didn’t like the sound of that, and she wished he’d stop saying her name in that low, intimate way. But then he took her wrist again, pressed his thumb to the pulse point—and she lost focus. ‘What deal?’
‘I’ll sling your clothes in the machine—and, when they’re done, I’ll drive you home myself, if you still want to go.’
‘You have a washing machine?’ she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
‘Yeah.’ The lazy smile was back. ‘I know this place looks like a throwback to the Stone Age, but it does have a few mod cons.’
‘I see,’ she said, annoyingly tempted.
His offer would be a lot nicer than having to push the bike three miles down the coast road, in a rain storm, in wet jeans. No question. But she wasn’t sure about that if. Or the way the gentle rub of his thumb was playing havoc with her pulse.
‘You promise you’ll drive me home? No questions asked?’
‘Absolutely,’ he said. But she wasn’t at all sure she could trust him. He had that damn sexy and intense thing going on again.
Or that she could trust herself. Why was her pulse doing the foxtrot?
He released her wrist and lifted her chin with his forefinger. ‘Go run yourself a hot bath—and I’ll put the laundry on.’ Leaning up on his elbow, he gave her a quick kiss. ‘Relax,’ he said as she tucked her bottom lip under her teeth, far too aware of the sizzle where his lips had touched hers. ‘I won’t jump you again. I promise.’
‘All right,’ she said tentatively. Not sure how he had got the upper hand but knowing that somehow he had.
She shot off to the bathroom as he slung the sheet back to get out of the bed. The last thing she needed was a glimpse of that very nice bum naked to make her lose focus completely.
Closing the door behind her, she listened to his foot thump against the polished oak floorboards as he limped out of the room.
It was only when she was neck deep in pine-scented bubbles that she discovered his promise not to jump her left him far too much room to manoeuvre.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘WHAT are you doing?’
Rye winced at the shriek of alarm as water splashed over the rim of the tub and Maddy dunked down to her chin.
He choked back a chuckle at her horrified expression—and shut the door. The twin spots of colour on her cheeks and the tendrils of damp hair sticking to the graceful line of her neck made it hard for him to breathe as he crossed the room.
‘Do you mind?’ she said, outraged, her angry eyes flashing at him again.
‘Not at all,’ he said, unable to contain a smile as he settled on the wicker seat beside the tub and extended his stiff leg.
She glared at him. ‘You promised you wouldn’t jump me. Remember.’
God, but she was gorgeous. Especially when she was miffed. No wonder she’d been the one to bring him back to life. At last.
‘I’m not going to jump you,’ he said, tucking one of the tendrils behind her ear.
He ran the base of his thumb down her throat, satisfaction coursing through his veins when she swallowed convulsively. He’d lost a lot of things in the last six months, but she’d given him one of the most precious back and he intended to thank her, in the only way he knew how. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just gratitude he was feeling at the moment.
