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‘And you didn’t like that?’
Scarlet lifted her head and her eyes skated warily across his lean face; he no longer looked angry. It was hard to read from his apparently relaxed expression what he was feeling.
‘Would you like it if I went around kissing my old boyfriends? Daft question, I don’t suppose you’d even notice,’ she ended on a self-pitying sniff. With a deep sigh she closed her eyes. ‘God, this was such a stupid idea. I don’t know how I let you talk me into it?’
‘I would notice.’
Her eyes widened at the aggressive declaration. ‘You would?’
His fingers curved around her jaw, turning her face up to his. ‘And I wouldn’t like it.’ His dark eyes shimmered. ‘Actually I wouldn’t like it quite a lot.’
Her heart started beating very fast. ‘What would you do?’ she whispered.
A slow wolfish smile spread across his dark, lean face. ‘I’d throttle him…just a little, you understand, but enough so that he got the point.’
Suddenly her throat was so dry she could hardly speak. His primitive statement should have appalled her and here she was excited…and trying very hard not to let him see how excited.
‘The point being?’
‘That my wife is off limits.’
‘I thought we were grown-ups,’ she reminded him with a disgruntled glare. ‘Besides, I don’t see why I shouldn’t kiss whoever I want—you do.’
He laughed. ‘That wasn’t a kiss…’ She read his intent before his head lowered. ‘This,’ he told her throatily, ‘is a kiss.’
With a sigh she leaned back in her seat. Her lips felt tender and her body was gently thrumming with thwarted desire. It had been a kiss, but she had wanted more.#p#????#e#
‘You know it’s very, very hard to stop kissing you once I start.’ It was some small comfort that his voice reflected some of the strain and frustration she was experiencing.
‘Then why did you stop?’
Roman jerked his head towards the back seat where Sam was sleepily rubbing his eyes. ‘We have an audience.’
‘I want a drink,’ Sam announced loudly.
‘And you shall have one,’ Roman promised. ‘Look, there’s the house,’ he said, starting up the engine.
‘It looks like something out of a Jane Austen book,’ Scarlet said in an awed voice as the big building loomed ahead of them. She turned reproachful eyes on him. ‘You said it wasn’t very big.’
‘It’s only bricks and mortar—don’t let the size intimidate you.’
Easy for someone who had been brought up here to say. ‘Is it very old?’
‘Late Georgian,’ Roman explained. ‘With some rather ugly Victorian additions. Ask my father about the history…you’ll regret it, but you’ll score plenty of brownie points.’
‘Is that what you want me to do?’
He scanned her pale, tense face with wide, anxious eyes and he exhaled deeply. ‘For God’s sake, will you stop worrying about what other people want and do what you damned well want?’
His anger made her blink, but it seemed to drain away as fast as it had erupted. He reached across and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek; she shivered as his fingertips lightly grazed her skin. ‘Do you like it?’
‘Like?’ she repeated, fighting the compulsion to rub her cheek against his hand.
‘The house.’
‘Oh, right…yes…’ She pulled back and his hand fell away. ‘Like wasn’t the right word,’ she modified. ‘It’s big and very beautiful.’ Just like you. ‘I suppose people had lots of children in those days.’
‘Mum is trying to persuade Dad to retire to Italy. She’s talking of renovating one of the estate cottages for when they come over. She thinks this place is too big for them now.’
Scarlet looked up at the daunting façade and tried but failed to imagine Sam watching Saturday morning cartoons on the telly there…she couldn’t. ‘I can see her point.’ She stiffened as two figures began to walk across the forecourt.
‘Oh, God…’
She was in too much of a panic to notice when Roman left the car without comment. He opened the passenger door with Sam secured against his hip with his free arm. He looked at her pale face.
‘They’ll love you.’
‘Says you,’ she hissed back, wishing she could share even a fraction of his daunting assurance.
Roman seemed to lack any insight into her feelings. Didn’t he understand what it felt like to be here under sufferance, the woman that came with the grandchild they wanted—a package deal?
