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‘What money? Are you insane?’ A sick thrill whipped through her veins. ‘Two years? Are you suggesting that you and I—that I—that we were…That you and I had some sort of affair?’ she choked, putting a hand up to her swirling head.
‘You lived in my house and slept in my bed. It was more than just an affair.’
‘No, I don’t believe you…’ As the velvety blackness closed comfortingly in, she felt his strong arms closing around her gracefully collapsing body.
‘Swoon all you like, my faithless darling. I’ll still be here when you wake up. This time, there’s going to be no easy escape….’
CHAPTER SEVEN
NINA opened the door of her flat, her body tightening at the sight of Ryan Flint on the doorstep, looking wildly out of place in the shabby hall in his silk suit and cashmere coat. She hadn’t seen him since the fight outside the courthouse the previous week. She had thought she might never see him again.
‘You shouldn’t have come here…’ Her husky voice faltered at the smouldering impatience in the pale blue eyes.
‘May I come in?’
She fell back and he stepped over the threshold, slanting himself sideways as he moved past her in the confined space of the narrow entranceway, his long coat brushing against the neat blouse and slender navy skirt she had worn to work.
‘If this is about Karl—’
He stopped her with a single look, shouldering out of his coat and throwing it over the back of a chair. The tiny flat, which had seemed so achingly empty and depressingly sad since Gran had died, was suddenly throbbing with vibrant, restless life. Except for Karl, she had never had a man here. Looking after Gran had been emotionally draining as well as physically taking up all her spare time and energy.
He didn’t even look around the tiny flat as he took off his jacket and loosened his silk tie, his eyes moving over her flushed face and primly attired figure, lingering on the crisply concealing blouse and the lush curve of her hips encased in the tight skirt that ended halfway up her thighs. His nostrils flared as he eased his collar open and saw her gaze follow the movement, her lips parting at the glimpse of the bronzed hollow of his throat.
‘Do you have anything to drink?’
His blunt demand cloaked the crackling sexual tension with a thin veneer of sociability. Nina’s fingers tracked the side seams of her skirt, smoothing it over her hips in an unconsciously seductive gesture.
‘I—I might have some Scotch…’ She knew she did. Towards the end, the smooth liquor was the one small pleasure that Gran had still been able to enjoy, with the added bonus that it helped dull the pain the drugs no longer seemed to ease.
Ryan followed her into the cramped galley kitchen while she fumbled the glasses out of the cupboard, moving up to catch the whisky bottle when it threatened to slip through her trembling hands, then taking over the pouring of two stiff drinks.
‘I—I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’ve got anything to mix with it,’ she said vaguely, finding it difficult to think while he was so close, his lean body angled towards hers, crowding her with intense awareness of his masculinity, the musky scent of him even more potent than the heady aroma of the Scotch.
‘That’s all right, I’m not thirsty anyway,’ he said roughly, shoving the glasses away and spinning her into his arms.
His mouth crashed heavily down on hers, smothering her whimper of relief as the momentum of his body crushed her back against the kitchen wall. Nina’s head angled beneath his as she frantically tried to deepen his savage kisses, her hands tearing at the buttons of his pale grey shirt, pulling it open so that she could lace her fingers through the hair on his chest.
She felt him shudder as she scraped her nails across his skin, his strong hands sliding up the outside of her thighs, working her skirt up around her waist, pushing her panty hose and fragile lace panties out of the way so that he could reach her molten core. His fingers slid against her slippery heat, his knees pushing in between hers to wedge her legs farther apart while he prepared her for his urgent possession—’
‘No!’
Nina’s eyes flew open, her panting cry dying on her lips as she found herself lying on the couch in the house at Puriri Bay, staring up into Ryan’s waiting gaze. The press of his hip as he sat alongside her was all too familiar.
