AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She rounded the last bend before the house, and stopped with a groan. Harvey was sitting on the verge, whimpering, one paw held pathetically in the air.
‘Oh, Harv!’ She crouched beside him. ‘What have you done to yourself?’ She took the paw, and tried to examine it. There was no obvious wound, but she didn’t know what to look for, and Harvey, as if sensing her uncertainty, yelped, then growled softly.
‘I can’t carry you—you’re too heavy,’ she told him, straightening. She walked slowly, and he limped beside her through the gate on to the drive.
And there, in front of the house, was Malory’s car. Amanda stopped short, aware that she had flushed suddenly, and that her heart seemed to be beating twice as fast as normal.
It was shock, she told herself defensively. After all, he hadn’t been expected back until tomorrow.
At that moment, Malory appeared in the doorway. He was still in the dark formality of his business clothes, and he looked tired, Amanda thought, breaking into a little run.
She said breathlessly, ‘Malory—I’m so glad you’re home!’
His brows lifted, and he managed a shadow of a grin. I’m deeply flattered. What’s brought this about?‘
‘It’s Harvey,’ she said. ‘He’s got something wrong with his paw. Will you have a look, or shall I call the vet?’
His smile faded. ‘I’ll see to him.’ He squatted on his haunches, persuading the spaniel, without difficulty, to roll over on his back. Amanda joined them, kneeling on the damp gravel.
She watched the long deft fingers probing gently in a way she wouldn’t have dared emulate. Malory talked to the dog softly, his blue eyes intent as he bent over him.
He needed a shave, Amanda thought, her own gaze fixed almost obsessively on his face. There was a shadow of stubble along his jawline. She found herself wanting to rub her fingers along the faint roughness of his skin and smooth away the lines of tension beside his mouth. It was a very long time since the one and only occasion he’d kissed her, but she could remember how his lips had felt on her own, and the totally male scent of his skin. She could breathe it now, she thought wonderingly, or was it her mind playing tricks?
He said with quiet triumph, ‘There’ and showed her the long thorn he’d just extracted from Harvey’s pad.
‘I couldn’t see a thing.’ She was glad that bending over the dog gave her an excuse for her hectically heightened colour.
‘He often picks things up like that’ he said. ‘And he’s a terrible hypochondriac. I bet he limps for a week.’ He rose lithely. ‘And he seems to have been rolling in something iffy, too. Maybe you could sweet-talk George into giving him a bath, while I get out of this damned suit.’ He gave her a swift, perfunctory smile and went into the house.
Amanda watched him go, then walked Harvey round to the back door, where George cheerfully took charge of him.
She tugged off her muddy boots and left them next to the cupboard in the rear passage. She made herself move slowly and deliberately, feeling every pulse-beat echo through her being like the slam of a sledge hammer. She could think of nothing but the weariness in Malory’s face and the way his smile had died when he realised her welcome had strings.
Her stockinged feet made no sound on the stairs, nor along the carpeted landing.
His bedroom door was open, but the room seemed deserted. For a moment, she was frozen with disappointment, then he came out of the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel. He’d discarded his jacket, waistcoat and tie, and his hair was ruffled. He stopped when he saw her, his brows lifting in surprise.
‘More problems?’ he asked with a kind of resignation. ‘Won’t they keep?’
She shook her head. She supposed she should say something, but no words would come—at least, none that meant anything.
She went to him, standing on tiptoe to slide her arms round his neck, drawing down his head so she could kiss his unsmiling mouth.
He was so still, he could have been carved from rock, and for one terrible minute she thought he was going to reject her. Then his arms went fiercely round her, pulling her against him so roughly that her body felt jarred, and he was kissing her, his mouth parting hers to receive the urgent thrust of his tongue.
Amanda was trembling under the onslaught, but she was exhilarated, too. That iron guard of his was down, and he was holding her as if he could not get her close enough, his lips searching hers, extracting every last sweet secret. His hand twisted in her chestnut hair, pulling her head back so he could kiss her throat above the collar of her cashmere sweater. A sound escaped her, half startled, half excited, as his other hand cupped her breast through the fine wool, his fingers teasing her hardening nipple.
