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Relief flooded through him. She was not likely to confuse the two of them again. He really hated the idea of being taken for someone else, especially when the someone else was a double-dealing rat.
They’d already walked beyond the grounds of the health farm and were heading down the road towards the village. Matt noted that the stars were very bright, no pollution to dim them out here in the country. The crisp air was invigorating. Getting drunk did not seem such a good idea anymore. Maybe there was a chance with Peta Kelly after all. If she could put the other guy behind her.
“Do you still love him?”
“No.” Very emphatic. “He didn’t love me. He enjoyed having me.”
Disillusionment. It was a killer all right. At least she was seeing straight on the Latin lover. Not that Matt could blame the guy for wanting her. He himself had taken one look and...no doubt about it, he would enjoy having her. The question was...would she enjoy having him?
She’d stopped using him as a whipping boy. Her apology and confession surely meant she cared about his opinion of her. Or it could mean only that she didn’t like herself for having stuck the knife in where it wasn’t deserved. Best not to assume too much. She was trudging along beside him, head down, immersed in thoughts that probably had nothing to do with him.
They were approaching the outskirts of the village. Matt found himself riven with uncertainty, which was not a feeling he liked. Would she slap him down if he asked her to have a drink with him in the pub? Nothing risked, nothing gained, he told himself. Besides, now he understood where she was coming from, his pride could take another knock.
He was about to open his mouth when her steps faltered to a halt. Her head lifted and jerked around as though she’d lost her bearings and needed to find them again. She stared at the streetlight up ahead then swung her face towards him. Her eyes glittered, but not with derision. Matt recognised the shiny wetness of tears, barely held in check.
“I’ll go back now,” she said huskily. “Thank you for... for listening to me.”
“It’s okay,” he said, instinctively comforting. But damn it! It wasn’t okay. He didn’t want her swimming in a sea of misery over the bastard who’d deceived her. It wasn’t the end of her dreams. She was so gut-achingly beautiful, desirable, her lips slightly atremble...
His heart kicked and civilised man disappeared under a rush of blood to his head. His whole body sprang alive with primitive urges as he stepped forward, wrapped Peta Kelly in his arms, and kissed her, kissed her with mind-pounding passion, wanting to wipe out the Latin lover from her life, wanting to stamp his own imprint on her, wanting a million things he couldn’t stop to think about but she pulsed at the core of them.
Peta didn’t know how it had happened. Her body was crushed against his, and his mouth was hotly bent on invading hers, and her head was whirling, the black depression that had settled in her mind attacked by a buzz of sensations, compelling her to do nothing but feel what he was doing to her.
Then his tongue was tangling with hers, tingling over her palate, firing a wild eroticism that pulled her into responding, angrily at first because he was taking without her consent, but curiosity and the sudden surge of need to experience him drove her into plundering his mouth with all the passionate energy of wanting hurts to be salved, dreams to be restored, self-esteem mended.
And the power of the kiss streamed through her, healing, exciting, exhilarating, making her feel like a whole woman again, brilliantly, exultantly alive and pulsing with the pleasure of it. The cold, bleak sense of being alone and adrift was swept away in a tide of heat. She smouldered, burned and melted when a hand closed over her breast, gently kneading her inflamed flesh, a thumb brushing her nipple, making it extend, stiffen, beg for more attention.
Without any conscious realisation of what it was doing, her body sought the satisfaction of feeling his arousal, pressing closer, going up on tiptoe to cradle the thick, enticing bulge where it was needed. His mouth eased from hers and a groan swam into her ears as he adjusted his stance. It was not until he moved against her, actively accommodating what she had blindly initiated, that Peta came to her senses.
Shock slammed through her mind. She was encouraging an intimate connection with a man she barely knew, revelling in his kisses, his touch, his...manliness! Her hands were gripping his head and neck, fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to what he’d started, pressing for more. She’d lost all cognition of time, place, and circumstance.
Her heart kicked with fright at what she had unwittingly done. Her hands scrambled down to grasp hard, muscle-bound shoulders. She jerked her head back to disarm another lethal kiss and pushed some breathing distance between them.
“Stop,” she gasped.
It jolted him into looking at her, though he seemed to have difficulty in focusing his eyes. The message was slow in filtering through his system but it did reach him. The hand on her breast suddenly stilled. His lower body straightened, easing back from hers.
“It’s okay,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t set out to...umh...get in your pants.” He plucked his hand from her breast. “You didn’t say anything about your sweater.”
“No. I...” She didn’t know what to say, how to explain herself. She swallowed hard, feeling hopelessly choked up.
“It’s okay,” he asserted more strongly. His mouth started stretching into a smile. “It’s fine. Great. Bloody marvellous!” The smile widened to a dazzling grin. “Let’s get married.”
“What?” she gasped.
“Married,” he repeated with deep relish. “Pity we’re not in Las Vegas. We could do it tonight.”
“Are you mad?” Peta squeaked.
“Never been saner in my life.”
“Just to get in my pants?” Her voice reached a higher register.
“Nope. Going to have four kids, too.”
Peta stared at him, completely dumbfounded. He bent and scooped their gloves off the ground where they had somehow dropped. Then he took her limp hand, threading his fingers through hers and gently squeezing his strength into them.
“Come on. We’ll unwind over a drink at the pub and make whatever plans you’d like for the wedding.”
