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Jaye’s arm steadied her. And then she was in his arms. She felt his lips against hers and almost cried out. He kissed her again, and this time it was like liquid fire running through her veins, making her knees shake.
‘You fulfil your duties very well, my lord.’
‘I find it deliciously easy, my lady...’ The pressure of his arm around her waist loosened. There was a way back if she chose to take it. But Megan didn’t want to.
* * *
They were just play-acting, weren’t they? Fooling around in a secret tunnel, like he had when he’d been a child.
But his blood was thundering through his veins. And the last time he’d been down here, fooling around, had merely consisted of lighting a few candles and sharing a chocolate bar with his friends, then creeping back to his bed, his pyjamas flapping wetly around his ankles.
When he let Megan go, she grabbed his shirt, pulling him back close. As his body touched hers, she gave a little sigh.
‘Jaye...’
When she whispered his name, it was an expression of the need that he felt too. And he needed so badly to touch her skin.
Jaye pulled the neck of his jacket to one side, wondering whether she’d stop him. As he ran his fingers across the bare skin of her neck, she gasped, stretching up against him for another kiss. Blindly, lost in a passion that robbed him of every restraint, he slid the jacket off her shoulders and down to her elbows.
She let out a gasp of approval as he bunched the fabric between his fingers, pinning her arms loosely at her sides and brushing his lips against her forehead.
‘That’s good. Jaye...’
He couldn’t resist. Imprisoning her tightly, he kissed her again. Megan’s response was immediate, kissing him back with an almost savage passion that left him reeling.
As soon as he released his grip, she put her arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. He held her tightly against his chest, wondering what he could ever have done to deserve this second chance.
‘This... It’s not right...’ Megan deserved more than this dank, draughty tunnel. She deserved candlelight and soft sheets. Maybe a hot bath, to make her feel good, before he made love to her.
He could hardly breathe. Asking her back to his bed seemed like the biggest risk he’d ever taken.
‘No, it’s not...’ He felt her body pulling slowly away from his. ‘You’re my boss and...it’s too complicated.’
That wasn’t what he’d meant. But suddenly it seemed undeniably true. He pulled his jacket up around her shoulders, wrapping it around her.
He’d thought that Megan was so different. She’d seen past the privilege of his background, and that had blinded him to the one thing that was staring him right in the face. He was her boss, and she couldn’t see past that. She never would, her father had seen to that.
And this was no misunderstanding. It wasn’t right for either of them.
Jaye took her hand, brushing his lips against the backs of her fingers. ‘I’ll take you back. Tonight never happened.’
‘Thank you.’ Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry that...it couldn’t.’
So was Jaye. But he was beginning to feel as if he’d had a lucky escape.
He took her hand, leading her back out of the tunnel and through the basement to the kitchen. She took off the wellington books, stowing them carefully back into the cupboard under the stairs and slipping her shoes back on. Then she took his jacket off, carefully hanging it over the back of one of the chairs around the kitchen table, her hand smoothing the creases he’d made when he’d pulled her close and kissed her.
‘I can find my way from here.’ Clearly she didn’t want the indignity of being spotted with her boss at one in the morning. Anger surged through Jaye’s heart. Why couldn’t she see that he was different from her father?
‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ His words were a little more abrupt than he’d meant them to be and he struggled to smile at her. This was for the best, and the least he could do was be civil about it. ‘Goodnight. Sleep well.’
‘Thank you. You too.’ Megan turned and walked away from him.
* * *
Megan didn’t dare to go down to breakfast, making do with an oat bar she’d found at the bottom of her handbag and a glass of water. She packed her things, and sat down to write a note.
Everyone was leaving this morning, and she wondered whether it would be more inconspicuous to go with a group of the others or to walk across the entrance hall alone. Deciding that going it alone had the advantage of allowing her to make a dash for it, she crept downstairs into the quiet entrance hall.
