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The Unexpected Child. Kate WalkerЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Unexpected Child - Kate Walker


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Nat—with those big doe’s eyes and that innocent face...’ A soft thumb brushed the fullness of her mouth. ‘You’re so very different.’

      Suddenly he frowned, making her heart lurch in apprehension. In spite of the fact that he wasn’t even touching her now, she felt trapped, held transfixed, like a rabbit petrified by the headlights of an oncoming car.

      And like that terrified rabbit she knew instinctively that her situation was filled with danger, that by staying still she was risking pain and destruction for herself. She had to do something to stop this.

      But even as her mind recognised that fact and screamed frantic instructions to her limbs to run to safety it was as if the fear itself had paralysed her and she couldn’t move an inch.

      ‘But I don’t like the way you’ve started to do your hair,’ Pierce murmured, gesturing towards the neat coil with undisguised scorn. ‘It’s too tight—too controlled. You look like a schoolmistress.’

      ‘I am a schoolmistress.’

      ‘Not now—not at this time of night. Now you’re off duty, and so—’

      Before she could realise what he had in mind, he had moved swiftly, his hands going unerringly to the pins that held the long, dark swathe of her hair confined at the back of her head. With two confident tugs he freed them, smiling with disturbingly sensual satisfaction as the ebony mane tumbled round her neck in waving disarray.

      ‘Much better,’ he declared, and then, to her complete consternation, he combed his fingers gently through the tumbled strands, smoothing them onto her shoulders with a touch so soft and gentle that it was all she could do not to close her eyes in languorous response, her lips parting to shape a murmur of delight that she only just choked back in time, realising it had been in the form of his name.

      ‘Now you look positively kissable—in fact—’

      ‘No!’ Natalie cut in swiftly, suddenly afraid to hear more. The bitter irony of the situation struck home like a poisoned knife with the thought that years ago, even just a month or two before, she would actually have welcomed the sort of things he was saying—or, at least, the things she thought he was saying. Because the way he spoke was so darkly sardonic, those brilliant blue eyes holding no degree of warmth, that she couldn’t be absolutely sure. But now, even if he did mean them, it was far too late. He was committed to another woman, and all his compliments should go to her.

      ‘Pierce.’ She tried hard to make it sound firmly determined but didn’t succeed very well. ‘You can’t say things like that when you don’t mean them.’

      ‘And how do you know what I mean and what I don’t? Have you suddenly become telepathic, so that you can see into my mind?’

      The faint downward movement of his dark head was positively the last straw, bringing with it a bitter memory of the one and only time he had ever kissed her. The image sliced into the trance that held her still, shattering it with the realisation of the way she was tempting fate by not resisting.

      ‘And what would your fiancée think about that?’

      She made her voice as cool and crisp as she could but was a prey to distinctly ambiguous feelings as she saw the effect her words had, freezing that downward movement instantly, Pierce’s eyes becoming suddenly hooded and withdrawn.

      ‘I understand that congratulations are in order.’

      From the way his face changed she knew that she had had the effect that she wanted—or, rather, the result that she had aimed for. What she had wanted was very, very different, and only now, with the possibility—or did she mean the threat?—that he might kiss her clearly averted, did she realise just how much she had wanted that caress, wanted it so desperately that the ache of loss that tormented her now made her clench her fingers into tight fists, nails digging into the palms of her hands.

      ‘I’d forgotten how quickly the village gossip grapevine work.’

      ‘So it’s true.’

      ‘Yeah, it’s true.’ Pierce’s voice was strangely flat. ‘I proposed to Phillippa a couple of months ago and she said yes straight away.’

      I’ll bet she did, Natalie thought, the taste of jealousy like bitter acid in her mouth. No woman with red blood in her veins would turn down Pierce Donellan, even if he didn’t come with the added attraction of a private fortune—one that he had personally doubled over the last ten years or so as a result of the brilliant business acumen that had made his computer software company a major force to be reckoned with.

      ‘So what are you doing here? Why aren’t you with her?’

      Why had he strolled back into her life, destroying the sort of acceptance she had achieved?

      ‘A little tricky,’ Pierce murmured sardonically, ‘seeing as she’s off on holiday—a Mediterranean cruise.’

      ‘A cruise?’

      It seemed a strange thing for a newly engaged woman to do. If Pierce had asked her to marry him, there was no way she would have left his side unless she absolutely had to.

      ‘It was all arranged before we got engaged. She’d promised to go with her cousin.’

      Something about his voice, the total lack of expression in his face heightened Natalie’s conviction that something was wrong, that he hadn’t just come here on the off chance as he’d said.

      ‘Pierce—why have you come here tonight?’

      Broad shoulders under the supple leather lifted in an indifferent shrug.

      ‘To see a friendly face—totalk.’

      ‘About what?’

      The change in his eyes worried her.

      ‘Tell me,’ she insisted. ‘What did you want to talk about?’

      For a long, taut moment he considered the question, the blue gaze strangely dull and unfocused. Then at last he seemed to come to a decision.

      ‘About Phillippa,’ he said, his voice harsh and raw.

      ‘About my fiancée—or, rather, ex-fiancée, seeing as she’s dumped me.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘SHE’S—?’

      Natalie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had to have it all wrong—he must have said something else.

      ‘Phillippa—she—? But I don’t understand.’

      ‘My fiancée has dumped me—broken off our engagement. To put it bluntly, she no longer wants to marry me,’ Pierce explained with exaggerated patience.

      ‘Oh, not that! I understand what you’re saying—but why?’

      How could anyone in their right mind, having once accepted Pierce’s proposal, be fool enough to change her mind?

      ‘She’s found someone else.’ The bitterness in the declaration made her wince painfully. ‘Someone she met on the cruise—she prefers him.’

      ‘Oh, Pierce...’

      Impulsively Natalie took a step towards him, the instinct to comfort overwhelming, but she froze immediately, seeing the way he stiffened, his face closing up, warning her to stay away.

      ‘How about that coffee?’ he prompted.

      ‘Oh, yes.’

      She was glad to move away, into the kitchen, grateful for the chance to hide the pain she knew must show in her eyes. There was no way she could conceal it; just for that second she didn’t have the strength to hold it back. The very matter-of-factness of his tone had told her only too plainly that he didn’t want her sympathy, her concern. If he had slapped her hard in the face he couldn’t have got the message across more clearly or more painfully. But she couldn’t just leave it...

      She


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