Elusive Lover. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
that the other woman was spoiling for an argument. Frances didn’t like her, was aware of her husband’s interest in her, and she liked that even less. If only she knew how Erin hated Mike’s attentions, the way he took every opportunity to touch her, the way he crudely made verbal passes at her! The whole thing made her cringe, but Frances seemed to enjoy acting the jealous wife, and took delight in making digs at Erin whenever they were alone together.
Frances looked down her nose at her. ‘I have to take care of the office for a couple of hours. You start the rooms and I’ll catch you up later.’
She knew that meant she was on her own again today, and the thought of cleaning forty rooms single-handed for the second day running made her groan in dismay.
Her resentment burned all the time she was loading the clean linen on to the trolley, wheeling the huge vacuum-cleaner out on to the pathway.
She couldn’t stand much more of this, she just didn’t have the stamina for it. For about the tenth time in as many days she promised herself that tonight she would look through the newspapers for another job, knowing that when the time came she would be too tired and disheartened to bother.
Room twenty-six first; she could be sure that room was empty. Would Joshua Hawke have left any of his personality in the room, or would it just be the impersonal room it had always seemed?
Joshua Hawke again! He meant nothing to her, nothing. How could she possibly miss a person she didn’t even know, a person who had taken a few minutes out of his day to listen to her? She couldn’t. And yet his mocking kindness had stayed with her all during the night, and for once she had slept soundlessly.
The room was in darkness, the curtains having been left drawn, and the smell of alcohol was very strong. Erin’s nose wrinkled with distaste. Joshua Hawke hadn’t just left an imprint of his personality on the room, he had left it in almost as much of a mess as it had been yesterday!
She sighed heavily. So he hadn’t been so different after all, just another man out for a good time. The ‘talk’ he had wanted last night could have been a lot more than that. Thank heavens she had refused.
She moved to the window to pull back the curtains and let in some light, gasping as a hand caught her around the wrist and the rumpled mound of sheets and blankets materialised into a body—a male body.
‘Mr Hawke!’ she gasped.
‘’Morning, sweetheart,’ he smiled up at her, his eyes lazily appreciative, his black hair tousled into disorder. The sheet fell back to his waist as he sat up in the bed, and Erin didn’t need much imagination to know that the rest of him was as naked as that hard-muscled chest!
‘I—Good morning,’ she returned stiltedly. ‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you.’ She looked away from that naked chest and the clear outline of his thighs beneath the sheet.
Heavy lids lowered over teasing green eyes. ‘Honey, this sort of disturbance I like,’ he grinned at her.
Erin wished he wouldn’t smile at her, it gave her a fluttering sensation in her stomach and made her breath catch in her throat. ‘I thought this room was empty,’ she said awkwardly.
‘It is—except for me.’
‘I——’ She suddenly realised he was still holding her wrist, his thumb running over the delicate veins there. When she tried to pull away his grip tightened, pulling her down beside him on the bed. ‘Would you let go of me? Please,’ she added in a pleading tone.
‘In a minute,’ he dismissed, his other hand coming up to slowly trail the fingers down her cheek. He frowned as she flinched. ‘What is it?’ he asked sharply. ‘Did I hurt you?’
He had been infinitely gentle, and he knew it. It was that she no longer trusted herself to be any sort of judge of character. Yesterday she had thought him a nice man who was genuinely interested in her, until he had shown her that his appointment, which by the odour in this room had been with a beer bottle, was more important than listening to the woeful tale of some unknown English girl, and now he had pulled her down on to his bed, in which he was obviously naked.
‘Erin?’ he prompted.
At least he remembered her name! ‘No,’ she moved away from that caressing hand, ‘you didn’t hurt me. I’ll come back when you’ve gone,’ and she stood up, trying to pull her wrist out of his grasp.
He was completely alert now, the last blanket of sleep—or hangover—pushed to the background. ‘Did you eat last night?’ he asked suddenly, refusing to let her go.
He completely threw her with the unexpectedness of the question. ‘No,’ she answered huskily.
His face darkened with anger. ‘Why?’
‘I—I forgot.’
‘You forgot!’ he repeated in disgust. ‘How can you forget to eat?’
Erin moved uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know how, I just do it all the time.’
He gave an angry sigh. ‘Because you’re too damn tired to think straight. What time did you finish here last night?’
‘About six-thirty.’
‘Plenty of time for you to have met me for dinner.’
Her nose wrinkled. ‘I’d rather have no dinner at all than one that consisted mainly of beer.’
For a moment Joshua Hawke looked incredulous, then his eyes glittered with anger. ‘You little——!’ He broke off, pulling her roughly down beside him to bend over her, his mouth coming down savagely on hers.
Erin was shocked into acquiescence, lying quietly beneath him as he plundered her mouth with ruthless insistence, holding her arms at her sides as she began to fight him. She was suffocating, unable to breathe, and her frightened groans of distress finally seemed to reach him as he lifted his head to look down at her.
She couldn’t have known the vulnerable figure she looked, with her wide frightened eyes and trembling lower lip. Joshua Hawke’s expression softened as he looked down at her. ‘Your accusations were unfounded, little one,’ he said softly. ‘But I don’t think you deserved that,’ he touched her slightly swollen lips. ‘Do you accept my apology?’
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. ‘I—I——’
‘You’re babbling again,’ he taunted.
Her eyes flashed. ‘Of course I’m babbling!’ She pushed against him, the warmth of his skin seeming to burn her hand, bringing her to an awareness of the fact that only a thin cotton sheet separated her from his nakedness. She sat up, scrambling hastily off the bed. ‘You shouldn’t have kissed me,’ she accused.
He leant back against the headboard. ‘I agree, I shouldn’t. But then you shouldn’t have accused me of having a drinking dinner. I had a couple of beers with some friends of mine, but I certainly wasn’t drunk.’
‘No?’ She picked a pair of crumpled denims up from the floor, giving him a pointed look before putting them on the chair.
‘Don’t do that!’ He threw back the sheet and got out of bed, wearing a pair of navy blue briefs, his legs as tanned as the rest of him. He put the denims back on the floor. ‘They happen to reek of beer.’ He unzipped the holdall and pulled out another pair of denims.
Erin looked down at the floor, never having seen a man almost naked before, especially one who was so unconcerned by the fact. She daren’t look up, her embarrassment was so acute.
‘And it wasn’t beer I intended drinking.’ He pulled on the denims and zipped them up. ‘Dave tipped a whole glassful of his beer over me—accidentally. You can look up now,’ he drawled mockingly.
She looked up and then