Hotbed of Scandal: Mistress: At What Price? / Red Wine and Her Sexy Ex / Bedded by Blackmail. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.
minutes later. Chocolate always soothed troubled waters. She didn’t want to interrupt or distract, so she’d put them on a plate, set it on the table and leave. She stole barefooted downstairs.
Male voices floated up the stairwell as she descended. ‘You think you and Mariel might get—?’
‘No.’
Mariel froze on the step at the categorical denial, fingers tightening on the smooth, worn banister.
‘She wants to play happy families some day. Big old house, kids of her own.’
She’d always known he was going to end it, but to hear it spoken of in that detached and decisive way cut to her core like broken glass.
‘Kids were never big in our family,’ she heard Daniel say.
‘We’re not family,’ Dane shot back. ‘Being biologically related doesn’t make a family.’
Well, at least Dane understood that much, Mariel thought. But she didn’t want to hear any more. She climbed the stairs back to her room. Closed the door and lay down to wait for the afternoon to be over.
Chapter Ten
JUST on dark, Dane switched off the ignition. He had to admit it hadn’t gone as badly with his father as he’d first thought. He climbed out of his car, but came to a halt at the garage door.
Mariel sat by the pool in the mellow circle of light. Right at home in the spotlight, he mused. Her long lashes rested on those fabulous cheekbones; her hair flowed over her shoulders in a stream of sable. At some point the sun had kissed the exposed skin of her shoulders and turned them rosy—strawberries and cream.
His mouth watered. One taste. Just one…
She’d probably still be mad with him. But she didn’t look angry. She looked sexy. His blood heated at thinking about it, rolling and heaving through him like the restless summer thunder over the hills in the distance.
She moved, dipping her feet into the water, sending ripples across its smooth surface. A strange sensation hooked at his chest, snagging the breath in his throat and momentarily rooting him to the spot.
Growing up, she’d always been his port in a storm, keeper of his secrets. His best friend.
Now they were having an affair.
Nothing permanent, he reminded himself, watching her lean on her arms and tilt her head back so that her breasts thrust upward as if in invitation. A primal growl threatened to erupt, but he fought it down for another moment to watch her—she was so rarely still.
He walked towards her. ‘Hi.’
Her head turned slowly towards him. ‘So you’ve finally decided to come home.’
‘I helped Dad fix a sticky door.’
Her lips softened into a smile. ‘That’s good. That’s great.’
His bare feet made no sound as he crossed the pool surround. He stood a metre away, breathing her in, watching the rise and fall of her breasts, her nipples tight little buds against the buttercup fabric. Arousal, he knew. Just as he knew that if he bent down and touched the inside of her wrist he’d find her pulse as rapid.
‘Shall I tell you what you’re thinking?’ he said.
She blinked once at him, but didn’t answer right away. Finally she said, ‘I’d rather you show me.’ She tilted her head, and an echo of her thoughts lingered on her curved lips like honey.
The urge to drink that sweet temptation from her mouth consumed him. ‘I thought you might still be mad. I take it from your response that you’re not.’
‘It’s a waste of time holding on to anger, don’t you think?’ Dreamy emerald eyes stared up at him. ‘I’d rather make love than war.’
He sat down on the deck beside her, picked up her hand, grazing his thumb over her fingers. ‘Wise thoughts.’ He brought her hand to his lips before setting it on her thigh and releasing her, then leaned back on his elbows.
His touch seemed to set off an explosion of energy. She pushed up. Dane made to follow suit, but Mariel’s bare foot in the middle of his chest prevented him. He could see her eyes clearly. Green and direct and aroused.
She wiggled her toes against his shirt. ‘Make mad passionate love with me. Right here, right now.’
‘Okay…’ He admired the view of Mariel from this unique angle and said with a quirk, ‘But it looks like you have the upper hand at this moment.’ He scraped a fingernail under the erotic arch of her foot.
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