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Secret Passion. Кэрол МортимерЧитать онлайн книгу.

Secret Passion - Кэрол Мортимер


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didn’t touch her, where she saw only good in everything, because to see things any other way would be to see reality. It had been like this since Aura’s father died.

      Her mother had never been a forceful personality, but the death of the man she loved had somehow pushed her into a world where she took responsibility for nothing, and where no one expected her to do so. When she wasn’t watching the childishly uncomplicated programmes on television she would just sit and daydream, and from the faraway tranquility of her expression when she did that Aura guessed her thoughts were as childishly unfettered by reality.

      Shock, the doctors had diagnosed her condition, at the sudden death of Aura’s father. They had all predicted she would as quickly recover from the shock, that it was something that occasioanlly happened to the deeply grief-stricken. They had been wrong, and despite constant counselling, her mother still lived in that state where she knew the man she loved had gone, but where she preferred to think he had just briefly left their lives.

      At times Aura felt her father’s loss so acutely she wanted to share her own pain with her mother, but as time passed and her mother continued to live in her world without pain the doctors had feared that the sudden jolt into awareness could result in permanent damage. Sometimes, as Aura watched her dreamily vague mother, she wondered if it weren’t already too late to do anything to help her.

      Once she had changed into peach cotton trousers and a brown blouse, she went down to the kitchen, her mother, as she had predicted, still watching the television, having switched off the news in favour of a nature programme.

      Aura didn’t know how her mother would react to the move if they had to make one. She didn’t seem aware of her surroundings most of the time, had made no comment when they moved here two years ago, and yet this flat was part of her mother’s security.

      Her mother’s distracted, ‘I could have done it, dear,’ as they sat down to the dinner Aura had prepared, made her smile sadly.

      Her mother had never been a forceful person, had always been content to go along with the will of the majority rather than argue her own point of view, but Aura did remember her as a woman whose complete happiness enveloped all around her; the way she was now, neither happiness nor despair touched her. It was heartbreaking for Aura to witness.

      The fact that Adrian, when he had called for her here, had been unfailingly kind to her mother had only made her like him more; now she was sure that kindness had just been another part of his plan to persuade her into a deeper relationship with him.

      Her sudden loss of appetite was due solely to Adrian Mayhew and what he was trying to do to her, and she refused her mother’s offer of helping her clear away, needing to be alone to try to work out what she would do if James Ballantine refused to reconsider renewing her lease. She would have to look for another property if that happened, and she wearily thought of the time it would take to find somewhere that was suitable. Why didn’t—who was her mother talking to? Oh God, she hadn’t started talking to herself too, had she!

      Aura was hastily wiping her hands dry as she rushed into the lounge, entering the room just in time to see her mother inviting James Ballantine into the flat.

      He looked over the top of her mother’s head at her flushed and dishevelled appearance, frowning at her suddenly fierce glare. ‘If I’ve called at an inconvenient time …?’

      Any time would be inconvenient with him looking like that!

      He ought to have a ‘Danger’ warning sewn onto the waistband of the faded denims he wore; the way they clung to his hips and thighs was positively indecent. He had no right to reveal how broad his chest was in the dark green shirt and black leather jacket, and he certainly had no right to have his hair falling rakishly over his forehead like that, ruffled by the gentle breeze outside!

      Aura realised she had stopped breathing as soon as she saw him only because her starved lungs suddenly demanded air, her ragged breath audible as her mother moved to turn down the volume on the television set.

      ‘Not at all—Mr Ballantine, wasn’t it?’ Her mother gave him one of her vague smiles. ‘Aura has just finished clearing away. And I——’

      ‘Mummy,’ she warned as her mother picked up a book that lay open on the sofa.

      ‘—was just off to my room,’ she finished serenely as if Aura hadn’t spoken, dazzling James Balantine with another of her beautiful smiles before going up the stairs.

      James Ballantine watched her go with vaguely disturbed eyes. ‘She’s very lovely,’ he said suddenly.

      ‘Yes,’ Aura snapped, suddenly in control again. OK, so out of the dark suit he had worn earlier today and wearing casual denims and a leather jacket instead, he looked devastating; that was no reason to forget that this man had to be here for a purpose, and she had to know what that purpose was. ‘Have you come to tell me——’

      ‘She seems a little—not quite of this world.’ He still gazed after her mother.

      ‘Yes,’ she bit out tautly. ‘Now would you——’

      ‘But so very beautiful,’ he said again dazedly, as if completely mesmerised.

      ‘Mr Ballantine——’

      ‘James,’ he corrected gruffly, crossing the room to her side in two strides. ‘Don’t expect me to be coherent when I’ve just seen what you’re going to look like in twenty years’ time,’ he murmured softly. ‘Aura …!’

      She didn’t have time to prevent the contact as his head bent to hers and the mouth that she had classed as sensual on sight took possession of her. That was the only way to describe what happened to her, James not just claiming her mouth but branding the whole of her body with his touch.

      One hand curved about her nape while the other one held her tightly about the hips, making her aware of the difference in their heights as the hardness of his thighs was crushed against her stomach, stirring a strange emotion there while the hand at her nape offered her mouth up to his like a sacrifice. Like a starving man he took and took, and still he hadn’t taken his fill. Not that Aura didn’t take too, standing on bare tip-toes to entangle her hands in the thickness of his hair as she matched the hunger.

      She looked up at him with dazed eyes as he slowly put her back down on the carpeted floor, wondering how she had ever thought him unapproachable, his emotions held firmly in check; there was no mistaking the hunger displayed in his eyes—and it was all directed towards her!

      She stepped back, swallowing hard. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’ She should have sounded firmer and not quite so breathless! He shouldn’t have done that, had left her weak and dazed.

      ‘I’m going to do it again in a moment,’ he promised throatily. ‘But before I do we had better get business out of the way; I don’t think either of us will be capable of discussing it later on!’ he added ruefully.

      She held up protesting hands. ‘What happened between us——’

      ‘Happens every time I look at you,’ he admitted softly, dark green eyes devouring her parted lips as his gaze rested upon them. ‘I want you.’

      Aura was speechless. Men just didn’t say things like that, so bluntly it made her blush. They flattered, and cajoled, and coerced, they didn’t tempt. And that last description fitted exactly what James was doing to her, only having to look at him to feel a leap of her senses. But the first three exactly described what Adrian had tried to do to her.

      Her mouth tightened at the thought of the other man. ‘You said you came here to discuss business,’ she prompted abruptly.

      ‘To start with,’ he drawled, reaching into the inside breast pocket of his jacket to hand her the envelope he had removed. ‘Your lease,’ he explained at her questioning look. ‘All it needs is your signature, duly witnessed, of course.’

      Aura gaped at him, sure she couldn’t have heard him correctly, quickly opening the envelope to stare


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