Marriage in Name Only?. Anne OliverЧитать онлайн книгу.
He smoothed his thumb over the delicate skin at her wrist, felt her rapid pulse thrumming in time with his own. ‘I want a chance to explain about earlier.’
She shook her head but left her hand in his, confusing him further. ‘Why?’ Dark eyes skewered into his. ‘It wasn’t as if it was memorable or anything.’
That brought a smile to his lips. ‘You enjoyed it as much as I did.’ He couldn’t resist; he shifted closer, smelled leather and spice and warm woman.
She didn’t back away and he heard the tiny hitch in her breath, saw the flare of heat in her eyes even as she said, ‘You really are an arrogant piece of w—’
‘Ring Dana. If anything happens …’
‘Nothing’s going to happen.’ She withdrew her hand and pointed up the street. ‘See that neon sign? I’m going to sit down in there in the nice bright public light where there are people and eat a burger.’ Then she pulled on her helmet.
He watched her shapely black-clad legs, the curve of her backside as she climbed onto her scooter, and his groin hardened at the mental image of her astride him, thighs clenched around his hips, her head thrown back in passion as she tangled her fingers in her own hair and shouted his name. His blood simmered and smoked in his veins. I could give you the ride of your life.
She didn’t so much as glance his way before she zoomed off. Which was probably a good thing.
But it was a clear invitation and he jumped into his car and followed. The evening might not end so badly after all.
CHAPTER TWO
JORDAN GAVE HER a few moments to order and waited until she’d taken up residence at a table before following her inside. She was munching on a burger by the time he sat down opposite her with his own and a side order of fries.
He slid a foam cup in front of her. ‘I didn’t know what you like. Most people like cappuccino.’
‘Not at ridiculous o’clock in the morning if you want a decent night’s sleep,’ she said around a mouthful of bun. ‘But thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘So are you a movie star or something? On one of those Aussie soaps? I’ve been out of the country for eight years. I’m not up on the latest celebrities.’
Obviously fame didn’t impress her, which made for a refreshing change. ‘I’m in the mining industry.’
She studied him curiously. ‘Why did you think I’d know you, then?’
He shrugged, wishing he’d never made the accusation in the first place. Except he wouldn’t have been sitting here sharing burgers with her if he hadn’t. ‘The company’s had some publicity over the past couple of years.’ Which he didn’t want to go into. ‘What I said … What I did …’ He was unwrapping his snack but paused. ‘I apologise. I was out of line. And you’re right, it was rude and arrogant.’
‘Something we can agree on.’ She arched a slim brow. ‘Do you make a habit of kissing random women?’
‘Only beautiful ones who fall into my lap at birthday parties. About that—I’m hoping we can do it again sometime.’
She blinked, her burger halfway to her mouth. ‘My sixty seconds of fame. I’m not likely to be repeating that any time soon.’
But he knew she knew exactly what he meant. As he watched her cheeks turned pink, her eyes darkened and met his for a few unguarded seconds before she reached for her coffee. She took a sip, leaving a tempting fleck of foam on her upper lip.
‘I didn’t know you filled in at the last minute until Zahira told me,’ he went on. ‘That was a pretty game stunt you pulled. I’m ashamed to say, I’d have had second thoughts about the safety of that rope myself.’
‘Yes, well, that’s me. Always up for a challenge.’ She licked the foam off with the tip of her tongue and said, ‘Apology accepted, by the way. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you follow me home.’
‘You don’t need to worry.’ No matter how he’d have preferred to end the evening.
She nodded. ‘Thanks.’
‘Eight years is a long time to be away.’ She only looked around twenty. ‘How old were you when you left?’
‘Nineteen. I’m an adventureholic, couldn’t wait to leave.’ She snaffled one of his fries. ‘The freedom and independence. No one telling you what to do. No one to tell you you’re doing it wrong.’ Her voice turned sombre and the light faded from her eyes.
A man? he wondered. And things hadn’t ended well. ‘So what brought you back?’ Or chased you away.
She chewed a moment, studying the table. When she looked up again, she was smiling, but she didn’t fool him for a second. ‘Family,’ she said brightly, mask in place. ‘You know how it is.’ A haunted desperation flickered in her eyes before she looked away again, fingers tense around her bun.
Yes, he thought, those same emotions running through him, he knew how it was to owe family, but his bet was still on the man. He waited until she met his gaze once more then murmured, ‘What did he do to you?’
Colour drained from her cheeks. ‘Who?’
‘The guy who put those clouds in your eyes.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about—there’s no guy, I was talking about my family.’
He nodded slowly. ‘They’re glad to have you back, then? Your family?’
‘They live in Sydney.’ Biting her bottom lip, she rewrapped the remains of her meal in record time, screwed it up and stood. ‘I have to go.’
‘Hang on.’ He stood too. ‘Can I see you again?’
‘I don’t think so.’ She swung her backpack onto her shoulders, swiped up her helmet. Cool, guarded eyes met his. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’ Her tone was reasonable enough but the message was clear and final. A one-eighty-degree turnaround from the vibes he’d felt earlier in the evening when she’d swung down towards him.
Fine. He didn’t need the complication in his life right now, anyway. ‘You’re welcome, and ride safely.’
He resumed his seat, studying her through the windows as she walked into the damp night, her blonde hair washed moon-pale beneath the car park’s lighting. What was her story? She’d said she’d come back for family but hadn’t caught up with them? She’d tripped over her tongue with that one and hadn’t been able to get away from him fast enough.
Nope. She could deny it all she wanted—only a love gone wrong would elicit that lost-soul response he’d seen in her Scotch-coloured eyes.
And he ought to know.
His gaze lingered on her a moment more, then he turned away. She worked for Dana; she’d be easy to find. Tonight he had more important things on his mind than casual sex and other people’s problems.
Such as how he was going to sweet-talk Sheikh Qasim bin Omar Al-Zeid into buying his gold.
Jordan’s mother had inherited the majority shares in Rivergold when his father had died, and she’d nearly bankrupted the company—his father’s love and life’s work. Jordan had finally bought her out with the trust fund he’d inherited on his thirtieth birthday, but it had taken him two years of solid work and little sleep to bring it up to anything approaching its former glory.
His fingers automatically felt for the leather thong beneath his shirt. And he was back in time to eight years ago and he could see his dad lying on his office floor, barely breathing when Jordan had found him. He’d not been there in time because he’d been too busy heating up the sheets with a fellow student when his elderly father had