Secret Affairs: The End of Faking It / Her Secret Fling / The Ultimate Risk. Natalie AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
I get out of it? What are you going to offer me?’
Her lashes lifted and the black pools glittered at him. ‘You want me so much you’d sell yourself like some sort of escort?’
He was glad to hear her vixen tongue again and he leaned forward to reward her, whispering so close his lips brushed her ear. ‘You have to agree that we kiss like nothing else. I’m very interested to see what it’d be like if we did something more.’
‘If you wanted something more then why did you walk out so fast last night?’ she breathed back.
‘Why did you go dance with someone else?’
‘That bothered you?’ She leaned away and watched his face as he answered.
‘I don’t do commitment, Penny,’ he said honestly. ‘But I do do exclusive. And I do respect.’
She drew in a deep breath. ‘Ditto.’
He watched her just as close. No sign of the super-quick double blink that happened when she was doing a Pinocchio. Interesting. ‘All right, then, I’ll come with you tonight, if you agree to stay well away from any other men in the next week.’
‘I guess I can handle that,’ she said casually. But he could feel her pulse racing.
‘You better be sure.’ He grinned as her gaze stayed true.
‘I’m not promising anything else.’
‘We both know that’s not necessary,’ he drawled. ‘It’s already a given.’
‘This isn’t going to get complicated, Carter.’
He really shouldn’t feel that as a challenge. Anyway, he thought things were getting that touch more complicated with every passing second.
PENNY hadn’t seen Matt in just over a year. She’d been in Tokyo then, slowly working her way back to the South Pacific after her years in Europe.
He’d changed—made that final step from boy to man. And he’d almost caught her out in her web of lies. She knew why he was here—it was the start of even less subtle pressure. Her parents’ wedding anniversary was coming up soon and they wanted a big celebration—one at home in New Zealand.
She couldn’t possibly attend.
She was hoping to save enough money to fly them to her for a holiday. They could afford it themselves of course, but she wanted it to be a gift from her. She wanted that to be enough because she didn’t want to have to go to them. The memories were brought to life there in that big house with their ancient, abundant orchard. The wall of trees linked their home to the property next door—Dan’s parents’ place.
She tried not to think about it and usually, on a day-to-day level, she succeeded. But Matt arriving out of the blue made everything flash in her head movie-montage style. It was almost seven years ago but sometimes felt as recent as yesterday. The darkness of those last few months at home encroached on her vision. And she remembered the estrangement from her family and friends as she’d got mired in a pit of grief and guilt.
She was out of it now. She was strong, she was happy, she was healthy. But the distance from them was still there—literally, emotionally. She didn’t think the bridge could ever be rebuilt. In truth, she didn’t want it to be.
And in her mind she saw him—as she always did—the day before he’d died. She swiftly blanked the images, focused on pleating the square piece of memo paper she had in front of her. Her fingers neatly folded and creased, working on a displacement activity designed to restore calm.
Because she hadn’t coped with what had happened. It had impacted on the whole family and she’d made it worse. Bereavement had shattered the bonds and only by going away had she been able to recover. She needed them to know she was okay. But she couldn’t front up to them and prove it in person. Not there. She didn’t think she could ever face that place.
Carter couldn’t concentrate on the damn transactions. He kept wondering, wanting to know more. In the end he went upstairs and pulled a chair up next to hers. ‘We need to work on our story. For dinner tonight.’
She looked completely blank. She hadn’t thought this through that far, had she?
He leaned forward and angled for more information. ‘So how did we meet? How long have we been dating?’
She turned towards him, her eyes huge. ‘I don’t know. Can’t you make it up?’
‘You trust me to do that?’
Beneath her eyes were blue, bruised shadows. ‘Sure.’
He stared, on the one hand stupidly gratified, on the other uneasy. What had happened this afternoon to make her look so hurt and exhausted? He glanced at her desk. It was bare, save a folded paper crane—which was unexpected and frankly intriguing.
‘Okay, I’ll come up with something,’ he said, bitten by a random need to reassure her. ‘An elaboration on the truth. We met at work.’
She nodded.
‘And there was an instant spark.’
She nodded again.
‘We were powerless to fight it.’
Her nod was slower that time.
‘And we’ve been inseparable since,’ he muttered.
She gazed into his eyes. Hers were so dark he couldn’t tell where her pupils ended and her iris began. Black with longing. Right? He leaned closer, feeling unrestrainable longing himself. He wanted to kiss her. Had to. And never stop until she was right back with him. Right here.
Because the sadness in those deep, secretive eyes was unbearable.
He’d seen the attention she got from other men. He wasn’t the only one to notice her combination of hotness and vulnerability. She unleashed both passion and protectiveness with just a look. And if they had any idea how she kissed, she’d need a posse of bodyguards to fight them off. Was it just her attention-grabbing trick? He grimaced ruefully; he didn’t think so, because she already had him on a three-inch leash.
‘Penny with the perfect plait.’ He slipped his fingers into the tight, glossy braid at the back of her head and massaged gently. ‘Relax. I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. Attentive, caring, funny …’
Why he was saying that he didn’t know. He was supposed to be the perfect investigator. He was supposed to be in his office right now working through all the files and finding the point when the discrepancies occurred. Not planning how he was going to spend the evening pretending to be her lover. But she still looked so anxious and he ached to reassure.
‘We can laugh and make small talk. Wow the brother and then leave.’ He liked the leaving idea. He liked the idea of dressing up with her, going dancing and then dancing some more in private. Yeah, he was a complete fool.
He dropped his hand and stood—a little test of his own strength. ‘Are you going to swim first?’ He’d learned that was her routine.
She shook her head. ‘No time.’
‘You want to go home and change?’
‘I’ve got something here,’ she mumbled.
‘You always have a party-going outfit with you at work?’
She looked surprised he’d even asked.
He went back to his desk for the last hour but all he did was think about her. She was nervous. Why? He didn’t think it was because of him—in fact she was relying on him to carry her through this. So why? What was the big deal about her brother? That prickle of protectiveness surged higher. Why hadn’t she been back in such a long time? It clearly was