Sinful Revenge: Exquisite Revenge / The Sinful Art of Revenge / Undone by His Touch. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
Luc just smiled and held out his hands in a peace-making gesture. But he backed away, which had her breathing easier until he said, ‘You only have yourself to blame for this, Jesse … It’s your fault we’re here on this island, alone together in this house.’
Jesse crossed her arms over her chest again and bit out, ‘This villa is certainly big enough for both of us. Don’t worry—I’ll stay well out of your way.’
Luc’s grin got bigger and momentarily blinded Jesse.
‘I’m going to make some breakfast, if you’d care to join me?’
Jesse muttered something childish about preferring to eat worms, and it was only when Luc had finally walked out of her room and she’d hurried after him to close the door that she relaxed.
She looked at the lock on the door and wished with all her heart that she could turn the key—but she couldn’t. Much like the sight of blood, she had a phobia about being locked into any room, thanks to her father …
Choking back the sudden rise of emotion, Jesse whirled away from the door and went to the bathroom, stripping off angrily before stepping under the shower. Realising that Luc had found her sleeping, the way she’d woken up in his arms and how that had felt, was seriously unnerving.
Luc Sanchis was playing with her because she’d been stupid enough to let him see that he affected her. This was his only weapon. So of course he was going to take advantage.
She would not let him fool her like this. He fancied her about as much as he fancied a block of wood. She’d seen his women on the internet—all buxom and glamorous and confident. Full of that innate feminine beauty that she’d never emulate.
Jesse turned her face up into the drumming spray to avoid thinking about how that made her feel.
Jesse managed successfully to avoid Luc for the rest of that day and evening. She wasn’t sure how. She was just relieved that she had.
She’d gone down to the kitchen and picked at the leftovers of Luc’s food, which had been helpfully left out on a covered plate on the counter. Jesse didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d left them there for her but she had the uncomfortable feeling that he had.
All through the day the magnitude of what had happened that morning had grown bigger and bigger in her head, so that night was another sleepless one, spent tossing and turning. She got up to shower twice, in some kind of effort to relax. She even considered using the pool, but the thought of running into Luc made her stay in her room.
By the following morning she was worn out. She told herself she was being ridiculous. He was only playing with her head, trying to unnerve her, and she was letting him. All she had to do was draw on the cool shell of reserve that had served her so well for years. She told herself firmly to get a grip.
Dressing carefully in jeans and a shirt, all buttoned up, Jesse went down to the kitchen, girding herself to see Luc. And when she did all her recent good intentions melted into a heat haze. He was standing in the kitchen with his back to her, in nothing but a pair of board shorts which were slung low on his hips. The length of his olive-skinned bare back was a vision of muscled male perfection, drawing her helpless gaze all the way down to those lean hips. He was whistling tunelessly, with a tea towel thrown over his shoulder, and something smelt delicious.
LUC sensed Jesse behind him, and something scarily exultant erupted in his chest as he fought not to turn around.
She’d avoided him the entire previous day and night—concrete evidence that he had her good and rattled. His mouth compressed. He’d been rattled enough himself after those moments in her bedroom. It had taken more restraint than he’d thought he possessed not to plunder her mouth there and then. And as for touching her breast …? He grimaced now, recalling the surge of arousal in his body at just that fleeting touch.
He saw a movement beside his feet and bent down. When he straightened up he turned around and affected his best expression of surprise.
When Luc turned around and saw her surprise was etched onto his face—except Jesse didn’t believe it for a second. But then her attention was taken by the squirming tiny bundle of fur in his arms, held close to that bare chest. Curiosity defused her wariness instantly.
‘What is that?’
Luc looked down, and then back to Jesse. ‘It’s a kitten. I found him wandering around the garden yesterday, so I gave him some milk and a wash and he’s been here ever since.’
Jesse was helpless, walking towards them before she knew what she was doing. She and her mother had used to have a cat in her father’s house, and once it had had a litter of kittens. When her father had found out he’d taken them all and told Jesse malevolently that he was going to put them in a sack and drown them in the river. Whether he had or not Jesse had never found out, but why wouldn’t he? He’d done so much worse. She’d cried herself to sleep for a month after that incident.
Without even thinking about what she was doing she’d reached for and was stroking the tiny grey-striped tabby. It was horribly malnourished and scrawny, but his huge eyes broke Jesse’s heart wide open.
‘Where’s the mother?’ she asked huskily, too emotional to look up at Luc.
She saw Luc’s wide shoulders shrug. ‘She must have died—or else she would have come looking for this little one before now. Feral cats and dogs are all over Greece. The mother cat could have come onto the island on a boat, already pregnant … Here, hold him while I finish making breakfast.’
He handed the tiny bundle into Jesse’s arms and she caught him to her, revelling in his warm weight, light as it was. The kitten snuggled into Jesse like the most trusting thing on the planet.
‘I’m making an omelette. Would you like some?’
Jesse looked up at Luc then, and as much as she’d have liked to say no and insist on burning her own toast she was starving, and completely disarmed after seeing him cradling this tiny animal with such gentleness.
She shrugged. ‘Okay … if you have enough.’ She blushed when she thought of how she’d picked at his leftovers yesterday like some fugitive and turned away. She saw a box in the corner which Luc had obviously set up for the kitten, with paper at the bottom and some milk in a bowl.
He said from behind her, ‘There’s plenty.’
Jesse sat down on a chair and stroked the kitten, which was purring happily now. Her chest felt tight. This was the last thing she’d expected when she’d steeled herself to see Luc.
He came over to the table after a couple of minutes and put down the fluffiest omelette Jesse had ever seen, with hot buttered toast on a plate beside it.
‘Why don’t you put Stripy in his box while we eat?’
Suddenly Jesse was awfully reluctant to let the kitten go, but she forced herself to get up and put him in the box, seeing him lap hungrily at the milk. When she came back and saw Luc sitting down with his own food she said, ‘Stripy?’
Luc glanced at her. ‘Well, he’s grey and stripy …’
Jesse sat down and tried not to notice the expanse of Luc’s bare chest. He was definitely doing this on purpose, and she was not going to react—even though she already felt hot and wanted to undo some buttons on her shirt.
‘I think Tigger is a better name.’
When she didn’t get a response she risked a glance at Luc, who was chewing his food. He swallowed. ‘Tigger?’
Jesse felt silly now. ‘You know—after Tigger in Winnie The Pooh.’
‘Wasn’t he orange?’
Jesse shrugged, embarrassed, wishing