Australia: Bundles of Joy. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
he respected her privacy, he needed to discover the reason behind her occasional aloofness before it drove a wedge between them.
Thanks to his deceitful mother, he stuck to the old adage ‘honesty is the best policy’ with an almost obsessive intensity and, though it might be too early to pry into Keely’s secrets, he needed to know the cause of that fearful expression in her eyes at times—and who, or what, had put it there—before they got in too deep. As for her strange withdrawal from him when he made the occasional joke, it hadn’t happened for a few days now and he’d lowered his guard, liking her warm, spontaneous side more and more.
A soft knock at the door had him casting one last critical look around the bathroom before he opened it.
‘I thought you might’ve fallen in,’ she said, pulling the robe she wore tighter across her front.
He tried to concentrate on what she’d just said, he really did, but it proved impossible with her standing there in a pale blue cotton robe looking like a cross between a knowing temptress and Orphan Annie.
He’d never known a woman so full of contrasts—one minute the savvy city girl, the next a defenceless waif who looked ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
Luckily, the only trouble she would encounter here would be if he couldn’t control his raging libido. He felt like a teenager around her, a totally foreign feeling. He was usually a man in control, a man who prided himself on being so. Though right now, with Keely standing in front of him looking good enough to eat, he was having a damn hard time remembering it.
However, if she wanted to take things slow, he would, even if he died of lust in the process.
‘No, just making sure everything was ready for you.’ He opened the door wider and gestured her in. ‘Come in.’
She stepped past him and he caught a faint waft of apples. She used a fruity shampoo, and when he’d been away in Sydney he’d found himself consuming apples by the basketful just so he could enjoy the smell of them and remind himself of her. Pathetic, really, but who could blame him? She’d got under his guard so quickly and so thoroughly his head spun.
He watched her mouth open slightly as she looked around, enjoying her reaction. Despite his feeling silly about the candles and flower petals, the appreciative gleam in her eyes vindicated his actions and made him feel ten feet tall.
‘This is incredible,’ she murmured, reaching out to take hold of his hand. ‘No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. Thank you.’
He squeezed her hand before raising it to his lips and kissing it. ‘Take your time in here. Enjoy.’
Keely stared at Lachlan, the muted light cast by countless candles illuminating his face in a sensual glow.
The trouble he’d gone to in here had blown her away: the candles, the scented bubble bath, the rose petals floating on the water’s surface, the fluffy white bath sheet hanging on a towel warmer and the soft jazz playing in the background. The room almost drugged her with its ambience, yet she had to remain focused if she were to thank the man responsible properly.
‘Lachlan, I … I—’
‘Shh … I know.’ He held a finger up to her lips, effectively removing the need for her stuttered thanks. ‘See you when you get out.’
Tears sprang into her eyes as he shut the door and as she stepped out of her robe and sank into the blissful warmth of the bath, she didn’t know if they were tears of gratitude or—dared she admit it?—tears of a much deeper emotion she’d vowed to avoid.
CHAPTER NINE
‘It’s not the size of the wand that’s important, it’s the way the magician wields it.’
Chrystal, an expert on wands.
KEELY had tried to switch off her thoughts as she soaked in the bath. She’d imagined floating on an endless blue ocean, sitting beside a tinkling waterfall and swimming with playful dolphins. However, her relaxation techniques had had the same effect as they usually did when she tried them at home to drop off to sleep: nothing.
Instead, every time she’d closed her eyes Lachlan’s image had popped up in front of her—his smile, the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed, how his eyes glowed after he’d just kissed her. Endless images that flitted across her mind, reminding her of how much she wanted him.
And how much she wanted to let go of her reservations and love him.
Yes, she’d finally admitted it. Despite being a realist with both feet firmly planted on the ground, despite all her silent protestations, and despite the fact that falling for a man like Lachlan would only end in heartache for them both, she was inches away from falling in love.
Women in love did stupid things. She’d seen it time and time again with her friends and office colleagues, not to mention first hand. Though, strangely enough, what she was about to do couldn’t be termed stupid. In fact, the tension between Lachlan and her had been building towards this since they’d first met. If she believed half the cosmic stuff Tahlia was into, she would almost say it was fated.
Taking a deep breath and tying her robe together, she ventured out of the bathroom. This was it. No backing down, no chickening out. No doubts about what he’d think of her body and whether she’d turn him on or not.
She wanted him and was determined to show him exactly how much. And if he was half the man she thought he was, despite his occasional insensitive comments, he’d accept her just the way she was.
‘Lachlan?’
The house seemed strangely silent. Dusk had fallen while she’d been soaking in the tub and no lights had been switched on yet.
‘In here.’ She heard a muffled reply and followed it into what she’d assumed was a third bedroom.
‘What are you up to now …?’ She trailed off as she opened the door and stepped into another fantasy.
‘Thought you might like a massage after your bath,’ he said, gesturing to the table set up in the middle of the room, covered in thick towels.
She stepped into the room, shaking her head in amazement. If she’d thought the bathroom had been impressive, it had nothing on this—a slow-burning fire, champagne on ice, lavender permeating the air from an oil-burner and soulful sax playing in the background. All in all, she could’ve spent a month in this room, as long as the man standing in the centre of it, with a proud grin on his handsome face, came with it.
‘If you’re trying to seduce me, you’re doing a good job.’ She smiled and crossed the room, standing on the opposite side of the massage table.
He shook his head. ‘This isn’t about seduction.’
‘Then what’s it about?’ Her heart thudded as he walked around the table and traced her cheek with the back of a finger.
‘I wanted to do something nice for you, to make you feel half as good as you’ve made me feel since I met you.’
‘But I haven’t done anything.’ She shook her head slightly, wondering if the prolonged soak had fogged up her brain as well as the bathroom mirrors.
‘You don’t need to.’ His hand dropped to her shoulder, where his fingers toyed with the collar of her robe, lightly skimming her heated skin beneath it. ‘You’ve made me happy just by being you. I haven’t dated in a while and have forgotten how special it can be with the right person.’
She stared at him, speechless. In all the years when her self-esteem had taken a beating, where had a guy like this been?
Correction, where had this guy been?
She’d been through the wringer with her weight issues, the accompanying hang-ups, the brush with an eating disorder that had ruined her chance at having children and the subsequent ramifications on her relationships with men since.