Читать книгу Two-Timing Love - Kate Proctor - Страница 8

JAMIE’S initial reaction was that he thought Jenny was joking—a joke he found it impossible to share, judging by the sudden wariness diluting the soft somnolence of passion in his eyes. Then he drew back from her, wariness hardening to disbelief as he gazed down at her sprawled beneath him on the bed.

“‘No” is what you should have been saying a good five minutes ago—not now,’ he rasped, rolling away from her and dragging himself upright. ‘And, to be brutally frank, some men would regard themselves justified in considering you to have been cutting it dangerously fine even five minutes ago.’

As he rose from the bed Jenny drew the gaping robe back over her exposed breasts, her badly shaking hands an indication of an inner turmoil that made speech impossible. She sat up, hugging her arms to her in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the still tingling imprint of his hands on her body and the intoxicating heat of him still burning along the length of her. And, as the terrible hunger raged on unabated within her, she found herself dazedly trying to recall what words she had used in that barely conscious moment when she had acted contrary to her every desire and had denied both herself and him.

‘Jamie—where are you going?’ she protested automatically as, with an exclamation of disgust, he turned from her and strode from the room.

‘This is all I need!’ she wailed softly to herself, clutching her head as though willing it to start functioning once more.

When her head eventually obliged, it was to present her with the observation that the only way peace could be restored to her life would be for Jamie to be out of it entirely—a comfortless observation, given the presence of Jonathan in their lives.

But she certainly couldn’t leave things hanging in the air as they now were, she told herself dejectedly, rising from the bed and making her way to the sitting-room.

He was pouring himself a drink as she entered.

‘Jamie—I’d like to apologise,’ she began, then broke off, distracted by the fact that his hands, pouring the drink, were no more steady than her own. ‘I…you took me completely by surprise,’ she added disjointedly and silently cursed herself for not having had the wits to have worked out what she was going to say to him.

Without even casting a glance in her direction, he moved to one of the armchairs and sat down, sprawling untidily on it as he gazed moodily into his glass.

‘What you actually mean is that you took yourself by surprise,’ he retorted sharply, cold speculation in his eyes as they rose to hers. ‘Which mucked up your plans for revenge somewhat.’

‘Revenge?’ croaked Jenny.

‘Wasn’t that your intention—to string me along and then give me a taste of what you considered to be my own medicine?’ he enquired frigidly. ‘Too bad your body put up such a struggle against co-operating with your vengeful little mind.’

‘For heaven’s sake, Jamie—what are you saying? How could you possibly think I’d stoop that low?’

‘How indeed?’ he muttered eventually, plainly a little thrown by the sincerity of her indignation. ‘OK—perhaps you’d care to explain yourself,’ he added harshly, returning to his morose contemplation of the contents of his glass.

Jenny walked over to the chair opposite his and sat down gingerly on its edge, wondering what on earth she could possibly say. The truth was something she had yet to examine, she thought frantically; and even if she had, the chances were it was the last thing she would ever want to confide in Jamie.

‘Hell, you almost had me convinced I was wrong in thinking your motive was revenge!’ he exploded through her panicking thoughts.