Читать книгу Mr. Loverman - Mary Lyons - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

DESPITE summoning up all the courage at her command, Laura was still miserably aware of a sick, nervous lump in her stomach as she forced herself to return to the sitting room. Thus, after resolutely bracing herself to face an emotional confrontation, it was maddening to discover the long-legged figure of her ex-employer now lying flat out on her cream leather sofa—fast asleep.

He certainly believed in making himself comfortable, she thought sourly, noting that he’d thrown his jacket and tie onto one chair and his briefcase onto another. She’d spent all day cleaning and polishing up her apartment, and yet, less than half an hour after his arrival, the place was already looking a mess!

Jet lag or no jet lag, there was no way she was going to put up with any of his nonsense, Laura told herself grimly, ruthlessly crushing her first instinctive feelings of concern as she stood at the end of the couch, viewing the lines of exhaustion and fatigue etched on Jack’s tanned features. She didn’t need reminding that a leopard never changes his spots. So it was a complete waste of time feeling sorry for the rotten man.

He might have had a long, tiring flight, but, since he regularly flew back and forth across the Atlantic, there were no prizes for guessing that he’d also been out on the town in New York last night with one of his many glamorous girlfriends. Well, good luck to her—because she’d soon find out that she was merely one in a long, long line of completely bamboozled, foolish women.

‘You’re looking a bit grim.’

Jack’s deep voice cut through her distracted thoughts like a dash of icy cold water. Staring down at his supine figure, she noticed that, despite his lazily yawning and stretching his tall frame, the grey eyes regarding her from beneath their heavy lids were glinting with a sharpness and clarity which did absolutely nothing for her peace of mind.

‘Well, how do you expect me to look? My present life isn’t exactly a bed of roses, you know,’ she retorted bluntly.

‘Yes, I’m sorry that I’ve caused you so much trouble and worry.’ He frowned. ‘I had no idea...’

‘OK, OK, we’ve already been over that aspect of my current problems.’ She waved her hand dismissively in the air, well aware that her present situation was partly her own fault. Laura knew that if she’d had any sense she would have been more prudent, carefully saving part of her large salary for just such a rainy day. However, that wasn’t something she was prepared to admit publicly—and certainly not to her ex-employer, now lying at his ease on the pale leather couch and looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

‘Quite frankly, I’m not interested in listening to any of your usual hearts and flowers nonsense,’ she continued bleakly. ‘So can we please get down to the nitty-gritty of exactly what you’re doing in my apartment?’

Jack’s lips had tightened ominously at her caustic reference to his well-known charm and lifestyle. But it was only a moment or two before he clearly had himself well under control once again.

‘I’ve already told you to relax, sweetheart,’ he drawled, deciding to ignore the obvious rage and fury of the girl now standing at the end of the sofa with her hands on her hips and glaring down at him with such stormy green eyes. In his experience, women definitely did not want to be told that they looked far more beautiful when they were angry. So, for the moment, perhaps it would be as well to tread carefully, and concentrate on resolving some of their problems?

‘I came here today to see you,’ he continued, ‘with the sole purpose of bringing you tidings of comfort and joy.’

She gave a snort of cynical disbelief. ‘That’ll be the day!’

‘“O ye of little faith”!’ he murmured, his lips curving into a broad grin of sardonic amusement.

Maybe it was that arrogant, supremely confident smile that finally pushed her over the edge? Mulling over the unfortunate episode later, Laura would realise that losing her temper with the awful man had not been a good idea. But, suddenly consumed with blind rage at his damned condescension—and the fact that he seemed to be using her home to recover from a night out on the tiles!—she hadn’t given a thought to the consequences.

‘Don’t you dare quote the Bible at me, you...you two-timing Casanova!’ she stormed. ‘And my apartment is definitely not a rest-home for tired old theatrical agents,’ she added furiously, bending down to push his feet off the sofa:

The next few seconds seemed to whiz by in a blur. One moment she was leaning down over the arm of the couch, and then—in what seemed like the twinkling of an eye—she found herself being pulled roughly forward, almost flying through the air, before finding herself lying sprawled on top of Jack’s long, hard body.

‘For heaven’s sake!’ she gasped, lying winded and dazed for a moment. Then panic set in as she felt his arms closing about her. ‘What...what on earth do you think you’re doing?’

‘I don’t like being referred to as either “old” or “tired”. Nor do I care to be shouted at by hoity-toity females!’ he drawled with silky menace, although there was a faint smile on the face only inches away from her own.

‘I can’t think why you’ve suddenly become so choosy. Everyone knows you just love chatting up your difficult female clients,’ she retorted breathlessly, frantically trying to wriggle free from the arms now ominously tightening about her like bands of steel.

‘Ah, but you’re talking about work. While this...’ he gave a low, sensual laugh ‘...this definitely comes under the heading of play!’

‘Not for me, it doesn’t!’ she panted, furious at finding herself so firmly trapped in his embrace and desperately trying to ignore the effect that his hard, muscular body was having on her own, trembling figure.

Jack raised his head, the piercing grey eyes studying her flushed features for a brief moment. ‘Liar!’ he taunted, his broad shoulders shaking with wry amusement as he leaned back on the cushions once more.

‘OK, Jack—you’ve made your point. Now, please let me go!’ she begged huskily.

‘No...no, I don’t think so. I’m rather enjoying myself at the moment,’ he murmured softly. ‘On the other hand, I can’t help thinking that we’d both be more comfortable if our positions were reversed.’

‘No!’ she shrieked. But he was already putting his words into action. A second later, she found herself lying on her back, trapped against the rear of the sofa on one side, with Jack’s broad-shouldered figure firmly blocking her escape on the other.

‘I’m not putting up with this sort of nonsense!’ she declared breathlessly as she struggled to sit up, grimly tugging at part of her long robe which had become caught beneath his body. ‘Let me go!’

‘Not just at the moment...’ he murmured, leaning forward to trap her beneath him, raising his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face before tucking it gently behind her ear.

‘Are you deaf? I said that I want you to let me go,’ she hissed, doing her best to ignore the swirling mass of emotions racing through her veins at his soft touch.

Completely ignoring her protests, he slowly and deliberately wound his fingers through her damp hair. ‘The past few weeks have been hell without you, Laura,’ he muttered. ‘I hadn’t realised just how much I need you by my side.’