Читать книгу Myths Of The Moon - Rosalie Ash - Страница 8

ALMOST simultaneously, they jumped apart as if they’d been stung. Daniel was gazing at Carla with blank, unfathomable eyes, then he squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to block out what he saw.

She felt electrified. Every nerve-end tingling. Her heart pounding. Abruptly she thrust her shaky hands through her wind-blown hair, then clutched her arms around her defensively.

‘Why did you do that?’ she demanded huskily.

He’d opened his eyes again. The sea-green gaze still held no recognisable emotion. Not anger, nor remorse, nor even mockery.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said flatly, expelling his breath on a short sharp burst. ‘It wasn’t a good idea.’

‘No. It wasn’t!’ Her response was automatic, but inside she vaguely recognised a surge of conflict. Unidentifiable emotions seemed to be scudding through her as haphazardly as the clouds across the sky. If he touched her again, if he touched his mouth to hers again, she didn’t know how she’d feel…

‘Maybe we’d better get one thing straight,’ she added frostily, dropping her arms and thrusting her hands into her pockets. ‘I’m not a…a frustrated widow, yearning for sexual fulfilment…’

One dark brow tilted as he watched her.

‘I’m sure you’re not.’

‘And let’s face it,’ she persisted, her anger hardening as she detected that teasing glint, ‘you could be anyone!’

He nodded slowly. ‘Anyone in expensive American boxer-shorts,’ he amended. The wicked gleam had sharpened to real amusement.