Читать книгу Breakfast In Bed - Ruth Dale Jean - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

GARRETT pressed his lips against hers...cool and smooth and thrilling. Stiff with shock, she simply stood there as if paralyzed and let him kiss her.

It was the most powerfully erotic kiss she’d ever received, perhaps because there was only that single point of contact between them. He didn’t put his arms around her or even lean toward her, although trapped between his body and the refrigerator, she couldn’t have retreated any farther if she’d tried.

Her every sense was centered in the growing warmth of his mouth so persuasively controlling hers, the growing warmth of her blood singing through her veins with the sparkle of champagne.

Only slowly did it dawn on her that someone was calling his name. She opened her eyes, unsure when she might have closed them, and blinked, trying to find her bearings.

When she succeeded, she shoved him away and stepped aside, surprised she could stand on legs that trembled this violently. My goodness, that man could kiss! She’d never encountered anything so seductive in her entire life.

But why was he frowning? She hadn’t put any moves on him! Before she could ask, that unfamiliar female voice intruded again.

“Mr. Jackson? Are you there? Where is everybody? Honestly, if you think I’ve come all this way to wander around in some forest—”

My goodness, Brooke thought groggily, her gaze meeting Garrett’s, what a strident voice. It was one he apparently recognized, however, for his look of shock and displeasure was quickly replaced by one closely resembling resignation.

“Mrs. Sisk,” he announced with a significant glance at Brooke, as if that were explanation enough.

“Who’s Mrs. Sisk?” Brooke found she had trouble using her voice and swallowed hard.

“Molly’s nanny.” He watched her closely, as if trying to gauge her reaction to his recent sneaky advances. “I forgot all about her.”

From the annoyed tone of the woman’s voice, Brooke didn’t blame him for at least trying. “Nevertheless, I’d say she arrived in the nick of time,” she replied tartly. “If you think you can go around stealing kisses any time you feel like it—”

“Hey, that wasn’t highway robbery or anything. I won that kiss fair and square.” A roguish grin tilted his mouth at one corner. “In fact, I was robbed. I didn’t get to finish it.”

“Oh, yes, you did.” Brooke squared her shoulders and pointed toward the door. “You’re really finished. Now you’ve got to face the music.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, but this only delays the inevitable. Your time will come, Ms. Brooke Hamilton.”

Which was exactly what worried her, she admitted, following him into the other room. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Mrs. Sisk!

All gratitude quickly fled, however, for Mrs. Sisk was not the kind of woman who evoked such tender emotion. In fact, Brooke thought, poor Molly had a nanny who looked more like an aging Amazon than a nurturer.

A large woman, she stood beside the sofa where Molly still dozed with Lombard curled up beside her. Fists firmly planted on her hips, the nanny stared down at child and cat with patent disapproval. Dressed in a shapeless gray dress and boxy gray wool jacket, with her jet-black hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck, she looked exactly like somebody’s idea of an old maid schoolteacher of a century ago.

“What is the meaning of this?” She indicated the pair on the sofa.

“Uh...” Garrett frowned. “No meaning, beyond the fact that Molly was tired and fell asleep.”

“I am talking about that animal.”

Lombard glared up at the newcomer with a look of pure feline animosity on her furry face. She did not, however, offer to move.

Brooke rushed in to smooth troubled waters. “That animal is just a cat, actually a very sweet cat.”

“An oxymoron if I ever heard one.” Mrs. Sisk dismissed Brooke with a flick of her stubby eyelashes. “Mr. Jackson, whatever are you thinking of? This practically constitutes child abuse.”