Читать книгу One Night...Nine-Month Scandal - Sarah Morgan - Страница 8

THE sleek black Ferrari roared along the narrow roads; Kelly was glad he’d dropped her into the seat because her legs had turned to jelly. ‘I can’t believe you kissed me in front of everyone. I will never be able to look at any of them again.’

‘I thought we dealt with your inhibitions four years ago.’

‘I was not inhibited! You were just always doing really embarrassing stuff that—’

‘You’d never done before. I know.’ He shifted gears in a smooth movement. ‘I pushed it too fast, but I’d never been with anyone as inexperienced as you.’ He was supremely cool and her face burned hot as a furnace.

‘Well, I’m sorry!’

‘Don’t be. I’m Greek; teaching you was the most erotic experience of my life.’

Kelly squirmed. ‘And then there was the whole thing with the lights.’

‘Lights?’

‘You always wanted them on!’

‘I wanted to see you.’

Kelly slunk lower in her seat, remembering all the ways she’d tried to hide. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of global warming? We’re supposed to be turning lights off. Anyway, never mind that. I’m not inhibited, but that doesn’t mean I’ve turned into an exhibitionist. And, actually, I just don’t want to kiss you. The thought of kissing you revolts me.’

Without taking his eyes off the road, he smiled. ‘Right.’

It was the smile that flipped her over the edge—that and the fact that her pulse rate still hadn’t returned to normal. ‘How dare you just barge in here after four years and not even offer so much as an explanation? You’re not even sorry, are you? You don’t have a conscience. I could never hurt anyone the way you hurt me, but you just don’t care.’

For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. His hands whitened on the wheel and his mouth compressed. ‘I do have a conscience,’ he said harshly. ‘That’s why I didn’t marry you. It would have been wrong.’

‘What? What sort of twisted logic is that? Oh, never mind.’ Kelly closed her eyes, completely humiliated. She’d kissed him back—hungrily, desperately, foolishly. ‘Why did you kiss me, anyway?’

He shifted gears again, his hand strong and steady. ‘Because you wouldn’t stop talking.’

Kelly’s ego shrivelled still further; it was not because she was irresistible or because he just couldn’t help himself. He’d kissed her as a method of shutting her up. ‘Slow down. I get car sick.’ Not for anything would she admit that the kiss had made her dizzy. Alekos knew everything there was to know about kissing a woman, which was just her bad luck, she thought gloomily. Staring out of the window as trees flashed past, she wondered what he’d meant by that comment. Why had his conscience stopped him from marrying her—because it wouldn’t have been fair to deprive all those other women of great sex?

She swallowed down a hysterical laugh.

It was almost worth tearing the ring from round her neck just to make this whole thing end. What did she have left to lose? Only her pride. And Alekos wasn’t stupid. He probably knew exactly how she felt about him.

She wished now she hadn’t given him the address of her cottage, but she’d been so embarrassed by the exhibition he’d created at the school that she’d just wanted to escape.

Her heart pounding, her mouth dry, Kelly tried to think clearly, but it was impossible to think, jammed into this enclosed space with him. The length of his powerful thigh was too close to hers, and every time she risked looking at him the memories came flooding back: his firm, sensual mouth brushing hers, proving to her that she’d never properly been kissed before; his strong, clever hands teaching her what her body could do, stripping away her inhibitions, everything so shockingly intense and exquisitely perfect that she’d felt like the luckiest woman on the planet.

But their relationship had been more than just incredible sex.

It had been laughter and an astonishing chemistry. It had been fun.

It had been the most stimulating relationship she’d ever had, before or since.

And the most painful.

There had been moments when she’d thought that losing him would be the end of her—standing there, waiting for a man who didn’t turn up. Trying to pretend it didn’t matter.

Transported straight back to her childhood, Kelly closed her eyes and reminded herself that it was different. The trouble was that rejection felt pretty much the same, no matter who was responsible.

‘Take the next left,’ she said huskily. ‘I live in the pink cottage with the rusty gate. You can park outside. I’ll get you the ring and you can go.’

This was a good test of how she was doing, she told herself. If the only way she could handle her feelings for Alekos was by not seeing him, then what had the past four years been about? Why invest so much time on rebuilding a life so carefully if it could be that vulnerable?

She’d got over him, hadn’t she? She’d moved on. Apart from the occasionally disturbing dream involving a virile Greek man and incredible sex, she no longer ached and yearned. Yes, she wore the ring around her neck, but that was going to change. Once she handed it over she was going to do something radical, like joining a project to build a school in Africa or something. And she was going to kiss loads of men until she found someone else who knew how to do it properly. He couldn’t be the only person.

Noticing the neighbour’s curtains twitching, Kelly groaned. She was giving everyone enough to gossip about for at least two lifetimes. ‘Don’t you dare kiss me here. Mrs Hill is ninety-six and she watches from the window. You’ll give her a heart attack.’

Climbing out of the car, she glanced dubiously at Alekos, wondering how he always managed to look completely at home in his surroundings. Boardroom or beach, city or tiny village, he was confident in himself, and it showed. He stood outside her house, the early-evening sunlight glinting off his dark hair, his face so extraordinarily handsome that it took her breath away. Four years had simply added to his raw sex appeal, adding breadth to his shoulders and a hardness to his features that had been missing before.

‘This is where you live?’

Kelly bristled. ‘We’re not all millionaires,’ she muttered. ‘And it’s very bad-mannered of you to look down your nose.’

‘I’m not looking down my nose.’ He shot her an impatient look. ‘Stop being so sensitive and stop imagining what I’m thinking because, believe me, you don’t have a clue. I’m just surprised, that’s all. It’s really quiet here, and you are a very sociable person. I imagined you living in London and going to parties every night.’

Not wanting to flatter his ego by revealing what a mess she’d been after he’d left, Kelly fumbled in her bag for her keys. ‘I am out every night. You’d be surprised.’

He glanced around him, one eyebrow lifted. ‘You’re right. I’d be very surprised. Are you trying to tell me this place comes alive at midnight?’

Kelly thought of the badgers, foxes and hedgehogs that invaded her garden. ‘It’s really lively. There’s a sort of underground nightlife.’ It came to something, she thought gloomily, when badgers had a more interesting sex life than you did. But that was partly her fault, wasn’t it? After the press had torn her apart, she’d hidden away. ‘Wait there; I’ll bring you the ring.’

‘I’ll come in with you. I’d hate to give your neighbour a heart attack, and we’re attracting too much attention out here.’

Her eyes slid from his powerful shoulders to his hard jaw and she looked away quickly, her stomach churning. The thought of him in her little cottage made her heart-rate double. ‘I don’t want you in my home, Alekos.’

His answer to that was to remove the keys from her hand and stride towards her front door.

Enraged, Kelly sprinted after him. ‘Don’t you dare go into my house without invitation!’

‘There’s a simple solution to that: invite me.’

‘I will not. I only invite nice people into my home, and you—’ she stabbed his chest with her finger ‘—are definitely not a nice person.’

‘Why did you sell my ring?’

‘Why did you leave me on our wedding day?’

He inhaled sharply. ‘I’ve told you.’

‘You were doing me a favour—yes, I heard you. You have a warped sense of what constitutes generous behaviour.’

For once he seemed to be struggling to find the right words. ‘It was difficult for me.’

‘Tell me about it. On second thoughts, don’t bother. I don’t even want to know.’ Kelly decided that she couldn’t bear to hear him list all the reasons she was wrong for him. Couldn’t bear to hear him compare her to the skinny, sophisticated blonde she’d seen in the magazine. ‘Come in, if you must. I’ll get the ring and then you can go.’

He stood still, immovable. ‘I know I hurt you—’

‘Gosh, you’re quick, I’ll give you that.’ Kelly snatched the keys back from him and opened her door. She wished he’d just give up and go away, but Alekos didn’t give up, did he? It was that unstoppable tenacity that had made him into the rich, powerful man he was. He didn’t see obstacles; he had a goal and he pursued it, ploughing down everything in his path if necessary. Yet he was praised as a truly innovative businessman with inspirational leadership-skills. And as for his skills as a lover…

Refusing to think about that, Kelly pushed open her front door, wincing slightly as the door jammed on a pile of magazines. ‘Sorry.’ She shoved at the door. ‘I’ve been trying to throw them away.’

‘Trying?’

Kelly stiffened defensively. ‘I find it hard, throwing things away. I’m always scared I’ll get rid of something I might want.’ Stooping, she gathered the magazines, looked hesitantly at the recycling box and then put them back down on the floor. ‘And some of these magazines have some really interesting articles I might want to read again some day.’

Alekos was looking at her intently, as if she were a fascinating creature from another planet. ‘You always did drop everything where you stood.’ The faint amusement in his eyes was the final straw.

‘Yes, well, none of us are perfect, and at least I don’t deliberately try and hurt people,’ Kelly snapped—then gasped in horror as he smacked his forehead hard on the doorframe. ‘Oh—mind out! Poor you—are you OK? Are you hurt? I’ll get you some ice.’ Sympathy bubbled over until she remembered she wasn’t supposed to feel sympathy for this man. ‘These cottages are old. You need to bend your head coming through there.’

Rubbing his fingers over his bronzed forehead, he grimaced. ‘You need to warn people before they knock themselves unconscious.’

‘It’s not a problem for anyone under six foot.’