Читать книгу Burned - Sarah Morgan - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

Oh, crap.

The first thing our mother taught us was never to show a man you’re broken-hearted. I’d virtually dropped the pieces of mine in his lap.

‘What I mean is, I’ve learned to look after myself.’ I realized we were in Notting Hill and felt unnerved. ‘How do you know where I live?’

‘There are some things we need to talk about, but first I want to check that head of yours.’

I wanted to check my head, too. What had possessed me to climb into a car with Hunter Black? Obviously I had a concussion. I needed a health check, or at the very least a reality check.

‘We don’t have anything to talk about, but I do want to know how you have my address.’

He didn’t answer me. Instead he took a right and then a left into the leafy, tree-lined street where I lived with my sister.

Our apartment was on the top floor of a lovely brick building, with views over the rooftops toward Kensington Gardens. If you stood on tiptoe and stuck your head out of our bathroom window, you could see Prince Harry (only kidding, sadly). We were right in the middle of shops, restaurants and the market. I loved it. Of course, since Hayley and Nico got together—you probably felt the ground shake—I’d had it to myself quite a bit. I didn’t mind that. It meant I could practise in the living room without accidently kicking her or getting yelled at when I knocked a lamp off the table. Normally coming home soothed me. Tonight I was officially freaked out.

‘Good night, Hunter. Thanks for the lift.’

‘Is Hayley home?’

‘How do I know? And why do you care?’

‘You had a blow to the head. I’m not leaving you alone.’

‘I want you to leave me alone.’ I was fumbling with my seat belt, fingers slippery and shaky with nerves. Turned out I couldn’t even do that without help and I felt the warm strength of his hand as it covered mine.

His fingers were warm, strong and totally steady and it irritated me that he had so much control when I had none.

He leaned forward and his jaw, dark with stubble, was only inches from my eyes. I looked at the sensual curve of his lips and the urge to press my mouth against his was almost painful.

And then he looked at me and I knew he was fighting the same urge.

For a moment we sat there, the moment of intimacy disturbed by the flash of headlights from a passing car.

Mouth tight, he unclipped my seat belt. ‘You’re bleeding. I should have taken you to the E.R.’

‘It’s nothing.’ I was struggling to focus, but it had nothing to do with the blow to my head. There was something about being close to Hunter Black that made the most level-headed of women dizzy. ‘I’ll be fine. Good night. Great to catch up with you again after all this time. Have a nice life.’

I never was any good at delivering sarcasm, a fact confirmed by his smile. It was a slow, sexy, slightly exasperated smile that acknowledged everything that lay between us. I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I preferred to step over it with my eyes shut.

Desperate to get away from that smile, those shoulders, the man, I virtually scrambled out of his car and sprinted to the door.

‘Stairs or elevator?’ He was right behind me and I gritted my teeth. When I was eighteen, he’d left me at acceleration speeds that would have left his car standing, but now I couldn’t shake him off.