Passion & Pleasure: Savage Awakening / For Pleasure...Or Marriage? / Taken for His Pleasure

‘Well, then…?’

Fliss hesitated. She was getting the distinct impression that he was already regretting the invitation, but he’d made it now and he’d stand by it.

So why shouldn’t she take advantage of it?

‘All right,’ she said, feeling a little frisson of excitement in the pit of her stomach. ‘Where do you want to go?’

Matthew Quinn frowned. ‘Well, there’s a coffee shop in the supermarket, isn’t there? Or—’ His mouth thinned. ‘We could go back to my place.’

‘The supermarket sounds fine,’ said Fliss hastily, turning to lock the car again. She moistened her lips. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘Why shouldn’t I be sure?’ he demanded, and then sudden comprehension brought a sardonic twist to his mouth. ‘Oh, right. You think I might want to avoid public places, yeah?’

Fliss gave a nervous shrug. ‘It’s your call.’

‘But you know who I am, right?’ he persisted, and she gave him a defensive look.

‘Did you think I wouldn’t?’

‘Perhaps I hoped,’ he admitted, moving closer as another car came to take the slot beside Fliss’s. ‘I guess the whole village is twittering about it.’

‘You flatter yourself!’

Fliss used the retort to put some space between them. The other car had initiated an intimacy she hadn’t expected and she couldn’t deny she was flustered. The brush of his arm against hers had stirred an awareness that pooled like liquid fire in her belly and she was desperate to escape before he realised she was unsettled by his nearness.

‘Do I?’ he asked now, falling into step beside her as she hurried towards the supermarket. ‘How’s that?’

‘Well, I didn’t say anything!’ exclaimed Fliss hotly, feeling an unwelcome trickle of perspiration between her breasts. Rushing about in this heat wasn’t just unwise, it was stupid. ‘If you don’t believe me—’

‘Did I say I didn’t believe you?’ he countered softly. Then hard fingers fastened about her upper arm, bringing her to an abrupt stop. ‘OK, let’s start again, shall we? I know I probably seem paranoid to you and I’m sorry. It’s what comes of spending the last six months trying to pretend I’m normal. Obviously I’m not being very successful.’

Fliss’s eyes widened. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said after a moment. ‘Of course you’re normal. It’s me. I’m too easily offended. But, honestly, I haven’t told anyone who you are.’

His lips twitched. ‘I believe you.’

‘Good.’ Fliss forced a smile, even though she doubted anything he said would slow her pulse. ‘So—do you want to go in?’

Matthew Quinn smiled then, which did nothing for her rattled equilibrium. Yet there was a vulnerability about that smile—as well as a raw sensuality—that seemed to tug almost painfully at her heart.

The fact that he’d actually said nothing to warrant such a reaction disturbed her quite a bit. She had no reason to feel sorry for him, for heaven’s sake. Or was feeling sorry for him her defence? The alternative—that she might be attracted to him—was definitely a more dangerous proposition.

‘You wouldn’t reconsider my offer of coffee at my house,’ he said at last, when she was almost at breaking point. ‘Maybe you’re right; maybe I do flatter myself. But right now, I’ve got no desire to risk being stared at yet again.’

Chapter Four

HE WAS sure she would refuse.

As he released her arm and stepped back from her, he realised he was banking on it. He’d already regretted issuing the invitation, however urgent his motives had been. All he really wanted to do was go home and close his door against the world. He wasn’t up to entertaining anyone. Diane’s visit had proved that. So what in hell was he doing inviting this young woman back to his home and risking his fragile independence yet again?

She was looking at him now, her blue eyes wide and troubled. What was she thinking? he wondered. That she couldn’t trust him? That he was some crazy nutcase who was suffering a bad attack of paranoia? If so, she was probably right.

She looked so innocent, he thought irritably. Which couldn’t be true. What had Diane said? That she’d got herself pregnant at sixteen? Hardly the behaviour of an innocent. And women could effect any number of disguises. Diane had proved that, too.

But this girl was nothing like Diane. He knew that. For one thing, Diane would never go out without make-up, or give so little regard to her appearance. OK, Fliss Taylor’s skin was smooth and creamy and seemed to need little improvement, but her hair clashed wildly with the pink overalls she was wearing, and, judging by the way her breasts moved, she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that skimpy T-shirt—

Hold it! Where the hell had that come from? It was a long time since he’d even noticed a woman’s breasts.

‘All right,’ she said suddenly, startling him out of his guilty reverie. ‘Let’s do that.’ Was it only his imagination or was she putting a brave front on it, too? ‘I assume you came in your own vehicle.’

Matt’s gaze moved automatically to where he had parked the Land Cruiser. ‘Oh—yeah,’ he said, his heart sinking. He was going to have to go through with this. ‘D’you want me to follow you home or vice versa?’

‘I’ll follow you,’ she said at once, and he wished he hadn’t given her the option. Now he was going to be aware of her behind him, watching his every move, all the way back to Mallon’s End.

Great!

‘OK,’ he said now, forcing a polite smile. ‘I’ll get going.’

In fact it wasn’t as bad as he’d anticipated. She kept a comfortable distance between them the whole way and he’d already parked the Toyota and got out of the driving seat before she turned up the drive.

Fortunately Matt had visited the supermarket himself before he’d accosted her and now he hauled a couple of plastic carriers out of the back of his vehicle before wrestling his key into the lock.

‘Come on in,’ he said, backing up against the door to allow her to precede him into the hall. ‘You’ll have to forgive the state of the place. I haven’t gotten around to doing any decorating yet.’

‘Actually, I like it the way it is,’ she said as he closed the door behind them, and he remembered why he had wanted to talk to her in the first place.

‘Yeah, right,’ he said, edging past her when she paused to look up the curving staircase. ‘Diane said you used to work here. Is that true?’

A faint colour invaded her creamy cheeks as he spoke. ‘I might have done,’ she said, and he sensed she wasn’t as comfortable with it as Diane had implied. Her steps definitely slowed as she reached the kitchen. ‘Where is Diane, anyway? Did she suggest I might be interested in working for you? Is that what this is all about?’

He dumped the carriers on the pine table before he looked at her again. ‘Diane’s in London,’ he said flatly. ‘I’m sorry if you expected she’d be here. I’m afraid there’s only me.’

Fliss’s soft lips pressed together for a moment. ‘But she did suggest that I might be glad of a job, didn’t she?’ She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘I should have known.’

Matt hesitated only a moment. ‘If you know Diane at all then you should know that she’d never suggest I employed any woman under the age of fifty. Especially not someone she seems to regard as a rival.’

He heard her suck in a breath. ‘You’re joking, right?’

He hadn’t been, but Matt regretted being so honest. ‘Yeah, maybe,’ he said, knowing Diane would definitely not approve of him saying that. ‘Anyway, forget it. Which do you prefer? Tea or coffee? I have both.’

She hesitated. ‘Um—tea would be nice,’ she said at last. ‘Do you need any help?’

Matt’s mouth compressed. ‘Why? Do I look as if I do?’ He plugged in the kettle. ‘No, don’t answer that. My ego’s not up to it at the moment.’

A trace of humour touched her lips. ‘I’m sure that’s not true either.’ She wrapped her arms about her midriff. ‘What did Diane tell you about me?’

Matt didn’t want to get into that. ‘Not a lot,’ he said, not altogether truthfully. He unloaded some steak and a couple of pre-cooked meals into the fridge. ‘I guess Amy’s at school right now, isn’t she?’

Fliss nodded. ‘She’s in year five at the village primary. You must have seen the school as you drove through.’ She paused and then went on. ‘So—do you need a housekeeper?’