One Summer At The Castle: Stay Through the Night / A Stormy Spanish Summer / Behind Palace Doors

‘About this place only being good enough for sheep and cattle,’ remarked Liam mildly, his green eyes intent on her confused face.

‘I didn’t say that.’ Rosa’s cheeks turned pink.

‘As good as. I seem to remember you asking me if it was even civilised.’

‘That was before I’d seen it,’ Rosa protested defensively. ‘Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.’

‘I didn’t think so.’ Liam leaned back, resting his right ankle across his left knee. ‘Sam told me you’d wanted to speak to me before you left on Tuesday morning.’

Rosa stiffened. ‘But you didn’t consider it important enough to get in touch with me?’ she exclaimed impulsively. ‘Even though you’re evidently much better now.’

‘Oh, I am. Much better,’ agreed Liam drily.

Rosa regarded him warily. ‘So—were you going to get in touch with me or not?’

‘Not,’ he declared softly. ‘I thought it was for the best.’

Rosa swallowed. ‘Whose best? Yours, I suppose?’

‘Mine, yes. And yours.’ Liam watched her with unwilling interest. He didn’t need this, he told himself, even as he added, ‘I don’t think we have anything more to say to one another, do you?’

‘Well, obviously I do.’ Rosa knew it would probably be wiser if she got to her feet and got out of here before she said or did something unforgivable. ‘There’s something else I want to ask you about Sophie.’

Her sister!

Liam only just prevented himself from using a word that wasn’t acceptable in mixed company. But hadn’t they dealt with her sister’s disappearance to distraction already? He didn’t even know the girl, but he disliked her intensely.

Dropping his foot to the floor, he leant forward, allowing his hands to hang free between his spread thighs. Then, in a controlled voice, he said, ‘What about her?’

Rosa moistened dry lips. ‘I—forgot to ask you if it was possible that a film was being made in another part of the Highlands.’

Liam turned his head to give her an incredulous look. ‘Well, sure,’ he said. ‘People are always making films in this part of the world. So what? You think now that your sister might really have hooked up with a guy from a film production?’

‘It’s possible.’ Despite the disbelieving look in Liam’s eyes, Rosa knew a twinge of optimism. ‘And I think you might have told me about the probabilities of these other productions.’

‘Say what?’ Liam was indignant. ‘What the hell do they have to do with me?’

‘Well, they’re your books, aren’t—?’

‘Whoa!’ Liam halted her there. ‘You think I’m talking about an alternative production of one of my books?’

‘Well, aren’t you?’

‘Hell, no.’ Liam gave an exasperated snort. ‘I was talking about films generally. For God’s sake, if I’d thought they were making a film of one of mine elsewhere in the Highlands, don’t you think I’d have told you?’

Rosa’s shoulders sagged. ‘So they’re not?’

‘No.’

‘You’re sure?’

Liam gave a half-laugh. ‘Well, let’s put it this way, I’ve signed no contracts.’

‘You mean they haven’t paid you?’

‘If you want to put it like that.’

Rosa gave a heavy sigh. ‘What other way is there? I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.’

‘Hey, don’t say that.’ As suddenly as before, Liam changed his mind about her. ‘You’ve certainly provided a pleasant distraction on a particularly dull day.’

‘I’m glad I’ve amused you.’

Rosa’s voice was thick, but when she would have pushed to her feet Liam’s hand on her thigh prevented her from rising. ‘Don’t go,’ he said, his fingers registering the warmth of her flesh beneath the fine wool trousers. She was quivering, and when her eyes widened uncertainly, he added swiftly, ‘Mrs Wilson is bringing us some coffee.’

Rosa’s mouth was dry. But, in spite of everything, she knew that this was really why she’d come here. Oh, she’d wanted to ask him about Sophie, too. But she hadn’t held out much hope in that regard. What she’d needed to know was if the instant attraction she’d felt between them was just a figment of her imagination.

It didn’t feel like it at this moment. The fingers gripping her leg were both strong and oddly possessive. And when she lifted her head and looked into his eyes she saw a reflection of her own thwarted desires.

Dear heaven, she thought incredulously, he did want her. She just wished she had the first idea of what she was going to do about it.

The knock at the door was timely. Liam released Rosa at once, rising to his feet as the housekeeper obeyed his summons and came into the room carrying a tray.

‘Sam said you wanted coffee, Mr Jameson,’ Mrs Wilson murmured, her gaze flickering quickly over his guest’s bent head. ‘Where would you like it?’

Liam’s lips twitched a little at the woman’s unknowing innuendo, but he gestured towards the low table that was set between the two sofas. ‘Just here’s fine,’ he said, wondering if her interruption was fate, trying to bring him to his senses. Mrs Wilson set down the tray and straightened. ‘Thanks.’

The door closed behind the housekeeper with a definite click, and, because anything else would have looked strange, Liam subsided again onto the sofa beside Rosa. But he avoided looking at her, saying instead, ‘Help yourself.’

Rosa made no move to do so. She merely stared at the tray as if it might provide the answers she sought. A steaming jug of coffee, two porcelain cups, a cream jug and a sugar basin. Such ordinary items, yet they represented the difference between an increasing awareness and the coolness she now felt from Liam.

‘I’m not thirsty,’ she said at last. ‘And I think I’d better go, after all.’

Liam’s jaw clenched, and before he could prevent himself he asked, ‘Do you want to?’

No!

Rosa turned her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said weakly.

Liam groaned, and, forgetting what he’d told himself since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, reached out and slipped his hand behind her nape. Then, before he could change his mind, he pulled her towards him.

And she came, seemingly willingly, her lips parting beneath his with a sensuality he hadn’t expected. He’d intended to keep this light, inconsequential, but when her mouth opened he plunged his tongue into that wet, heated cavern without giving himself time to think.

She tasted hot and sweet and immensely desirable. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand had slid from her neck to the sensitive hollow of her spine. She arched towards him and he felt her taut breasts nudging his chest. And, God help him, his hand slipped lower, cupping the provocative curve of her bottom.

She jerked uncontrollably, but she didn’t draw away, and he urged her back against the cushions behind her. He was kissing her now with a wild abandon that he hadn’t felt since who knew when. If he’d ever felt this way, he conceded with unwilling honesty, as he ravaged her mouth again and again.

But this was not what he’d intended, he thought, in a rare moment of coherency. Not what he’d intended at all. He didn’t indulge in one-night-stands with needy divorcees who were looking for no-strings sex. Besides, he hardly knew her. And she knew nothing of the monstrous scars that lurked beneath the expensive civility of his clothes. Hadn’t he learned to his cost that women were not to be trusted? If he didn’t want to scare her half to death, he should stop this. Now.