‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry,’ Bobbie apologised. ‘It’s just that...I’m not sure that what we’re planning is a good idea, Sam. Tonight, talking with Olivia and Caspar, I—’
‘Olivia and Caspar—who the heck are they?’
‘Joss’s cousin and her husband. He’s an American from Philly, and—’
‘Hey, have you any idea how much this call is costing? I knew I should have gone over there myself. The trouble with you is that you’re just so darned soft-hearted and sentimental you’d find excuses for the devil himself. Bobbie, you know what the doctor...what happened last year ... we may not have much time left and—’
‘Dr Fraser said that she was fully one hundred percent recovered,’ Bobbie protested, but underneath her fierce protestation she knew that her voice was betraying her anxiety and fear.
‘Yes, I know,’ Samantha agreed. ‘But...we’ve got to see this through, Bobbie. We’ve got to do it. I just wish that I could be over there....’
‘You can’t, not if you’re going to get your master’s and you are going to get it.’
‘I know... I know. So come on, what have you managed to find out?’
‘Nothing much. According to Joss and Olivia, Aunt Ruth is the person to talk to about the family’s history.’
‘Aunt Ruth?’ There was a long pause and then Samantha’s voice grew slightly fainter and huskier. ‘Aunt Ruth, eh. Well now... So are you going to talk to her?’
‘I don’t know, Sam.’ Bobbie’s voice took on a troubled tone. ‘To be honest, I just don’t think that she’d be the right person.’
There was a long pause before she heard Samantha saying, ‘Well, I guess you’re probably right.’
After she had finished her telephone call, Bobbie poured herself a glass of Perrier water from the minibar and padded barefoot across to the window. The hotel bathrobe unexpectedly was just a little too long for her and certainly far too wide and had, she suspected, been found from somewhere by the eagle-eyed maid, who must have noticed how much taller she was than their average female guest. Full marks to her for her observation. There was something very comforting about wearing something so obviously too big; it made her feel positively fragile and dainty, Bobbie reflected ruefully, frowning as she heard someone knocking on her door.
She went to open it, her mouth rounding into a startled ‘Oh’ of surprise as she saw Luke Crighton standing in the corridor, holding her wrap.
‘You left this downstairs,’ he informed her.
‘Yes...I did,’ Bobbie agreed distantly, giving him a frosty look as she added, ‘But there was no need for you to go to the trouble of returning it to me. I could have collected it in the morning.’
‘I’m sure, but Jenny was anxious to get it back to you,’ he told her smoothly.
He was standing well away from the door, too far away for her to reach out and take the wrap from him, forcing her to step out of the room and into the thankfully deserted corridor. She held out her hand for the wrap as she did so, having carefully made sure the door was on the latch beforehand. The last thing she wanted right now was to be locked out of her room wearing only a towelling robe, especially with someone like Luke Crighton to witness her potential embarrassment.
‘My wrap,’ she demanded crisply as she stepped towards him, but instead of handing it to her, to her astounded disbelief, Luke stepped up to her, catching her completely off guard as he skilfully caught up both her hands behind her back with one of his whilst using his free arm to force her into a parody of a lover’s intimate embrace.
Instinctively Bobbie tried to free herself, twisting her body against the dual constraint of his hard-packed muscular body and the tight grip of his hand on her wrists and at the same time trying to lever her leg free to bring her knee up against the most vulnerable part of his body.
It didn’t work; he let her work her leg free all right, but only so that he could take advantage of her accommodating movement by imprisoning her leg between both of his as he pushed her back against the wall of the corridor and bent his head purposefully towards her.
‘Don’t you dare... Oh, don’t you dare,’ Bobbie gasped indignantly, her own eyes blinking with fury as she saw the amused glint in his.
‘No?’ he mocked her, whispering the word against her mouth. ‘What are you going to do to stop me?’
‘This,’ she grated fiercely, baring her teeth as she prepared to take a sharp bite at the male mouth hovering so predatorily close to her own, but instead of the look of cold distaste she had expected to see in Luke’s eyes, he actually appeared to be laughing.
Bobbie glowered at him in indignation, but the furious tirade she had been about to deliver became a muffled choke of shocked astonishment as she saw him lift his hand, the one resting on the wall alongside her, towards her face and then slowly stroke her half-parted lips with the hard pad of his thumb before sliding one finger between her teeth until the tip of it made contact with her tongue.
His flesh tasted slightly salty—and wholly male. She shivered once in mute shock and then again in... in what? she tried to ask herself in the confusion that flooded her brain and her senses.
‘Suck it,’ she heard Luke whispering softly to her. ‘It’s sexy....’
‘Luke...’
Bobbie thought she recognised that high-pitched feminine whine, but as she tried to turn her head to look down the corridor, Luke stopped her, blocking out her view as he covered her mouth with his.
‘Luke.’
The voice was closer now and sharper. It was definitely Fenella’s. Bobbie tried again to jerk her body away from Luke’s.
He certainly knew how to kiss, she acknowledged dizzily. She hadn’t been so instantly and gloriously affected by a mere kiss since she had dated her first crush in high school...and maybe not even then, she admitted to herself.
‘Luke, how could you do this to me?’ Fenella was screeching at what felt like only inches away from Bobbie’s left ear. ‘You know how much I love you....’
‘I know nothing of the sort,’ Luke returned dauntingly, having finally lifted his mouth from Bobbie’s and turned his attention from her towards Fenella.
He still hadn’t released her, though, Bobbie realised, and if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to force herself away from him right now; her legs had become disconcertingly unsteady. And as for that look she had seen in Luke’s eyes when he had finally lifted his mouth from hers... Bobbie felt her stomach start to quiver.
‘You can’t possibly prefer her to me,’ Fenella protested in outrage.
‘I not only can...I do,’ Luke returned. Then ignoring Fenella, he turned back to Bobbie and said quite audibly in an amused voice, ‘I know you have this fantasy about making love somewhere public, but I do think we would be rather more comfortable in your room...in private....’
And before Bobbie could stop him, he had pushed open her door and whisked them both inside. He proceeded to close it firmly behind him and then lock it almost before Bobbie could find time to draw breath.
When she did she was so angry that she could hardly find the words. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded as she pulled herself free from his arms and faced him, praying that he would put the visible trembling of her body down to her anger and not the after-affects of his kiss.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he asked her with clinical detachment.
‘You used me to help you get rid of Fenella,’ Bobbie accused. She shook her head and then pushed the heavy weight of her hair off her face. ‘Why not simply tell her you didn’t