Sophie felt her mouth twitch and she stared down at her feet.
‘Maybe,’ Theo murmured slowly, ‘it works if you want a man who can sit with you in the evenings and do some cross stitch in between gossiping about the latest reality show on TV…’
Sophie was not going to give in to the temptation to laugh. She reminded herself of his ability to be as arrogant as hell, not to mention targeting her personal life and asking questions that were way out of line. Because he also had a wicked sense of humour when he chose, it just made him all the more infuriating.
She schooled her expression into one of thoughtful agreement. ‘Yes, companionship is always wonderful…’ she mused. ‘Obviously the cross stitching is taking it a bit too far, but a man who can cook—well, actually, I don’t think you’ll find too many women who would run screaming in the opposite direction from that…’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ Theo drawled lazily. ‘Maybe it’s the women I’ve mixed with. They have fed me the illusion that what turned them on was strength of character…’
He flicked the tea towel in his hand over one shoulder and began to walk in her direction. Sophie very nearly yelped in sudden alarm.
She spun round on her heel, before her legs could let her down by turning to lead, and headed straight for the front door. She spoke with her back to him, rambling on about strength of character having nothing to do with whether a man was sensitive or not. She knew that he was right behind her, would be seeing her to the door so that he could lock it behind her. She reached the door and grasped the door knob just as Theo drew even with her.
There was a lingering scent of some light floral perfume on her. Theo could smell it very faintly. And her hair, no longer in plaits, was a mass of tiny waves falling softly around her face.
Typically, she was gabbling on in an argumentative manner about something or other, like an irate little terrier snapping angrily at nothing in particular. Theo grinned down at her just as she raised her eyes and she glared, on the verge of continuing her running disgruntled monologue.
‘If women want the sensitive, culinary type of man, then can I give you some advice…? Men want women who don’t rant all the time…’
Theo thought she might explode on the spot. This time he couldn’t help himself. He flung back his head and laughed and, God, did it feel good.
Sophie, rendered speechless, stared at him open-mouthed and was still staring at him when he finally sobered up.
‘Course,’ he murmured in a dangerously soft voice, ‘there is one foolproof way to stop a woman in mid-tirade…’
She should have sensed it but, even when he leant against the doorframe and lowered his head to hers, the feel of his mouth against hers was shockingly unexpected. She gasped and was driven back as he kissed her deeper, harder, with the urgency of a man denied physical contact for too long.
His body was pressed against hers and she was mindlessly aware of his erection. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, painful and sensitive and yearning for him to pull up her jumper and lave them with his tongue.
The full inappropriate horror of the situation hit her seconds after it hit him and Theo was the first to pull back, enraged with himself and filled with sudden savage self-disgust.
Worse than the lapse in his self-control was the knowledge that he had enjoyed every minute of that kiss, had wanted to do more.
‘Go…’ he rasped and Sophie frantically yanked open the door, shaking like a leaf.
He was aware of her leaving and knew that he had locked the door behind her. Somehow he found himself in his bedroom where, for once, his drift off to sleep was not preceded by a couple of hours on his laptop computer.
Events, whatever you wanted to call it, had taken him by surprise and now he would need to figure out what to do. Because if there was one thing Theo did not welcome in his life it was surprise. With surprises, in his experience, always came an element of the nasty and nasty was something he would ruthlessly excise from his life, whatever the cost…
SOPHIE thought that it was a sad reminder of her man-less existence that the memory of that fleeting kiss haunted her over the next three days. She couldn’t understand how it had happened. She barely knew the man and disliked a fair bit of what she did know, and yet she couldn’t remember ever being more turned on by a kiss. Just thinking about it afterwards made her feel giddy.
Of course it wouldn’t take long for that ridiculous sensation to fade away and she had planned on keeping out of his way as much as she could to ensure that the fading process took as little time as possible. Besides, seeing him again would be embarrassing for both of them. She might have been shocked at what had happened but his reaction had been a lot more extreme. He had looked angry and disgusted with himself and had hustled her out of the cottage with such speed that she was surprised she had made it out of the door in one piece. She didn’t know what that had been about but she was sharp enough to realise that he would probably be even happier than her not to be reminded of the brief physical encounter.
Which was why she found herself staring at the note on her desk with such dismay.
‘They can’t do this!’ she protested to Robert, who was tackling a stack of papers with the aid of a chocolate bar. Moira and Claire had both left for the evening, Christmas shopping before the crowds descended, and, Sophie suspected, the temptation to do something a little less relentless and a little more rewarding than plough through innumerable files. She couldn’t blame them. There was nothing more conducive to killing the Christmas spirit than the contemplation of yet more paperwork that had to be matched up and puzzled over. Only Robert remained loyal to the cause. His pace of work was slow, but he was thorough and uncomplaining. Sophie had realised some time back that she could ask for little more.
‘They can and they will,’ he now said, linking his fingers on his stomach and looking at her. ‘It may have escaped you but this part of the world doesn’t rank right up there with London, Tokyo and New York…’
‘Which isn’t to say that the electricity board can plunge us all into darkness virtually in the middle of winter!’ Sophie protested.
‘For a few hours, Soph! I think we can all manage to do without electricity between eight and one tomorrow! Course, we won’t be able to work here,’ he pointed out, casting a jaundiced eye around him. ‘This place is like a dungeon without the lights on.’
Sophie’s mind was already racing ahead. Would they have notified Theo of the power cut? Probably not. She had had her mail redirected to her office address as soon as the cottage had been let. It would be her responsibility to let her tenant know the situation.
Which meant facing the man.
‘Why don’t you and I bunk off tomorrow? Go do a little Christmas shopping…You could do with a break. I’ll treat you to lunch…’
Sophie, staring off into the distance, wondered how she could avoid the uncomfortable task of calling in on Theo. She shuddered to think what his reaction would be on seeing her on his doorstep. Or, rather, on her doorstep.
‘Hello? Is anybody there?’
Sophie registered that Robert had been saying something to her but, for the life of her, she didn’t know what precisely, and her expression must have given her away for the smile dropped and he reddened.
‘I’m sorry, Robert. What were you saying?’
‘I was saying that you need to take a break from all this, Sophie.’ He made a sweeping gesture towards the paper overload swamping the surfaces of the desks and quite a bit