“It is easier to travel light,” Hannah explained matter-of-factly.
He stared down at the bag near her feet as though it represented a life he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe in. His gaze shifted to her well-worn sandals, then slowly travelled up her much-washed and somewhat faded jeans. He was probably realising she had few clothes with her and they were in frequent use, but this direct re-appraisal made Hannah super-conscious of her body again.
Her knees quivered. Muscles below her stomach spasmed. By the time his scrutiny reached her bare midriff, she could feel her nipples hardening in some wild anticipation of his liking the shape of her breasts, even wanting to touch them. His gaze certainly lingered on them long enough to take her breath away. She couldn’t think of anything except how much she wanted him to really want her, and her temples were pulsing with an exhilarating excitement when he finally looked into her eyes.
But there was no suggestion of desire in his.
No flirtatious twinkle.
What poured out at her was an almost savage intensity of feeling. It gripped her heart like a vice, squeezing it as though he wanted to extract her life essence, everything she was made of. Not because he wanted it. He just wanted to know. And he was angry at the need to know.
Hannah could feel herself shrivelling inside. She didn’t understand what he found wrong with her, why he was angry. In sheer self-defence, she broke the shattering flow from him by bending over to pick up her bag. He beat her intention by grabbing the straps ahead of her.
“I’ll carry it for you,” he said gruffly.
She didn’t argue. In fact, she snatched her hand back from making any contact with his. When he set off for the parking area where he’d left the jeep, she lagged a pace behind, struggling with a mountain of emotional confusion. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go with him or be connected to him for any length of time.
Rejection hurt.
She’d been there before.
All those months with Flynn…then to find him cheating with her best friend. It had made everything—absolutely everything—feel wrong.
She’d only just met Tony King but…anger started to burn, searing away the hurt. He had no right to treat her as though she was some kind of unwelcome intruder in his life. He could have vetoed his grandmother’s judgement and taken on one of the other applicants for the job of chef. She shouldn’t be fretting over what he might perceive as wrong with her. The fault obviously lay in him.
She was fine.
His grandmother thought she was fine.
The crew of Duchess thought she was fine.
So there had to be something wrong with Tony King if he didn’t think she was fine.
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