The British Bachelors Collection. Kate Hardy. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Kate Hardy
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474067461
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      He flashed her a quick wink. ‘Not about the sexy— that’s still up there—but I was temporarily blinded by the force of your exuberance into thinking that you might be exactly what you appear to be.’

      Sean shook his head, looked around the bedroom and exhaled slowly as he moved his head from side to side. ‘Wrong. A thousand times wrong. Every day this week you have turned up to work wearing a riot of colour and pattern which has livened up my life and that of everyone you have met. But I am starting to see that that is only one tiny part of who you are.’

      Then he stepped closer, then closer still, until he was totally inside her personal space, their bodies almost touching, tantalizingly close. So close that there was scarcely enough room for his hands to slide lightly onto her hips.

      ‘You fascinate me, Dee Flynn. How many sides to you are there? And, more importantly, why are you keeping them hidden? Tell me, because I would really love to know.’

      ‘Why do I wear bright clothing? That’s easy, Sean. It’s human nature to judge a book by its cover. You look at the clothes people are wearing and you make an instant judgement about who they are and what they do and where they fit in this crazy world. Especially in Britain, where the class system rules whether we like it or not.’

      Her gaze scanned his body from head to toe.

      ‘Look at you—you go to work in a smart suit and shiny black shoes every day. I’ve never seen you in jeans and a T-shirt. Perhaps you don’t own those things. Perhaps this is who you are. And that’s fine. You own that suit; it’s gorgeous. And it’s your job.’

      Dee gave a small shrug. ‘But the rest of us? The rest of us are doing the best we can to build bridges with people and make connections. I designed most of my day clothes, and they are friendly, open and welcoming for when I am working in the tea rooms. I love wearing them and it gives me pleasure. Practical too. They fit my personality. They express who I am. They are honest and real.’

      ‘So why are you wearing black this evening?’

      Dee slid out of his arms, paced over to the window and drew back the curtain so that the cool night air played on her bare arms.

      ‘Isn’t it obvious, Sean?’

      ‘Not to me. Talk to me, Dee. Why black?’

      She seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before whirling back towards him, and he was shocked to see tears in the corners of her glistening eyes.

      ‘I didn’t want to show you up. There; that’s it. Happy now?’

      Each word hit him right between the eyes like a high-velocity ice cube that melted the second it reached his heart, which burned hot and angry.

      No other woman had ever done that for him.

      Wanted that for him.

      She was not wearing this lovely couture outfit to impress the big cheeses—she was wearing it so that she did not embarrass him.

      And it blew him away.

      Sean ran his fingers along the slippery silk fabric of her silk kimono strewn on the bedcover. For once in his life, words were impossible.

      He slipped his dinner jacket onto the back of the small desk-chair and took a second before turning back to face his amazing woman.

      ‘Not many people surprise me, Dee,’ he managed to say. ‘Not after a lifetime working in the hotel trade.’

      Then he smiled and tapped the end of her nose with his forefinger. ‘You don’t need a little black dress to make you feel special. You could wear an old bath towel and still be gorgeous. Look at you. No, don’t pull away like that. I think that it’s time that you saw yourself through my eyes.’

      ‘What are you doing? We’re going to be late,’ Dee protested.

      ‘Then we are going to be late. You are more important than a room full of hotel management any day of the week. Okay? Besides, you have already pointed out that I have that stubborn streak, remember? I am not leaving this room until you have changed out of this dress and put on something which you love. Something you have chosen. Something you feel wonderful and special in. Then I might help you to choose the shoes.’

      ‘You want me to change? Into what? This dress was really expensive. I don’t have anything in my wardrobe to match it.’

      ‘I didn’t ask for an expensive dress to keep me company this evening. I asked you—Dervla Skylark Flynn. Not some designer clone. In fact, here is a challenge. What’s the one outfit you possess which is the exact opposite of a black designer dress? Come on, you must have one.’

      She snorted and shook her head. ‘You mean my sari? I can’t wear that to a hotel dinner when all of your clan will be there.’

      ‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘You can.’ And then he bit down on his lower lip and stepped in closer. So close that his chest was pressed against hers as he held her tight around the waist with both hands flat on her back.

      ‘But first we have to get you out of this dress. And, since I am the one who is insisting on it, I feel that it is my duty to help you.’ His lips brushed lightly across her forehead. ‘Every...’ he moved onto her temple ‘...inch...’ then her neck, nuzzling into the space below her ear with his cheek ‘...of the way.’

      Dee closed her eyes and revelled in the glorious sensation of his cheek against hers, the feeling of his hot breath on her neck, the gentle friction of his hair on her ear. Whatever cologne or aftershave he was wearing should have been labelled with a hazard code and stored away in a bomb-proof box, because her sensitive nose and palate were overwhelmed with the rich, aromatic aroma blended with a base note that was nothing to do with a chemical laboratory and everything to do with the man who was wearing it.

      Of course, she could feel the sensation of his fingers moving on her back but pressed so tight against his body it was suddenly irrelevant—the only thing that mattered was Sean and this moment they were together. Future. Past. Nothing else mattered but this moment. It was glorious.

      So when he slowly, slowly inched his head away from her it was a shock. She eased open her eyes to find that his breathing was as fast as hers and she could see the pulse of the blood in the vein in his neck. Those blue eyes were wide, and the pupils startling deep and dark pools. Dark water so deep that she knew that she could dive into them and never find the bottom.

      The intensity of that look was almost overwhelming and so mesmerizing that she could not break away.

      No other man had ever looked at her like this before but she recognized it for what it was, and her heart sang. It was desire.

      Seduction burned in Sean’s eyes. Hot and passionate and all-consuming.

      His desire for her.

      And it astonished her.

      Astonished her so much that she forgot to be scared of all of the chaos that love, desire and passion could bring and focused on the joy instead.

      He wanted her.

      He wanted her badly.

      And the huge red switch marked ‘danger’ that had been buried under a lifetime of disappointment and making do with second-hand love suddenly and instantly flicked up and turned green.

      She wanted him right back. On her single bed. And wearing Lottie’s posh frock. Forget slow, she wanted fast. She wanted it all and she wanted it now.

      It was almost a relief to turn in the circle of his arms so that she could not feel the burning heat of his intense gaze scorching her face.

      But that was nothing compared to what she saw when she opened her eyes fully.

      She was standing in front of her full-length bedroom mirror on the wardrobe door with Sean standing behind her.

      Instinctively she lifted both hands and pressed them to her chest as Sean slid Lottie’s black dress away from her shoulders