She was sure her face lost some of its colour. To see him here in her home again, after all this time! She glanced nervously up the stairs, although there was no sound from her father’s room.
Jarrett’s mouth twisted derisively as he saw that worried glance. ‘Shall we go into the lounge?’ He led the way with a confidence that spoke of past familiarity, his welcome assured then.
But it wasn’t now! Dear God, did Bethany have no sense? It seemed not; her sister still had that dreamy enthralled look in her eyes.
Jarrett seated himself in an armchair with a confidence that knew no limits, resting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other, his gaze steady and assured as he looked up at the two standing women.
‘I—er—I invited Jarrett in for coffee.’ Bethany at least seemed compelled to talk.
‘Really?’ Sian said stiffly, having no intention of going to bed and leaving Jarrett alone down here with her sister. She remembered too many occasions in the past when she and Jarrett had been stretched out side by side on that sofa, their lovemaking silent but impassioned while her father and sister slept on unaware upstairs.
Jarrett’s gaze was narrowed on her face, his brows raised questioningly as her thoughts made her blush. ‘I suggest you go and make that coffee, Bethany,’ he said deeply. ‘For three.’
‘None for me,’ Sian refused abruptly. ‘It’s getting rather late, Bethany,’ she added pointedly.
Her sister flushed resentfully. ‘Jarrett?’
‘I’d like coffee,’ he drawled challengingly.
With a defiant look in Sian’s direction Bethany went off to the kitchen.
Sian was very conscious of being completely alone with Jarrett, of him sitting only a few feet away. And she didn’t like it, she had a feeling of being manoeuvred.
‘Your fiancé has gone?’ he asked softly.
She kept her face stiffly averted. ‘Yes.’
‘He knew about us.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘Yes.’
Jarrett stood up, at once seeming predatory, and Sian took a wary step backwards. His mouth twisted derisively. ‘I never needed to use force on you, Sian,’ he drawled mockingly.
‘You would now,’ she snapped.
‘If I were interested,’ he watched with satisfaction as she paled, ‘and I am,’ he added softly. ‘I telephoned you earlier tonight, as soon as I got to town, but you weren’t at home,’ he told her huskily, suddenly very near, the heat of his body, the seduction of his aftershave, reaching out to her.
Sian refused to look at him. ‘Why on earth would you telephone me?’ she asked jerkily.
Suddenly he was more than just close, he was dangerously so, the lean length of his body curving into the back of her as his arms came about her waist and pulled her into him. ‘Guess,’ he murmured throatily against her earlobe.
SHE couldn’t stand it, couldn’t bear his proximity. Her legs felt weak, her heart was beating a wild tattoo against her rib-cage, her breathing so shallow she hardly breathed at all.
She felt his hands slowly start to move towards her breasts, and with a strong tug she moved quickly away from him, putting some distance between them as she stood behind a chair, seeing Jarrett’s eyes gleam with mockery at the gesture; no chair would save her from him if he wanted her back in his arms. He made no effort to do so.
‘I can guess all too easily,’ she snapped.
‘I doubt it.’ His eyes were narrowed.
‘Oh, but I can,’ Sian scorned. ‘You wanted a woman to keep you company your first evening back in Swannell. I’m only too pleased Bethany could accommodate you.’
‘You aren’t pleased at all,’ he mocked. ‘And it would have been you I took out to dinner if you’d been at home when I telephoned.’
‘How fortunate for me that I wasn’t here! And for you too. You see, I would have refused to go anywhere with you.’ And she had a sneaking suspicion that she had been at home for at least part of Jarrett’s conversation with Bethany, remembering the haste with which her sister had ended her telephone call when Sian had got in from work.
Her sister needn’t have worried, she certainly wouldn’t have accepted an invitation from Jarrett. But if she had known Bethany had she would have tried to prevent her seeing him. Maybe her sister had known that, and felt it wiser to keep silent about the call. She had a feeling that was nearer the truth.
‘I trust my sister has been suitably impressed,’ she said contemptuously. ‘But of course she has—you made sure of that. You can switch your charm on and off like a tap when it suits you to,’ she recalled bitterly. ‘Only I have no intention of standing back and letting you hurt my sister.’
‘The way I hurt you,’ he finished hardly.
‘Exactly,’ she snapped, gold flecks shining deeply in her hazel eyes.
‘And how about the way you hurt me?’ he rasped coldly. ‘Or don’t we talk about that?’
‘Hurt you?’ she derided scornfully. ‘You can’t be hurt, Jarrett. Only people with feelings and emotions can be hurt. And you don’t have either!’
His face showed he was blazingly angry, his mouth a thin taut line. ‘And you don’t have an ounce of trust in your body,’ he ground out. ‘If you had you would have believed me about Nina Marshall three years ago!’
She turned away. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘You never did,’ he wrenched her round roughly. ‘And because of my damned pride I didn’t see why I should keep explaining myself to you.’ His eyes glittered down at her like twin jewels. ‘Has your distrust kept you warm at night, Sian? Has it told you it loves you? Has it made love to you until your head spins? Has it done any of that?’
She paled more with each groaned taunt, and turned away, refusing to listen to any more of this torture.
But Jarrett would have none of that, his fingers biting into her arm as he made her listen to him. ‘Because my pride hasn’t given me any of that, Sian—’
‘I’m sure your women have!’ she dismissed coldly. ‘As Chris has me.’
Jarrett’s face darkened with an ugliness she had thought never to see again, his mouth twisted with fury, his eyes two shafts of burning light as they blazed down at her in total anger. ‘Is he your lover?’ he ground out.
She flushed. ‘I don’t see what that has to do with you,’ she challenged.
‘Don’t you?’ he returned softly, dangerously. ‘If his body has mated with yours—and I refuse to call it making love,’ he added harshly at her gasp of outrage. ‘I made love to you,’ he claimed arrogantly. ‘No other man could ever do that.’
‘You arrogant—’
He sighed, shaking his head at her vehemence. ‘A person can only find that true oneness with another person once in a lifetime. We both know that we were that for each other, and no amount of denial on your part can change that.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст