Phoebe wished she had never started this, but it was too late to back out now.
And, as Gib had so coolly reminded her, she was paying him good money for this. Why shouldn’t she ask him to kiss her? The fact that she had been thinking about it all evening was neither here nor there.
‘Shall we move back where your mother can see us more clearly?’ Gib was saying briskly.
Without waiting for an answer, he took her by the waist and manoeuvred her as if she were a rather unwieldy piece of furniture until they were on the edge of the light spilling out from the French windows, where they would be visible while looking as if they had meant to conceal themselves in the shadows.
In spite of his deliberately prosaic attitude, Phoebe’s senses jolted with anticipation as Gib’s hands tightened against her. Her heart was thudding in slow, painful strokes, and the excitement building inside her was so intense that she abruptly lost her nerve.
‘M-maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,’ she croaked, but she didn’t move and her hands seemed to be creeping up his arms as if they had a will of their own.
‘Oh, I think it is,’ said Gib in an odd voice. He pulled her close, and when his mouth came down on hers Phoebe’s momentary hesitation evaporated in a rush of sensation.
His lips were warm and sure and persuasive as they explored hers. He might not have been too keen on the idea initially, but it certainly didn’t seem to be too much of a hardship for him now. That might be a sign of a man expert in dealing with women, but Phoebe was beyond caring one way or another. She gave herself up to the sheer pleasure of being held hard against him and, as his hands drifted enticingly down her back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
God, it felt wonderful! It was all Phoebe could do to hang on to the last vestiges of her self-control but somewhere she found the will-power to unhook her arms from round his neck. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, and took a ragged breath.
‘I think that should do the trick,’ she said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FOR a split second, Gib looked blank, and then his hands dropped. ‘Right,’ he said tonelessly.
The momentary blaze of expression in his eyes gave Phoebe pause but, just as she was about to apologise, she saw him smile again, and the words dried on her tongue. He was a little too expert at this kissing business, she told herself. A little too cool in the way he took her in his arms, as if she was just the latest in a very long line of women who had begged him to kiss them.
‘Thanks,’ she said instead, steadying her voice with an effort. ‘That was fine.’
Gib’s smile faded. Fine? he thought savagely. She had melted into his kiss and kissed him back as if he was the only man in the world she wanted. She knew damn well it had been more than fine for both of them!
He couldn’t believe that she had really just been acting to convince her mother that they hadn’t had a row. Still, if that was the way she wanted to play it, it was up to her. He shrugged.
‘It’s all part of the service,’ he told her.
The coolness in his voice rather daunted Phoebe. He might at least pretend that it had been more than a rather tiresome part of his job!
Now he actually had the nerve to glance at his watch. ‘Do you think we’ve spent long enough out here, or do you want to kiss again?’ he asked in a bored tone.
Phoebe couldn’t help flinching. He obviously couldn’t wait to get inside. Probably terrified she was going to insist on being kissed again. Oh, God, what if he thought it was all an elaborate ruse to get her hands on him? After the way she had kissed him back, he must think that she was absolutely desperate and was probably even now making up excuses in case she threw herself at him in the night!
Mortified, she retreated behind an air of prickly hauteur. ‘No, I think that was quite enough,’ she said.
Back in the banqueting hall, it was obvious that her mother had seen the kiss and was looking satisfied. She didn’t even raise her eyebrows when Phoebe went to talk to friends on another table, leaving Gib with Lara.
On her mettle, Phoebe was on sparkling form. She was determined to show Gib that she was quite as unaffected by that kiss out on the terrace as he was. That meant keeping an eye on whether he was noticing or not but, infuriatingly, he hardly seemed to be aware of her at all.
He had loosened his tie and was relaxed in his chair, chatting easily to the others on the table. If nothing else, his part required him to look as if he cared where she was and what she was doing, thought Phoebe piqued, and when she saw him take to the floor with Lara, her eyes narrowed dangerously. They didn’t need to look as if they were having quite such a good time!
She was so busy trying not to watch Gib dancing with her sister that she hardly noticed when Ben joined the table where she was sitting. He and Lisa were obviously circulating. Phoebe listened with half an ear, laughing at all the right points, but her mind was on Gib, and Ben had to ask her to dance twice before he could gain her attention.
‘For old-time’s sake,’ he said.
Over his shoulder, Phoebe could see Gib laughing with Lara as they went back to their table, and she smiled brilliantly at Ben as she got to her feet. ‘That would be lovely!’
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