Kit had never seen a man look so adorable when he was angry, but Hal Treverne cornered the market in sheer adorability in her opinion—whatever his mood. However, right then she didn’t think he would appreciate her telling him so. The reason he was angry, she guessed, was because he couldn’t get around with the effortless ease he was accustomed to and it made him feel vulnerable.
She knew how frightening that was for anyone who strove to be in sole command of his destiny—especially when events didn’t always pan out as he wanted them to. Kit found it easy to empathise because she’d often felt that same sense of frightening vulnerability too. Especially when she’d lived at home with her mother and daily anticipated the rollercoaster existence they were living spinning even further out of control...
‘I don’t want to make you mad at me,’ she said.
Before she thought about the wisdom of her action she brought her hand down on the top of his head and lightly ruffled his hair. Just as she was about to draw away, Hal caught her by the wrist. Almost immediately his hold tightened.
‘Then don’t imagine that you’re the one in charge—because you’re not.’
Even as he warned her Kit saw that his golden eyes were no longer glinting with fury but with something else far more disturbing. Meeting his gaze, she felt as if she’d been steeped in a vat of warm honey.
‘One kiss,’ he murmured, the timbre of his voice lowering huskily. ‘One kiss and I’ll let you take me wherever you want to—even in this dratted wheelchair.’
She made a half-hearted attempt at freeing her wrist, but her arm had slackened weakly the moment Hal had taken it prisoner.
‘I told you—I can’t do that any more.’ Even to her own ears her answer sounded less than convincing.
His dark brows beetled in a mocking frown. ‘In my dictionary there’s no such word as “can’t”, sweetheart.’
‘I think you’ll find that there is. Maybe not in yours, but in most dictionaries the term is described as a contraction. Perhaps you need to update your volume?’
Even as she came back with the witty rejoinder Kit’s heart was hammering, because she knew that this was one situation where she wouldn’t get the better of him. Not this time.
‘You’re too clever for your own good, Kit Blessington. Now, shut up and let me kiss you.’
Pulling her down to him, he crushed her lips beneath the slightly rough, melting warmth of his own. With a surrendering gasp she allowed her mouth to be thoroughly captured, offering not the slightest resistance as his tongue swept its satin interior and his hands cupped her face. The taste and feel of him was like being given the keys to Nirvana. The pleasure he gave her was almost indescribable.
How was she supposed to keep to her resolve not to be intimate with him again? Hal Treverne was in her blood, like a raging fever that wouldn’t be cooled, and Kit knew she was fast becoming addicted to him. More than that, she realised, she was deeply in love with him. The thought wrenched a partly shocked, partly despairing groan from her. Despite her heartfelt vow not to, it seemed she was intent on repeating her mother’s reckless folly all over again.
‘We should—we should get going,’ she murmured.
With her legs decidedly unsteady, she stepped abruptly away from Hal and reached up to the hook on the coatstand for her warm sheepskin-lined jacket. Draping a purple scarf around her neck and loosely knotting it, she saw that Hal was fastening his suede jacket with a somewhat bemused expression on his face.
‘That kiss was like having a warming dram of whisky before we set out on our expedition into the cold.’ He grinned. ‘I can’t pretend I won’t be tempted to have another one on our return. Lead the way, Captain.’
With a charming, mocking salute, he defied her not to give him an argument.
CHAPTER TEN
THE WIND WAS particularly raw and unforgiving that day. As Kit briskly pushed Hal’s wheelchair along the smooth concreted paths in the park she knew that being forced to be static wasn’t helping him maintain his body’s warmth. He would have hated it, but she wished she’d brought a rug to tuck round him. She’d be willing to endure his angry glares if it made him feel more comfortable.
As if reading her mind, Hal piped up, ‘It’s warmer than this climbing a glacier! I can’t say I’m exactly bowled over by this expedition, Kit.’