‘What you made clear, Kay, was that you need to be kissed,’ he said with outrageous equanimity. She had also revealed—unwittingly but absolutely—that this ex-husband of hers had been the sort of man who took rather than gave. She might have the twins as proof that she was not unaccustomed as to what transpired between a man and a woman, but he would bet his bottom dollar that she was sexually unawakened.
He felt his body leap in response to the thought, hardening as it had done when he had held her. Was she freckled all over? he asked himself. He intended to find out. But he wouldn’t rush her; she was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof as it was.
‘I do not need to be kissed!’ She had followed him halfway down the path, her voice a low hiss. ‘And I especially do not want to be kissed by you.’ Her voice was all the more adamant because she was lying t
o herself as well as him.
‘Then I’ll have to work on that,’ Mitchell murmured thoughtfully. ‘Every woman should want to be kissed.’
For goodness’ sake! His skin must be inches thick, or perhaps it was just a giant ego that couldn’t take no for an answer? ‘That’s such a typical male comment,’ she said as scathingly as she could.
‘There is nothing typical about me, Kay, as I intend to show you, but all in good time. For now I’m suggesting nothing more threatening than a good meal and a relaxed evening where you can unwind a little. You’ve obviously forgotten how to have fun but fortunately I know how to remedy that.’ He smiled as if his words were perfectly innocent but she had seen the gleam in the back of his eyes. ‘I’ll pick you up later and don’t bother to dress up, this place is very low-key. And before you object again—’ he had seen her open her mouth in protest ‘—I’m not above using force to get my own way. Would you really like to upset the twins by letting them see their mother carried off kicking and screaming?’
‘That’s blackmail.’
‘Dead right it is, and very useful at times.’
She glared at him, the last of the evening sunlight catching the red in her hair and turning it to living flame. ‘You’re despicable,’ she ground out through clenched teeth.
‘Like the song, “Baby, You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet”.’ He grinned at her, totally unabashed, and turned, striding off down the path and out of the gate without a backward glance.
Kay stood for some moments in the quiet of the evening, but apart from a dog barking in the distance somewhere and the sound of children calling to each other she heard nothing. Wherever he had stationed his car it wasn’t close enough to hear the engine start.
She walked to the end of the path, leaning on the gate as she glanced up and down the quiet tree-lined street in which they lived. She had loved this street as soon as she had seen it; it was a higgledy-piggledy hotchpotch of houses, some small and some large, detached, semi-detached and even a small row of terraced Victorian houses at the very end of the road, and her tiny detached property sat right in the middle of it all.
Bruised and heartsore as she had been when she’d first come here, she had known instantly that the minute house was meant to be hers. It was tranquil, the whole street was tranquil and that was rare in this modern age. And now the tranquillity had been shattered! She frowned as the image of a hard, handsome face with eyes as cold as a moonlit sea flashed onto the screen of her mind. He’d had no right to come here, no right at all, but then she suspected Mitchell Grey was a man who took no account of right if it suited his purpose not to.
She moved restlessly as her heartbeat quickened at the thought. Why had she gone to his offices that day? Why couldn’t it have been Peter or Tom who’d delivered the wretched document? She didn’t want this, not any of it. He had said they were two of a kind but that was so untrue. He was as free as a bird but she had her precious babies to consider, and Georgia and Emily would always come first.
The dusk was thick now, the birds in residence in the trees overlooking the road jabbering in annoyance when a latecomer disturbed their bedtime. She stood for a moment more, trying to capture the feeling of peace and contentment she normally felt on such sojourns, but it was no good.
Sighing irritably, she turned back towards the house, glancing at her watch as she did so. Five o’clock. In three hours he would be here again, expecting her to go out with him. In spite of herself her pulse quickened. Well, she would go with him but she’d make sure she spelt out where she stood even more plainly than she’d done already. She was a mother, with commitments—not one of the carefree, sophisticated women of the world men like him favoured. And she didn’t want to have ‘fun’, as he’d put it. She wanted…
Oh, she didn’t know what she wanted, she admitted crossly as she pushed open the front door, but it wasn’t Mitchell Grey.
If Kay had but known it, Mitchell’s thoughts were very similar to her own as he sat in the back of his car, staring moodily out at the shadowed scene beyond the window as the big vehicle ate up the miles.
Why on earth had he pursued this thing once the mother had told him Kay had children? This just wasn’t his scene at all. When had he ever had contact with tiny people? Never. He should have got out of there before she’d returned, but somehow he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do that. But this was crazy—he was crazy. Damn it, she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
He leant back in the seat, stretching his legs and shutting his eyes. What a fiasco of a day! He’d rescheduled the meeting with Jennings and postponed the visit to the docks at Southampton, which made the rest of the week damn awkward, and for what? A little slip of a redhead who wasn’t even particularly arresting and came with the baggage of two offspring and a mother to boot.
But there was something about her… He shifted in the seat, opening his eyes again. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was definitely something about her that was affecting him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
He shook his head, reaching for his briefcase and switching on the interior light as he pulled out a wad of papers that needed immediate attention. He would see her tonight and then make an end of it—decision made. He had an address book full of the numbers of women who would be only too pleased to spend an evening with him; Kay Sherwood was a complication he could do without. By this time next week he wouldn’t even be able to remember what she looked like.
But he knew he was lying to himself…
CHAPTER FOUR
‘YOU’RE not going out to dinner with Mitch dressed like that?’
Kay looked at her mother and sighed. The older woman had said very little about Mitchell’s visit since he’d left, but her silence had spoken volumes, not to mention her enthusiastic conversation with the twins about ‘the nice friend of Mummy’s’. Now Kay said mildly, ‘I’m twenty-six, not six, Mum, and more than capable of deciding what to wear. Okay?’
Leonora sniffed, gazing at Kay who had dressed after settling the twins in bed and had therefore just entered the sitting room. The black jeans and long-sleeved cashmere jumper in a pale shade of violet were obviously not to the older woman’s taste.
‘He said casual, remember?’ Kay reminded her. ‘We’re probably dining at the local fast-food place for all I know.’
‘Mitch would never take a date there.’