Millionaire's Woman

‘Wear gloves!’

‘I do, most of the time. But you can’t wear them for everything.’

‘True,’ said Jack, and turned to look at the mahogany sleigh bed visible through the open doorway to Kate’s room. ‘I assume that belonged to the famous Aunt Edith?’

She nodded. ‘Impressive, isn’t it! They make good copies these days, but this is the real McCoy. The auctioneer who came here to value the other furniture salivated when he saw it and offered me a good price, but I refused to part with it.’

‘Very wise. If he was salivating, the price was probably half of what it should have been.’

‘Cynic!’

‘Realist,’ he contradicted, and took her hands in his.

‘Shall I kiss them better?’

Kate stood very still, suddenly aware that the door to her bedroom stood open in invitation. She looked up into Jack’s eyes and felt her knees tremble.

‘Shall I?’ he repeated, his voice deepening.

Kate watched mutely as he lifted each hand to his lips in turn, the touch of his open mouth on her skin sending her pulse into overdrive. ‘Thank you,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Much better—’

The rest of her words were smothered against his mouth as Jack pulled her into his arms and kissed her hungrily, his lips and tongue so irresistible she melted against him, her heart pounding as his hands slid beneath her sweater. She felt a familiar, liquid rush of hot response as his kiss deepened and, without taking his lips from hers, Jack picked her up and carried her through the door of her room. But when he laid her down on the bed Kate rolled to the far side and stood up, shaking her head in vehement rejection.

Jack stood breathing heavily, his eyes hard as flint. ‘Why not?’ he demanded harshly.

Kate brushed past him out of the room and hurried down the steep staircase, her knees trembling. It was her fault. Jack Logan was a man, after all, and a man who had once been her lover. She didn’t blame him for wanting to make love to her, but she couldn’t let that happen. She wasn’t laying herself open to that kind of pain again.

Jack came into the kitchen behind her and picked up his jacket. ‘Kate,’ he said harshly, ‘all you had to do was say no.’

She turned on him, eyes flashing. ‘I know that.’

He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes angry. ‘Then why in God’s name make me feel like a rapist?’

She let out a deep, unsteady sigh. ‘I told you that friendship with me would be hard work, Jack.’

‘So you did.’

Kate eyed him uncertainly as he shrugged into his jacket. ‘If you’d rather I didn’t turn up tomorrow, I quite understand.’

He stared at her in disbelief. ‘And what reason will you give your friends for staying away?’

She bit her lip. ‘Migraine, stomach bug, whatever.’

‘And when Anna Maitland comes rushing here to check up on you?’

‘I don’t let her in because she’s pregnant and I might be contagious.’

Jack slid into his overcoat, looking at her steadily. ‘Kate, I vote we delete the past few minutes and go back to the supper we shared. I enjoyed the evening up to that point and, unless you were putting on an act, you did too.’

‘Of course I did.’

‘So stop behaving like an idiot and come to Mill House tomorrow as you promised.’ Jack’s lips twitched. ‘You know you want to see Lucy Beresford’s reaction to the house.’

Kate laughed unwillingly. ‘True. All right, Jack,’ she said, resigned, and looked at him squarely. ‘I apologise.’

‘For what, exactly?’

‘For being late with my no. It won’t happen again.’