Fire Beneath the Ice

"You see me as a high-flying socialite, is that it?"

"No--' She stopped abruptly as she saw the glimmer of amusement in the dark face watching hers.

"Not exactly," she finished weakly.

"I have a house in London close to Hyde Park, with _a garden that persists in rebelling against all efforts to control it," he said quietly, his eyes slumberous now as they stroked over her pale skin.

"My housekeeper lives in... with her husband," he added wickedly, as though she had voiced the suspicion that immediately sprang most unfairly to life.

"The house is an indulgence for a man living alone, but I loathe flats and, contrary to your suppositions, I much prefer eating at home, although I have to admit I rarely get the chance. I have two dogs and two cats inherited from my married years, all of which are geriatrics with enough idiosyncrasies to fill a book. Anything else you'd like to know?" he added blandly.

"I wasn't prying," she objected indignantly as hot colour flooded her face.

"Weren't you?" He eyed her lazily.

"How disappointing."

She stared at him without speaking, for the simple reason that she couldn't think of a word to say.

"I have a house in Madeira where I try to escape for at least a month every summer to recharge my batteries," he continued in the same quiet voice,

'although unfortunately it does have a telephone which I am seriously thinking of having taken out. Last year was a series of interruptions.

Every time I stretched out by the pool to take in a few rays, the damn thing went crazy. "

"Oh..." The thought of him barely clothed made her hot. And weak.

Definitely, deliciously weak.

"And that's about it in a nutshell." He spread his hands wide and leant back in his chair as the waiter came to remove their plates.

"Any surprises?" he asked expressionlessly.

"Not really." She was lying. She had seen him in a smart bachelor flat that was elegant and impersonal and _never, never in her wildest dreams had she imagined him bothering with any pets.

"What are the animals' names?"

"The dogs are retrievers. Honey and Muffin, and the cats are Meenie and Mo.

So there you are, you know it all now." He smiled dismissively.

"And how about dessert? The strawberry pancakes are especially good."

"Lovely, thank you." The change of subject was sudden and intentional and it hurt. His face was guarded now, his eyes hooded, and she sensed he regretted the brief intimacy had happened. She was just a ship that had passed, or was passing, in the night. She mustn't forget that.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of good food and light conversation, with Wolf acting as the perfect dinner companion, and although she knew it was an act, that he had deliberately set out to charm and entertain her on a superficial level, nevertheless she found she was enjoying herself immensely.

He was devastatingly witty and unashamedly wicked, his sense of humour in perfect tune with hers. They sat for some time over coffee and brandy, the latter accepted by her without a qualm as the soft, rosy glow of the evening lowered all her de fences and it was with a real sense of loss that the realisation the evening had finished washed over her. She couldn't remember enjoying herself more.

"Would you like more coffee in our suite?" Wolf asked quietly as he moved back her chair and took her arm as they left the restaurant, his hand firm and warm on her flesh.

"Oh, no, thank you, I shall never get to sleep as it is," she answered dreamily, her face upraised to his as she replied, and her hair silky-soft and pale as it framed her flushed skin and sparkling eyes.

"I have a perfect remedy for sleeplesness." The deep _voice was faintly mocking and definitely sensual, and as she met the narrowed eyes in which a small blue flame nickered her heart began to pound with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

She wanted to sleep with him. The thought was both shocking and intoxicating. She remembered the embraces she had shared with Matthew in those years that seemed so long ago, the lukewarm intimacy and careful, gentle familiarity that had nevertheless produced Hannah, and imagined what lovemaking with Wolf would mean. The blood ran through her veins like liquid fire and she felt a tightness in her lower stomach that caused her to stumble slightly. The hard hand on her arm checked the movement instantly and he drew her protectively into his side as they entered the lift, his body supportive.

"I forgot you don't drink;' His eyes smiled down at her but his mouth was sensual, and his lips lightly stroked her forehead as he folded her into his arms in the seclusion of the snug little box.