‘Great. Pie then, please.’ He stood up as he spoke and reached across for her plate which he piled on top of his own.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked quickly.
‘I’ll wash the dishes while you get the pie,’ he said offhandedly, as though the two of them squeezed into the limited confines of the kitchen was nothing at all to worry about. Which it probably wasn’t for him, Robyn reflected silently.
‘Don’t be silly, you’re the guest.’ She rose herself, reaching across for the plates, and then paused as he surveyed her with cool ice-blue eyes. ‘May I?’ She indicated to the plates with a brittle smile, determined not to be intimidated by his piercing perusal.
‘No, Robyn, you may not,’ he countered easily, before turning and making his way to the stairs.
Impossible, infuriating, arrogant man. Robyn stood for a moment more, her face mutinous, and then followed him down to the kitchen where, to her dismay, she saw him with his sleeves rolled up and his hands deep in soapy water. She stared at him, her whole stomach somersaulting. This was getting far too cosy and, worse, the touch of domesticity only served to heighten and accentuate the dark maleness at the heart of his attraction.
He turned to look at her, his expression mildly exasperated. ‘Stop frowning.’ And he turned back to the dishes.
‘I’m not.’ She knew she had been. ‘It’s just that I prefer to be in charge in my own kitchen.’
‘You cooked the meal; you’re getting the pie; you are in charge for crying out loud,’ he said irritably, his tone making it quite clear he considered this a pathetic conversation.
Short of wrestling him out of the place—which wasn’t an option—she had no choice but to accept defeat gracefully, Robyn conceded reluctantly, because this was a pathetic conversation! ‘Do you want coffee?’ she snapped abruptly.
‘Please. Black.’ He patently ignored her tone.
Once the custard was ready Robyn cut two pieces of pie and popped them into the microwave, just as the coffee machine began its chugging. Clay had wandered across to stand at the side of her, and now he gave the custard an idle stir in its bowl before surreptitiously bringing the spoon to his mouth.
‘Hey! I saw that.’ She was half laughing at the childish action as she turned to face him, and he grinned back at her, the laughter lines radiating from his eyes. And then, like the time in the car, their glances held and lengthened.
Robyn was aware of the ping of the microwave but for the life of her she couldn’t respond to it. One strong hand tilted her chin as the brilliant gaze continued to hold her fast, and then he pulled her closer to him, her figure slight against the height and breadth of his.
Slowly the black head bent and Robyn made no effort to try to evade his lips. Rhyme and reason had gone out of the window, her body was dictating events now. Languorously her head with its mass of high-bobbing curls fell back against the muscled curve of his arm, and his mouth was hard and urgent on hers.
She made a little sound deep in her throat and he answered it with one of his own, his hands moving down to shape her softness into his hard frame as her arms wound round his neck.
The kiss was almost savage in its intensity but Robyn’s mouth was as hungry as his, the frantic pulse beating at the base of her slender throat echoing the hard slam of Clay’s heart against his ribcage.
She was arched back, his body bent over hers, and his lips trailed over her throat and into the soft swell of her breasts before moving back to her mouth with renewed fire. She was taking in the wildly intoxicating scent of him and she could feel the blood singing through her veins, feel each separate pulse throb.
She had known it would be like this. As they continued to devour each other she was aware she was meeting him passion for passion but she felt no timidity, just a desperate need to get closer still. His hands were roaming over her body, moulding her into him and seemingly possessed of a feverish need to know every inch of her, and as hi
s fingers caressed her breasts through the material of the vest top she was aware of their peaks hard and aching beneath his flesh.
‘You’re so fresh, so beautiful…’ His voice was thick and throaty against her mouth. ‘I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I saw you again.’
She had wanted it too. Through the throbbing desire she was aware of her mind warning her about something, something important, but his hands and mouth were the only things that were real. She was melting, dissolving into him, and she couldn’t think.
When a phone began to ring somewhere it didn’t register on Robyn’s whirling senses until she felt Clay stiffen. He pulled her closer for a moment, as though in protest, but the sound went on and on and Robyn realised the ring wasn’t her phone.
‘My mobile.’ His lips had eased to a gentle caress and he gave her one last kiss before straightening and letting her go. ‘I’m waiting for a call from the States; I’d better take it.’
A call from the States? He could have been talking in double Dutch so completely was she unable to take it in.
She leant back against the kitchen cupboards and watched him leave the room, her head spinning and her knees weak with the force of the physical storm that had exploded within her.
His footsteps on the stairs informed her he was going to the sitting room where he had left his jacket, but it was a full minute before she could move, and then it was to only sink onto one of the stools under the small breakfast bar.
Had she completely lost her mind? She placed her hand on her heart which was pounding so hard it actually hurt. What had she been thinking of? She gave a little whimper and then froze at the sound. This was Clay Lincoln. Clay Lincoln. She shook her head and then reached blindly for the coffee pot, pouring herself a cup with shaking hands and drinking it straight down, black and scalding hot. It helped, a little.
‘It’s all right, it’s all right.’ She whispered the words to herself, walking over to the sink and wetting a piece of kitchen roll with cold water before dabbing her hot cheeks. It wasn’t as though they had ended up in bed or anything. Her heart gave an enormous jerk at the thought.
She had been crazy for a few moments, that was all, but it was the fault of the blistering sexual awareness Clay always evoked in her with so little effort. He was the one man, the only man who turned her emotions upside down and inside out so she didn’t know what she was doing.