Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife. Элли Блейк
mouth still keeping contact, he followed her down and, when her lips parted helplessly, he deepened the kiss until her head was whirling even more and her whole being melted.
Without conscious volition, her arms went round his neck and she was holding on to him as if he were the only stable object worth anything in her world…
Her brain came to life slowly, consciousness ebbing and flowing. As she lay with closed eyes, she became aware that she was unusually warm and comfortable on the rather uncomfortable put-you-up.
And, what was even more unusual, her hair was loose around her shoulders—normally she braided it—and she was naked. Why wasn’t she wearing her nightdress? Unable to think, she let the thought go and drifted off again.
It was the sound of a shower running that eventually began to penetrate her stupefied state.
Ruth must be up early this morning. Usually she was last in the bathroom, preferring to breakfast in her dressing gown even on a weekday.
But surely this was the weekend? Hadn’t it been Friday yesterday?
Friday the thirteenth and everything had gone wrong…
Like a tide carrying flotsam, the events of the day washed into her mind and for a moment or two she sorted dazedly through them until she found the one thing that mattered above all else.
She had met Richard Anders.
The recollection banished sleep and focused her attention. A moment later, memory filled in the details with a rush.
The car accident, the invitation to go home with him, the drive to Pemberley Square, his kiss in the study, dinner together, brandy in front of the fire…Then him carrying her upstairs after saying with a strange intonation in his voice, ‘So you see we’re all alone.’
He had taken her into her room, laid her on the bed and kissed her goodnight…
But she had a vague memory of wanting him to stay, of kissing him back and putting her arms around his neck…Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright.
She was briefly aware that the room was light, sunshine slanting in through a gap in the curtains, then, the sudden movement making her head spin, she groaned and, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, pressed her fingertips to her temples.
‘Headache?’ a male voice asked sympathetically.
She opened her eyes again to find Richard just emerging from the bathroom. His dark, attractively rumpled hair was still damp from the shower and he hadn’t a stitch on.
The sight of that beautifully toned male body with its muscular chest and lean hips, its trim waist and taut belly, made her heart lurch wildly and her stomach tighten.
Oh, but he was gorgeous. A superb male animal.
As she gaped at him speechlessly, he strolled over and, bending, kissed her lightly on the lips as if he had every right.
As if they were lovers.
Which, no doubt, they were, otherwise what was he doing in her room stark naked?
Transfixed by the thought, she froze.
When, sitting still as a statue, she failed to respond to his kiss, he looked at her appraisingly, trying to sum her up.
He knew what kind of woman she was and, though he was sure that she wanted him, she wasn’t acting as he would have expected. Most of the women he had known would have twined their arms around his neck and done their best to coax him back to bed.
But, instead of trying to look seductive, she looked positively embarrassed, as if she wasn’t used to sleeping around.
Had she reacted like those other women, he would have accepted the invitation. Even first thing in the morning and with a hangover, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her neck was long and slender, her breasts small and firm, with dusky-pink velvety nipples that he felt the urge to stroke with his tongue…
Realising that his eyes were fixed appreciatively on her breasts, in a panicky reflex action she jerked up the duvet to cover her nakedness.
A gleam of amusement in his eyes, he said, ‘I’ll get you something for that headache.’
As he turned and walked to the door, she caught her breath at the seductive back view of his tall, well-built figure.
His skin, with its golden all-over tan, was clear and glowed with health, his shoulders were broad, his buttocks firm, his long legs strong and straight. The line of his spine was elegant. Even the back of his neck, with the damp hair trying to curl a little into his nape, was sexy.
The thought of the housekeeper catching sight of him leaving her room naked made Tina exclaim, ‘But what will Mrs Baxter think if she—’
Further amused by this show of propriety, he turned and said, ‘I’m not expecting her home for a while. I told her I’d rustle up some breakfast and she could take as much time as she needed. So no doubt she’ll stay and feed her flock.’
Grinning, he added, ‘By the time she gets back, rather than shock her, I’ll be dressed and my bed will look suitably slept in.’
A second later the latch clicked and he was gone.
With a strange hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach that she identified as shame, Tina sat and stared at the closed door.
Last night she had obviously waved goodbye to her principles and enjoyed what Ruth had called ‘one of life’s most wonderful experiences’ and she couldn’t remember a thing.
Now, as well as feeling ashamed, she felt cheated.
If she hadn’t had too much to drink…
But if she hadn’t had too much to drink, she reminded herself grimly, she wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place.
She knew from the way her contemporaries talked that that kind of thing wasn’t uncommon, but she had never expected it to happen to her.
Well, now it had and it was too late. What was done couldn’t be undone. She would just have to live with the shame.
She bit her lip.
If they had known and loved one another it would have been different…Or if there’d been any promise of a serious relationship…
But neither of those things applied.
It had been purely and simply a one-night stand. On his part, at least.
From a kaleidoscope of emotions, anger and dismay and regret at her own behaviour stood out.
She almost wished she could say he’d taken advantage of her but, recalling the way she had put her arms round his neck and clung to him, in all honesty she couldn’t.
He must think she was easy, that this was her usual behaviour. Cringing, she wondered how she was going to face him.
And he would be back before too long.
The mere thought turned her insides into a quivering mass of jelly.
Trying to get a grip, she told herself bracingly that she was bound to feel better, more confident, when she had showered and got dressed.
Averting her gaze from the chair that held last night’s discarded clothes, she stumbled out of bed. The movement made her temples pound so violently that for a moment she was forced to stand with her eyes shut, too dizzy to move.
When the world stopped spinning, she located her clip on the bedside cabinet and fastened her hair on top of her head.
Then, moving more carefully now, both for the sake of her head and her ankle which, though a great deal better, still wasn’t quite right, went into the bathroom to clean her teeth and shower.
While the hot water and lavender-scented gel flowed slickly over her bare flesh, it occurred to her that, in