Australian Affairs: Claimed. Margaret Way
idea you could play like that.’
‘I’m not that good,’ she said. ‘I need to do much more practice.’
‘Well, from my end it certainly didn’t sound as if any cats were being tortured.’
She gave him a sideways glance. ‘Thanks.’
‘How long have you been playing?’
‘I started when I was six,’ she said. ‘My parents wanted me to experiment with a whole range of instruments, but I only ever wanted to play the violin. I finally wore them down.’
He gave her a crooked smile as he led the way out to the car. ‘Not many kids nag their parents to learn a classical instrument,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it normally the other way around?’
‘I know,’ Kitty said wryly. ‘I think I’m a throwback. My parents are quite ashamed of me for being so conservative. I haven’t got a single piercing or a tattoo. I don’t even dye my hair.’
‘Why would you want to?’ he said. ‘It’s fine the way it is.’
‘It’s boring.’
He stopped, reaching out and picking up a stray lock of her hair. He coiled it around his finger. ‘It’s not boring,’ he said. ‘It’s beautiful—especially when it’s loose like this.’
Kitty felt the voltage of his touch all the way down the shafts of her hair to the skin of her sensitive scalp. The skin on her body tingled in sharpened awareness as he came that little bit closer.
Her breasts tightened behind her clothes.
Her breath stalled in her throat.
Her pulse rate escalated.
Her mind turned to mush.
The warm fragrant night air cast its spell of seduction around her, making her forget everything but the way his mouth had felt on hers. She felt the hard tug of attraction deep in the pit of her belly, pulling her towards his body like a magnet does a tiny iron filing.
‘I should get you home,’ he said as he stepped back from her.
‘Yes…I’ve taken up far too much of your time as it is.’
Kitty was acutely aware of him sitting so close to her inside the confines of his car. Her gaze kept tracking to his tanned arm as it worked the gear shift. And his muscular thigh as it bunched and released when he pressed down on the clutch. She imagined those muscles in the throes of passion. She imagined those hands exploring her body, touching her in places that made the breath hitch in her throat. She remembered the intimate stroke of his tongue and wondered what it would feel like to have it lick and stroke her breasts or between her thighs. She had never felt comfortable enough to allow Charles to explore her so intimately. But somehow she sensed that nothing would be offlimits to Jake Chandler. He would be a masterful and exciting lover—and a demanding one. She had felt it in that disturbingly erotic kiss. Her body had responded with such fervency to the head-spinning experience of his mouth commandeering hers. It had probably been just another kiss to him, but to her it had been a revelation. It had shown her how out of control her needs could be given the right inducement.
She had never thought of herself as a particularly passionate person. She had put her lacklustre love-life with Charles down to a mixture of long-term familiarity and the exhausting demands of their careers. But in Jake Chandler’s arms she had been transformed into a wild woman with even wilder needs. She thought again of what would happen if she gave in to those needs. So many young women her age enjoyed casual flings. It was part of life these days. She was becoming a bit of an anachronism with her white picket fence and pram mentality. Why couldn’t she have the same freedom as other girls her age? It wasn’t as if she had to fall in love with him. He was hardly likely to fall in love with her. Could she be brave enough to step out of her comfort zone and live a little?
Jake’s phone rang and he answered it via the Bluetooth device on the steering wheel. ‘Jake Chandler.’
‘Hi, Jake, it’s Tiffany. Remember me?’
‘Tiffany…’ He scratched his jaw. ‘From the gym, right?’
The woman gave a tinkling laugh. ‘That’s the one,’ she said. ‘Are you up for a drink some time?’
Kitty rolled her eyes and looked out of the window, a fist of jealousy clutching at her insides. What a silly fool she had been to think he would wait patiently for her to make up her mind.
Of course he wouldn’t wait.
He probably had a waiting list of potential lovers. She was just a temporary diversion from his usual list of candidates. Her temporary appointment at St Benedict’s gave him a perfect get-out clause—a three-month affair with no strings.
‘Yeah, why not?’ Jake was saying. ‘How about tomorrow at Brad’s place? Shall we say around nine?’
‘Lovely,’ the woman said. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
‘See you then, Tiffany,’ he said. ‘Ciao.’
Kitty threw him a look of disgust. ‘You could have at least waited until I was out of the car before you planned your next seduction.’
‘We’re just meeting for a drink,’ he said.
‘You don’t even remember who she is, do you?’
‘I can picture her,’ he said, frowning as if trying to recall. ‘Blonde hair, long legs, nice smile.’
‘Have you slept with her?’
‘Not yet.’
Kitty’s insides clenched again. ‘What’s stopping you?’
‘There’s the little matter of a thousand bucks, for one thing,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to lose a bet like that unless I’m sure it’s going to be worth it.’
Did he think she would be worth it? Kitty wondered. Could it be possible that he found her just as exciting and tempting as she found him? It had certainly felt that way while he was kissing her. She had felt the powerful charge of his desire. His body had left an imprint on hers she could feel even now.
‘And the other thing is I like to be the one who does the chasing,’ he added.
‘Isn’t that a little old fashioned of you?’
He flashed her a quick grin as he swung his car into the car park. ‘Look who’s talking, Miss Nineteenth Century.’
As soon as the car drew to a halt Kitty opened the passenger door. ‘Thank you for taking me,’ she said stiffly. ‘I hope I didn’t disrupt your plans for tonight too much.’
‘It was fine,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed myself.’
‘Goodnight.’
He waved a hand. ‘‘Night.’
‘STUPID, stupid, stupid,’ Kitty berated herself as she cleansed her face in her bathroom a few minutes later. ‘What were you thinking?’ She grabbed a bunch of tissues and savagely wiped off her cleanser. ‘Miss Nineteenth Century. What a jerk!’
The doorbell sounded.
Kitty tossed the tissues in the bin and went down to open the door—to find Jake standing there with her violin case.
‘You forgot something,’ he said, holding the case out to her.
‘Oh…’ She took it from him with a sheepish look. ‘Thanks.’
‘I called my mate about your car,’ he said. ‘I told him I’d drop it off at his workshop once I get the battery charged.’
‘Thank