Stranded, Seduced...Pregnant. Kim Lawrence
to admit it, his undeniable physical presence and strength had been comforting. Inside the confines of the room they were almost oppressive. Even if the face that was hidden behind the mask was pleasant or plain, with a body like his he was never going to fade into the background.
Long of limb and broad of shoulder, he looked all hard bone and lean muscle. It was as her slightly unfocused gaze drifted upwards from his feet that she became aware of his questioning posture.
‘What?’ she said, embarrassment making her voice accusing. Well, it was extremely embarrassing to be caught ogling a man’s body even if the scrutiny was totally objective.
‘I said would you close the…?’ Emitting an irritated sound, he clicked his tongue and leaned in towards her.
Neve instinctively shrank back, a strangled cry escaping her lips before she realised that he was just closing the door.
His hand still resting on the wall beside the doorjamb, he swept a concerned downward glance at her upturned features.
Neve looked at her feet and heard him say, ‘What’s wrong?’
She shook her head, still avoiding the dark gleam of his eyes through the slits of the mask. She felt deeply embarrassed by her stupid instinctive reaction.
Her instincts were still embarrassing her.
It was bizarre. She had to make a conscious effort to put one foot in front of the other; she was unable to stop shaking, half dead with cold and, despite all that, or hopefully because of it, she was conscious of the weirdest tug.
She had this insane impulse, not to draw back, but to lean into him. She was drawn to his sheer physical presence, his strength and the warmth of the big body. The longer he stayed curved over her, projecting this testosterone force field, the more difficult it was to resist the bizarre compulsion.
‘What did you think I was going to do?’
Neve shook her head mutely. He’d put his own interpretation on her silence, but what could she say? I thought you were going to kiss me.
What would it have felt like?
Appalled by the dreamy question that surfaced in her head, she gave a fractured sigh of relief when he straightened up.
Her hands, still crossed in a protective gesture over her heaving chest, fell limply to her sides. She watched through the screen of her lashes as he walked across the room.
There was something totally riveting about the way he moved.
Neve pushed the thought away and lowered her gaze to the chequered floor tiles. ‘You…you startled me.’
‘Relax, you are quite safe.’
The mockery in his deep voice made her squirm. ‘Nice to know.’
‘I admit you might scrub up well,’ he said, sounding insultingly doubtful, ‘but right now, cara, you are not, believe me, going to drive any man wild with lust.’ No man in his right mind, certainly, but Severo was beginning to doubt his own mental health.
The question was not why on earth did he want to kiss the tip of her red nose, it was why on earth was he here? He valued logic; he prided himself on his judgement—what sort of judgement had made him risk life and limb in a blizzard?
Did he really think she needed him to point out her deficiencies? ‘I suppose you like your women to be decorative and dumb.’ It was not a question, just a fact of life.
‘I can see you find my sex life fascinating, but can we leave this discussion for later?’
Struggling to maintain the illusion of dignity, she followed him through the door muttering under her breath. ‘It’s always nice to have something to look forward to.’
One thing that really got under his skin was the sort of woman who always had to have the last word.
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