In the Australian's Bed. Miranda Lee
as fragile as Dorothy. OK, so I won’t confess I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice. That would probably go down like a lead balloon. The second reason for this call is to check that you don’t get seasick.’
‘Seasick,’ she repeated blankly. She was still thinking of his wanting to hear the sound of her voice.
‘Yep, I’m planning on booking us a luncheon cruise on the harbour. That’s another reason for my early arrival over here. I wanted to find out what was available.’
‘Oh. Oh, how…lovely,’ she finished, having almost said how romantic.
‘I thought you might never have done that, living where you do.’
‘No. No, I haven’t. That’s very thoughtful of you, Jake.’
‘I cannot tell a lie. It wasn’t thoughtful. It was my next best softening-up trick. After this phone call.’
Angelina smiled. ‘You really are shameless.’
‘And you really are beautiful. Yes, I know, I shouldn’t have said that, either. I can’t seem to help myself with you. My mouth has a mind of its own. Have you told Alex about us yet?’
‘There is no us, Jake.’
‘About lunch with me, then?’
‘No.’
‘You’re only delaying the inevitable.’
‘Yes. I know that.’
She heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘Does that mean what I hope it means?’
‘Let’s just take one day at a time, Jake,’ she said.
‘Fair enough.’
‘See you at the booth at noon,’ she said, and hung up before she could say another single silly word.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JAKE watched her from a safe distance, Angelina totally unaware of his presence. He was a good thirty metres away from the Ambrosia Estate booth, with the milling crowds providing the perfect cover for his observation post.
She looked even more beautiful today than she had last Saturday. That dress was a stunner. But then, Angelina would look stunning in anything.
Woman was the right word to describe Angelina. So many girls these days were like stick insects. But not her. She was all soft curves and lush femininity. The two skinny blonde demonstrators working next to her in the booth looked positively anorexic by comparison.
Jake had been thinking about Angelina all week. She’d constantly distracted him at work and disturbed his sleep with dreams of the most erotic kind.
Last night had been especially erotic. He’d woken and reached for her in the bed—so real was the dream. But where he’d anticipated finding her warm and naked next to him, there’d only been a cold emptiness.
And to think she’d actually been here, in Sydney, last night, staying at the Star City hotel! This revelation had frustrated the hell out of him. If he’d known, he could have persuaded her to at least have dinner with him.
And she would have come. She’d virtually admitted to him over the phone this morning that she’d decided to give Alex the brush-off in favour of him.
Unfortunately, she’d also made it clear that he was still on probation. One day at a time, she’d said. He could not afford to rest on his laurels just yet. Or presume that she would say yes to more than a meal or two today.
Never in the last ten years had Jake had to be this patient with a woman. And never had he felt less patient.
His body was on fire, aching to be with her in the most basic way.
As his eyes roved over the silky dress she was wearing, his loins stirred alarmingly. He shifted away from the wall he was leaning against, taking several deep breaths and willing his flesh back to a semblance of control, and decency.
Suddenly, Angelina’s eyes started to search the crowd as though she was looking for someone. Despite it only being ten to twelve, Jake instinctively knew she was looking for him. With rather anxious eyes, he thought. Perhaps because that Wayne fellow was being a pest. Ever since Jake had taken up his vantage point five minutes earlier, the sales rep had been chatting away to Angelina, his slimy dark eyes all over her.
When the sleazebag actually had the temerity to reach out and lay a hand on Angelina’s bare arm, Jake decided that waiting till noon was not on. He forged forward, amazed at the wave of fierce emotion which had consumed him.
Not jealousy. He didn’t think for a moment Angelina fancied the guy. Jake had read her body language. He just couldn’t bear for any man to touch her like that. Or to undress her with his eyes the way that guy had been doing.
The thought that he’d been doing some undressing with his own eyes was a sobering one. Though Jake quickly dismissed any guilt with the added thought that it was different with him. He cared about Angelina. It wasn’t just a question of lust.
Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, making him feel almost ten feet tall.
‘Ready to go, darling?’ he said, firmly staking his claim.
Fortunately, Angelina didn’t give him one of those don’t-go-getting-carried-away-with-yourself looks she’d bestowed upon him last Saturday.
‘I just have to get my handbag,’ she replied eagerly.
Within thirty seconds, he was shepherding her away through the crowd, his hand resting possessively in the small of her back. Once they were out of sight of the booth, he rather expected her to tell him to keep his hands to himself.
But she didn’t.
Angelina knew she was being foolish. But ooh…the touch of Jake’s hand on her body was electric. His palm was like a hot iron, burning its way through her dress to her skin beneath. Heat radiated through her, making her feel as if she was glowing all over.
‘Thank you for rescuing me from that creep,’ she said as he steered her through the throng towards the exit.
‘My pleasure.’
‘I can’t stand touchy-feely men.’
‘Oops!’ His hand promptly lifted away.
‘Not you,’ she hastily assured him with an upwards glance. ‘I didn’t mean you.’
Their eyes met and Angelina knew she’d just crossed a line, that line which she had taken such pains to draw earlier, but which was now in danger of disintegrating entirely.
Her eyes ran over him, and she thought how utterly gorgeous he was looking in his trendy city clothes. No jeans for him this time. But not a suit, either. His trousers were a bone colour, not dissimilar to the cream in her dress. Very expensive by the look of their cut, and the lack of creases. His shirt was made in black silk, worn open-necked, with its long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Casual, yet sophisticated and suave, the epitome of the man about town, such a far cry from the Jake whom she’d ogled just as shamelessly sixteen years ago.
Only his eyes were the same. Still that same hard, icy blue, and still with the same intent. To get her into bed.
‘That’s a relief,’ he said, and his hand settled right back where it had been.
A shiver ran down Angelina’s spine. How would it feel if she had no clothes on at all? If she was lying with him, naked, in a bed, and he was sliding his hand down her back whilst the other was…?
She gulped the great lump which had formed in her throat and tried to find reasons for why his making love to her should never be allowed to happen. But none came to mind at that moment.
‘Did that guy say or do anything really offensive?’ Jake asked as he guided her out onto the wharf and into the sunshine. ‘Do you want to me go back and sort him out?’
Angelina