Escape By The Sea. Trish Morey

smiled as he tilted her chin with his other hand, his thumb stroking along the line of her jaw. ‘You see, it’s not that hard.’

      She blinked, looking confused. ‘I understand. I…I’ll be fine.’

      But he had no intention of ending the lesson yet.

      Not when he had such a willing and biddable pupil. ‘Excellent,’ he said, tilting her chin higher, ‘and now there’s just one more thing.’

      ‘There is?’ she breathed.

      ‘Of course,’ he said, once again drawing her closer, his eyes once again on her lips. ‘We just need to get that awkward first kiss out of the way.’

       CHAPTER FOUR

      SHE barely had time to gasp, barely had time to think before his lips brushed hers, so feather-light in their touch, so devastating in their impact that she trembled against him, thankful for both his solidity and his strength.

      More thankful when his lips returned, this time to linger, to play about her mouth, teasing and coaxing and stealing the air from her lungs.

      She heard a sound—a mewl of pleasure—and realised it had emanated from the depths of her own desperate need.

      Realised she was clinging to him, her fingers anchored in his firm-fleshed shoulders.

      Realised that either or both of these things had triggered something in Leo, for suddenly his kiss deepened, his mouth more punishing, and she was swept away on a wave of sensation like she’d only ever experienced once before. He was everywhere, his taste in her mouth, his hot breath on her cheek, his scent filling the air she breathed.

      And the feel of his steel-like arms around her, his hard body plastered against her, was almost too much to comprehend, too much to absorb.

      It was too much to think. It was enough to kiss and be kissed, to feel the probing exploration of his tongue, the invitation to tangle and dance, and accept that intimate invitation.

      How many nights had she remembered the power of this kiss, remembered what it felt like to be held in Leo’s arms? It had been her secret fantasy, fuelled by one heated encounter with a stranger, but even she had not recalled this utter madness, this sheer frantic expression of need.

      It was everything she’d ever dreamed of and more, that chance to recapture these feelings. And then he shifted to drop his mouth to her throat and she felt him, rock hard against her belly, and she shuddered hard against him, a shudder that intensified as he skimmed his hands up her sides and brushed peaked nipples in achingly full breasts with electric thumbs.

      She groaned as his lips returned to her mouth, a feather-light kiss that lasted a fraction of a second before the air shifted and swirled cold around her and he was gone.

      She opened her eyes, breathless and stunned and wondering what had just happened. ‘Excellent,’ he said thickly. ‘That should do nicely. Wait here. I’ve got something for you.’ He turned and disappeared into the other room. She slumped against the credenza behind her, put her hands to her face and tried not to think about how she’d responded to his kiss exactly like she had the first time. Drugged stupid with desire, shameless in her response to him.

      Excellent? Hardly. Not when in another ten seconds he could have had her dress off. Another twenty and she would probably have ripped it off herself in desperation to save him the trouble. And all because he didn’t want her to be nervous around him! God, how was she supposed to be anything but, especially after that little performance? Had she learned nothing in the intervening years?

      She’d barely managed to catch her breath when Leo returned, a tie looped loosely around his collar, a jacket over his arm, and an expression she couldn’t quite read on his face. Not the smug satisfaction she’d expected, but something that looked almost uncomfortable. When she saw the two small boxes in his hand, she thought she knew why and she didn’t feel any better.

      ‘Try these on,’ he said, offering the boxes to her. ‘I borrowed them for the night. Hopefully one should fit well enough.’

      ‘You borrowed them?’ she said, considering them warily, knowing what came in dangerous-looking little blue boxes like those. And if his words were a hint that whatever sparkly bauble she would wear on her finger wouldn’t be hers to keep, it wasn’t terribly subtle. But that wasn’t what bothered her. Rather, it was the artifice of it all, like they were gilding the lie, layering pretence upon pretence. ‘Is this strictly necessary?’

      He lifted her hand, dropped the boxes on her palm. ‘They’ll notice if you don’t wear an engagement ring.’

      ‘Can’t I simply be your girlfriend?’

      ‘Fiancée sounds much better. All that added commitment.’ He winked as he shrugged into his jacket. ‘Besides, I’ve already told them. Go on, try them on.’

      Reluctantly she opened the first. Brilliant light erupted from the stone, a huge square-cut diamond set in a sculpted white-gold band, inlaid with tiny pink diamonds. She couldn’t imagine anything more stunning.

      Until she opened the second and imagination took a back seat to reality. It was magnificent, a Ceylon sapphire set with diamonds either side. She had never seen anything so beautiful. Certainly had never imagined wearing anything as beautiful. She put down the box with the white-gold ring, tugged the other ring free and slipped it on her finger, hoping—secretly praying—that it would fit, irrationally delighted when it skimmed over her knuckle and nestled perfectly at the base of her finger.

      She looked down at her hand, turning it this way and that, watching the blue lights dance in the stone. ‘They must be worth a fortune.’

      He shrugged, as if it was no matter, using the mirror to deftly negotiate the two ends of his tie into a neat knot. ‘A small one, perhaps. It’s not like I’m actually buying them.’

      ‘No. Of course not.’ He was merely borrowing them for a night to help convince people he was getting married. Just like he was borrowing her.

      But even his ruthless designs couldn’t stop her wondering what it must be like to be given such a ring, such an object of incredible beauty, by the man you loved? To have him slide that ring on your finger to the sound of a heartfelt ‘I love you. Marry me,’ instead of, ‘Go on, try them on’.

      The sapphire caught the light, its polished facets throwing a dozen different shades of blue, the diamonds sparkling, and she felt her resistance wavering.

      With or without the ring, she was already pretending to be something she was not. Could she really make the lie worse than it already was?

      ‘Very nice,’ he said, lifting her fingers. ‘Have you tried the other one?’

      She looked down at the open box, and the pale beauty that resided there. ‘No real need,’ she said, trying to sound like she didn’t care as well as make out that she wasn’t bothered by his proximity, even though her fingers tingled and her body buzzed with his closeness. ‘This one fits perfectly.’

      ‘And it matches your eyes.’

      She looked up to see him studying her face. ‘You know you have the most amazing eyes, every shade of the sea and more.’

      ‘Th-thank you.’

      He lifted a hand to her face and swiped the pad of his thumb at the corner of her mouth. ‘And you have a little smudge of lipstick right here.’ He smiled a knowing smile. ‘How did that happen, I wonder?’

      Instinctively she put a hand over her mouth, backing away. ‘I better repair my make-up,’ she said, sweeping up her evening purse from the coffee table and making for the powder room. How had that happened indeed. She really didn’t need to be reminded of that kiss and how she’d practically given him a green light to do whatever he wanted with