The Crown Affair. Lucy King

Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes jerked up and met his just in time to catch something flaring in the brown depths. Barely a flash, but it was enough to set her heart galloping and her head spinning. And then she felt another part of his anatomy flaring and the bottom fell out of her stomach.

      Oh, good Lord.

      It wasn’t just her. He felt it, too. Laura’s heart thumped. Judging by the impressive evidence swelling against her hip, Matt was as attracted to her as she was to him. His head was moving forward. His eyes were darkening as they roamed over her face, lingering on her mouth before sweeping back up to meet hers.

      For a split second delight shot through her and then quite suddenly panic elbowed the delight aside and thumped her squarely in the chest. Her nerves started to twist into a tangled mess.

      Oh, God. If Matt did want her as much as she wanted him then she ought to leave. As soon as possible.

      Because if he did make a move and kissed her, she’d never be able to resist. One thing would lead to another and another and another, and before she knew it she’d be back where she started, assertiveness course or no assertiveness course.

      It would be even worse if he didn’t kiss her. Because then the danger was that what with her highly unstable behaviour of late she’d be the one to make a move.

      Either way the outcome would be a disaster of epic proportions.

      So why wasn’t she pushing him away? Why was she letting him get closer?

      Time seemed to skid to a halt and Laura couldn’t move. Matt’s hand came up to cup her face and her skin burned as if he’d branded her. Anticipation thundered through her and her bones melted. When he slid his hand up and threaded his fingers through her hair Laura couldn’t help lifting her face. Couldn’t stop her breath hitching and her lips parting.

      God, who cared if she couldn’t resist? If this was wrong, why did it feel so right? Her gaze dropped to his mouth and her heart hammered. Desperation to taste him clawed at her insides and she had to bite on her lip to stop another whimper of need escaping.

      ‘It doesn’t look as if you need stitches,’ he murmured, ‘but you’ll have quite a bump.’

      What?

      Laura froze. The whimper died in her throat. For a moment bewilderment besieged her brain. And then clarity dawned and she went scorchingly hot.

      Agh. The bump on her head couldn’t possibly be any bigger than the one she’d just had crashing back to reality.

      What on earth was the matter with her? How could she have got it so wrong? Thank God Matt had drawn back before she’d lost patience and grasped the initiative.

      At the thought of just how massive a fool she could have made of herself mortification roared through her and made her cheeks burn. God, was there no hope for her?

      Suddenly desperate to get away, Laura wriggled in his arms and pushed against his chest. When his arms loosened she stepped back. And nearly collapsed all over again.

      ‘Steady,’ he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and keeping her upright.

      Laura summoned strength to her watery limbs, shook herself free and forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘Look,’ she said with a calmness she really didn’t feel. ‘Thank you for catching me and everything, but you must be busy and I’ve imposed quite long enough. I think I should go.’

      Ten minutes ago Matt would have been first in line to agree. Now, with lust ricocheting around him so violently it made his head spin, he wasn’t so sure.

      He could still feel Laura in his arms, all that warmth and softness crushed up against him. Her scent, something light and jasminey, was still floating around inside his head. The memory of the smoothness of her cheek beneath his palm and the silkiness of her hair winding round his fingers made his hands itch to touch her again.

      When she’d looked up at him with those extraordinary eyes of hers, her mouth parting and her breathing shallow, practically inviting him to kiss her senseless, it had taken every ounce of control he possessed not to do exactly that. Quite apart from the fact that he’d decided he really couldn’t go there, she’d just banged her head. She might well have concussion.

      Matt gritted his teeth and fought back the desire to haul her into his arms. Maybe he’d banged his head, too. Maybe he had concussion. What else could be causing this pummelling urge to disregard his common sense, throw caution to the wind, drag her down to the sofa and sink himself inside her?

      It would be utter madness. He was about to disappear off to another country. He could promise her nothing even if he’d wanted to.

      But it would also be fantastic. Dynamite. It would certainly beat chopping logs the whole weekend. It had been too long since he’d had a woman in his bed and who knew when the opportunity would next arise? Who knew when he’d have the time?

      Desire pounded through him and his control began to unravel.

      ‘Matt?’ she said with a sexy kind of breathiness that had him envisaging her saying his name in a whole lot of other ways.

      At the images that spun through his head, the last vestiges of his resistance crumbled and Matt gave in. He wanted her. She wanted him. Why shouldn’t they go for it and to hell with the consequences?

      Ruthlessly ignoring the little voice inside his head demanding to know what on earth he thought he was doing, Matt tilted his head and gave her a slow smile. ‘I think you should stay.’