The Lawyer's Contract Marriage. Amanda Browning

telling the truth, so her options were limited. Of course, she could declare baldly that she didn’t want to see him any more, but Ransom was not the kind of man to accept that without a good reason. In the cold light of dawn, she had known that she would have to end their relationship in such a way that he would not want to see her again. The only way to do that was to make him hate her. However, she would only be able to put on a creditable performance once, so she had to get it right the first time.

      Hands on her shoulders made her jump and look up. Ransom stood there, smiling down at her, and as her heart turned over he stooped and pressed a kiss to her startled lips.

      ‘You were miles away. What were you dreaming about?’ he asked her as he sat down opposite. Reaching across the table, he took one of her hands and held it between his own.

      Sam gave a little shrug. ‘Nothing, really. Just this and that.’

      One eyebrow quirked. ‘And here I was thinking you were dreaming about me.’

      He made her smile, something she hadn’t felt like doing all morning. Lord, but she was going to miss him so much. ‘I don’t want you to get big-headed.’

      Ransom grinned wickedly. ‘Meaning you think I’m perfect as I am? Well, now, I can’t argue with that.’ He stared at her, taking in every feature, and shook his head. ‘You are so beautiful. I can’t get over how beautiful you are.’

      Sam uttered a tiny laugh, amazed at how easily he could take her breath away. ‘I’m not beautiful.’ She considered herself ordinary. There was nothing special about a swathe of silver-blonde hair and a pair of large blue eyes. Not having a vain bone in her body, she thought of herself as moderately attractive rather than beautiful. Her bones were fine, but her features were cool rather than animated. She had no idea that her smile transformed her face, making many a man do a double take. As for her figure, she had always considered that average at best. She went in and out in the right places, but a model she was not.

      ‘You are to me,’ he contradicted, holding her gaze with his intense one.

      ‘You’re only saying that because you think it will get you somewhere,’ she teased him back, whilst inside she could sense the numbness melting away.

      Laughing, he released her hand and picked up the menu. ‘You’re right, young woman. I have definite plans for you.’

      ‘Oh, yes? I’ll have to check my diary to see if I’m available,’ Sam replied, feeling her heart squeeze tightly.

      ‘You will be,’ he told her confidently.

      His confidence was unbearably painful, and Sam stared down at her own menu, though the words were unfocussed. She had planned to tell him goodbye here, where the restraints of being in public would limit what he could say, but she knew she couldn’t do it. The numbness was wearing off second by second now that he was here. Everything he said had her control slipping, so if she tried to reject him she would only end up in tears and that would never do. It was the wrong moment. She had to regroup and try again another time.

      ‘I’ve been thinking,’ Ransom broke into her troubled thoughts, and she looked up to find him watching her over the top of his menu. ‘I have some leave left, and you must have some too. Why don’t we go off together for a week? We could drive down to the coast and I can initiate you into the joys of sailing. What do you think?’

      ‘I didn’t know you were a sailor,’ Sam remarked in surprise.

      Ransom grinned. ‘You don’t know everything about me yet,’ he teased. ‘If you must know, I could sail before I could walk, so my mother tells me. I love it, but I don’t have a boat of my own yet. One day I will, then we’ll sail off around the world together and not come back until we’re good and ready. What do you say?’

      It was a wonderful dream, and she only wished she would be sharing it with him. ‘It sounds perfect, but we should try the week first in case I turn out to be a bad sailor.’

      ‘That’s a deal, then,’ he declared happily, and returned to studying the dishes on offer. ‘What are you having?’ he asked, and Sam forced herself to focus on the menu.

      ‘A pasta salad, I think,’ she decided. Something light that wouldn’t choke her when she tried to swallow.

      ‘Mmm, I’ve a fancy for pasta myself. What if we—?’ Whatever he was about to say ended abruptly as the beeper he carried with him went off. ‘Damn,’ he muttered under his breath as he pulled it from his jacket pocket and studied it. When he glanced up, his expression was rueful. ‘Sorry, darling, but I’ve got to go. It’s from Ian, which means the jury must be coming back. Listen, you’re having dinner with me tonight. Eight o’clock my place. Don’t be late!’ he commanded, leaving her no time to argue as he stood up, kissed her quickly then hurried to the door and was gone.

      Sam let out a shaky breath and sank back in her seat. This was awful. Here he was making plans for a future they would never have, and she hadn’t had the strength to tell him. Tonight she would have to be firm, for it wasn’t fair to him. She had to nip everything in the bud before it went too far. The prospect took away what was left of her appetite, so she dropped some money on the table and left. A condemned person, she was coming to realise, rarely ate a hearty meal.

      That evening she drove herself to Ransom’s flat in a mood of steely resolve. She had spoken to her parents that morning and resisted all their attempts to persuade her to change her mind. When she contacted them again later, they had signed the agreement, and arrangements were already being made for Tony to go and stay with relatives in Australia. Which left only herself with unfinished business.

      Of course, it would probably have been easier to simply phone him and say she couldn’t see him any more, but that seemed like the coward’s way out. He deserved she should tell him to his face. What she said would have to give him no room for hope, because there wasn’t any. Sam knew that the best she could do for him now would be to make him never want to see her again. She had to think only of causing him the least pain, not on shielding herself.

      Ransom took a moment or two to answer the door, and she had to smile when he did. He was wearing jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Around his waist he had tucked a tea towel, and she realised he was cooking dinner himself. A curl of hair had fallen over his forehead, and to Sam he looked endearingly handsome.

      He, in turn, looked her over and she saw the flicker of flame in his eyes. Clearly he liked what he saw. She had chosen to wear a sapphire-blue lacy top to match her eyes and black evening trousers to seduce him. It had been important to make herself look good for the task ahead of her. It was meant as a confidence booster.

      ‘I don’t know whether to eat dinner or you,’ he declared huskily as he shut the door with one hand and pulled her against him with the other. His arms tightened around her as he lowered his head and kissed her.

      Though it wasn’t what she had planned, Sam couldn’t help but kiss him back in silent desperation. One kiss was not enough, and as others followed passion deepened. As their teeth nipped and tongues duelled and incited, she could feel her body turning molten with desire. She wanted him so badly and needed him so very much, and yet she dared not go further. It wouldn’t be fair or right.

      A thought that finally gave her the strength to break off their kiss and ease herself to arm’s length. ‘You invited me here for dinner, not to be dinner, remember,’ she told him in a breathless voice, knowing she looked thoroughly kissed.

      He lifted his hands to her shoulders, his smile rueful. ‘You can think of food at a time like this?’

      Sam glanced towards the kitchenette and wrinkled her nose. ‘I think you should too. Something’s starting to burn.’

      Ransom released her immediately and hurried into the small kitchen. He removed a frying pan from the heat and checked the contents. ‘It’s OK. Just a little singed around the edges. It’s your fault for making me forget about everything else,’ he called back to her.

      Sam was eying the table he had set. There were