The Mistress Scandal. KIM LAWRENCE

and it was a dangerously attractive sound—almost as attractive as the flash of very white even teeth in his dark face.

      ‘If I did that I might get arrested, or maybe my face slapped. Or maybe not …?’ He speculated. ‘The fact is,’ he said, allowing his thumbs to move in a soft, exploratory fashion over the angle of her firm jawline, ‘everything since that night has been a bit of an anticlimax—in the bedroom department. I told myself if I ever met you again I’d take you to bed for a week—a month—however long it took to get you out of my system. Until today I thought you were married …’

      ‘And that made a difference,’ she grated hoarsely.

      He really was absolutely incredible! Gabriel came right out and said things other people would blush to even think! A week! Her ribs felt in imminent danger of disintegration as her heart pounded thunderously within her tight chest. A month! The very idea! She felt sick—she felt something!

      ‘We’ve all got our little moral hang-ups,’ he murmured regretfully.

      ‘Some of us less than others,’ she responded faintly.

      She couldn’t believe he had the gall to talk about morals! But then her membership of the moral high ground was distinctly shaky under the circumstances, she recalled reluctantly.

      ‘You shouldn’t beat yourself up about our one-night stand,’ he soothed, ladling on the sardonic understanding with a heavy hand.

      ‘I wasn’t talking about me!’ she hissed.

      ‘You’re not as tall as I remembered.’

      ‘Sorry,’ she responded ironically. She’d probably disappoint him in a lot of other ways too. Not that she was going to put herself in a position where he could match his memories to reality.

      ‘No criticism implied. Only when we made love the first time—’

      ‘Had sex,’ she snapped. There had been no mention of love when he’d said she was the best sex he’d ever had! She listened with dismay to the unmistakable sound of bitterness in her own voice.

      ‘You were wearing those high heels. Now you’re not wearing anything nearly as sexy—in the shoe department, that is.’

      She would have glanced automatically towards her sensibly shod feet if he hadn’t had other ideas. As far as Gabriel was concerned she was looking at him until he decided otherwise.

      She flushed angrily at her own passive acceptance of this restraint. Anyone would think she was enjoying it. It was about time she made it quite clear this was definitely not the case!

      ‘Let me go!’

      ‘Kiss me, and I’ll think about it. I’m willing to risk the garlic …’

      It terrified her to realise how attractive she might have found this offer had the circumstances been entirely different.

      ‘You know you want to,’ he taunted softly. His eyes rested pointedly on the prominent outline of her nipples as they chafed against the thin layers of her clothes.

      It was then Alice kicked him hard on the shins. He was crude, vile and unforgivably correct about her feelings. She heard him grunt in pain as she turned and began to run. She’d only taken a couple of strides before a hand on her shoulder swung her around.

      ‘The offer still stands,’ he said, wrapping one arm firmly around her ribcage.

      His chest was rising, though not as rapidly as her own, which gave the impression she’d just done five thousand metres not five.

      It would be undignified to struggle, not to mention pointless. There was only one way to prove to him that she wasn’t the person he remembered—not really. That night had been the result of a set of freak circumstances; it couldn’t be repeated.

      Oliver had been her only lover until his death. They’d had an enjoyable sex life, familiar, pleasant and comfortingly predictable, at least until that dreadful last year, but it had never been going to set the world alight. She wasn’t that sort of person.

      She grabbed a handful of his shirt to steady herself, hooked one hand behind his neck and tugged his head down. She placed her lips firmly against his mouth with every intention until the final moment of contact to withdraw almost immediately.

      That was before a depth charge went off in her nervous system. The electrical flash extended all the way down to her curling toes. With a humiliating lack of hesitation, which she would later reflect upon bitterly, she accepted—even welcomed—the lustful lunge of his tongue into the moist recesses of her mouth.

      The texture of his lips, the taste of him, the marvellous proximity of his hard, lean, aroused body was a heady cocktail of sheer undiluted erotic bliss.

      ‘This is terrible!’ she gasped when, true to his word, Gabriel released her. Alice hugged her arms around herself protectively.

      Gabriel raked a hand through his thick sleek dark hair. For once he didn’t appear to have a slick retort to hand.

      ‘Why terrible?’ Alice didn’t notice that he sounded distracted.

      ‘Because I liked it.’

      Gabriel smiled and let the tepid like pass. ‘So did I.’

      She’d noticed, but she tried not to do so too obviously now, as she struggled to keep her fraught gaze on his face. The hot melting sensation between her thighs didn’t dissipate even when good taste won out over crude desire.

      ‘Is that a bad thing?’

      ‘I don’t do casual sex.’ The sardonic quirk of one eyebrow made her flush. ‘Normally.’

      ‘Neither do I … normally.’ Gabriel had never felt less casual in his life.

      ‘I have a son.’

      ‘Keep this quiet, only mothers have been known to have sex,’ he told her in sarcastic hushed undertones.

      ‘Not this one,’ she responded unthinkingly, with such feeling that he gave a deep growl of laughter. ‘I didn’t mean it like …’ she faltered, biting her lips in vexation. What a time to be spontaneous!

      ‘Then how did you mean it?’

      Gabriel watched as she opened her mouth several times—he could think of worse things to look at than the full soft outline—in an attempt to place a less controversial interpretation on her words before eventually lapsing into a pink-cheeked resentful silence.

      ‘Your last time was with me, wasn’t it?’ He wasn’t a vain man, but he couldn’t repress a strong surge of complacency.

      ‘I’m not in the market for an affair.’

      ‘After three years?’

      He made it sound extraordinary that she’d lasted three minutes. What did he think she was—a sex junkie? Taking into account how she’d behaved that night, Alice realised as a fresh wave of horror submerged her that that was exactly what he was likely to think.

      ‘Celibacy seems remarkably attractive when the alternative is sex with you!’

      ‘A challenge?’ he enquired silkily, looking in no way disturbed by her rash declaration.

      He sounded as though he’d enjoy making her retract her claim. The bad part was she knew that he could.

      ‘No, it wasn’t,’ she admitted stiltedly, already regretting her reckless response.

      ‘You lashed out—I make you panic.’ The air of benevolent understanding didn’t sit easily with the prowling hunger in his eyes. ‘I wonder why?’

      Alice exhaled noisily. ‘You can ask that? You calmly say you’re going to take me to bed for a week and I’m supposed to be calm. Panic!’ she squeaked indignantly. ‘Anyone would panic.’ She paused and drew breath into her hungry lungs.