The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection. Kelly Hunter

shallow? My answer is yes...they do.’

      They both fell silent for a while, each immersed in their unspoken reflections about the other...

      It was Gene who ended the lull in the conversation. ‘Before I get you that hot chocolate I’ll show you into a guestroom and you can change out of those wet clothes. Do you have a spare set with you? If not, then I’m sure I can find you something.’

      Surprised that he should be so considerate, Rose shrugged. ‘Yes, I do. I brought a change of clothes with me in case I had to book into a hotel before I returned. It’s a long journey to do in one day.’

      ‘Good. Then follow me.’

      As he guided Rose back out into the corridor and into the expansive area that housed the guestrooms—ironically for the guests he never invited—Gene knew a surprising pleasure at being able to help her to feel more comfortable. With her big violet eyes, her diminutive form and the dark hair that had been plastered to her head in the softly falling rain, she’d looked so small and delicate when he’d opened the door and found her standing there.

      To his amazement, his pulse had inexplicably quickened at the sight of her. He’d never experienced such an unexpected reaction to a woman before and, disturbingly, he didn’t think it was solely because she’d brought him the means to purchase the antiques shop building...

       CHAPTER FOUR

      RELIEVED TO FIND a hairdryer in the luxurious en-suite bathroom that accompanied the spacious guestroom, Rose sat on the capacious bed drying her damp hair. As the dryer blew welcome heat onto her scalp and neck she stared out through the surrounding bank of windows at the roiling sea and the ever more threatening darkening sky, her belly clenching at the thought of the storm that would very soon envelop them. She’d already witnessed one or two bolts of forked lightning in the distance and couldn’t help flinching.

      ‘Get a grip, Rose, for God’s sake!’ she scolded herself. But in truth it didn’t help to engender confidence when she was going to have to sit out the coming elemental furore with Gene Bonnaire. As soon as he saw that she was scared would he mock her?

      Recalling that he’d referred to the gathering storm clouds as being like ‘purple and black bruises’, she confessed to being surprised that he would use such a poetic turn of phrase. When he’d asserted that he had no interest in antiques whatsoever, Rose had wondered why they seemed to leave him cold. Couldn’t he see the beauty and artistry in their creation? It had bothered her that he couldn’t. Yet why refer to storm clouds as bruises in the sky? Didn’t that suggest there was something in him that saw beyond the material? Some innate sense that recognised the incomparable beauty and necessity of nature, knowing that it was the one thing nobody had any control over?

      Rising to her feet, she returned the hairdryer to its rightful place in the bathroom. As she turned she caught sight of herself in the generous-sized gilt-edged mirror. Her skin looked white as alabaster and the dark blue sheen in her black hair gleamed fiercely where it caught the light. Most of all, her violet eyes looked big and scared.

      What was wrong with her? Was it just the coming storm she was frightened of? Or was it the thought of spending time with Gene?

      Impatient with herself, she returned to the bedroom. After hanging her Arran sweater in a mirrored wardrobe whose doors swished open when she held her hand briefly over an electronic button, as her host had demonstrated, she donned the fresh pink woollen one she’d brought as a spare. Tugging it down over her jeans, she pinched her cheeks to instil a little more colour into them and then returned to the room that Gene had first taken her to.

      Rose was amazed when she found it easily. Clearly her sense of direction hadn’t let her down.

      She found Gene seated on one of the futuristic couches opposite the glass table, his elbows resting against his hard-muscled thighs as he stared out of the windows at the increasingly wild weather. Two steaming mugs were evident on the table as she approached.

      Glancing up at her, he smiled. Startled, she fell headlong into his sublime azure gaze and forgot her own name. She’d never seen a man as beautiful... More than that, she had never experienced the forceful sense of a desire so profound that it stopped her in her tracks and—frighteningly—made it hard to breathe...

      Gene’s heart jolted and plunged him into a reverie of lust and longing that was unprecedented. Transfixed by the sight of the petite and pretty woman in front him, dressed in a girlish pink sweater and fitted blue jeans, all he could do was stare. What was it about her elfin features and ethereal eyes that made it hard to think straight when he looked at her? She wasn’t a bit like any of the voluptuous women he was usually attracted to.

      Suddenly aware that her appearance had rendered him momentarily dumb, he cleared his throat. Then he reached for one of the mugs of steaming hot chocolate and handed it to her. ‘I see you found your way back, then? I’ve made your drink. You should sit down and enjoy it while it’s hot.’

      ‘Thanks. You timed it perfectly.’ Accepting the proffered mug, Rose moved to the other end of the couch and sat down.

      Gene’s reaction at the distance she’d put between them was at first amused, then irritated. ‘Why don’t you come and sit closer to me? I promise I don’t bite.’

      Cupping her drink, she crumpled her smooth brow a little. ‘That sounds like an invitation from the Big Bad Wolf...’

      ‘Do you think of yourself as Little Red Riding Hood, then?’

      ‘Why not? She was a very clever girl. She saw through the wolf right from the beginning. She knew he was up to no good.’

      She flushed and Gene sensed his blood heatedly go south. How had he not seen just how engaging this woman was the moment he’d first set eyes on her?

      Clearly unfazed by his teasing invitation to sit closer, she took an experimental sip of hot chocolate and licked her lips. The unknowingly provocative gesture had the effect of making his already entranced gaze hone in on the alluring shape of her mouth. The sight inevitably brought back the memory of the kiss he’d stolen at the antiques shop. He tightened as he remembered the luxuriant taste of her satin textured lips and the tide of molten longing that had flowed through him.

      ‘My God, this is so good!’ She smiled. ‘How did you learn to make it so delicious?’

      Once again Gene had to shake himself out of the trance he’d seemingly fallen into. ‘My father taught me. He’s a connoisseur in the art of making sinfully delicious hot chocolate. “Make this for the woman in your life, son, and she’ll love you forever.” That’s what he used to say.’

      ‘And do you? Make it for the woman in your life, I mean?’

      He couldn’t take the question lightly. Not when he’d never let a woman get close enough to engage his emotions, let alone make her his mate for life...

      Disgruntled, he replied, ‘No. I don’t have a particular woman in my life—and neither do I want to. I believe in keeping my options open.’

      ‘You mean you’d prefer to have a selection of women to choose from rather than just one special one?’

      He sensed an aggravated muscle jerk in the side of his cheek. ‘I suppose you could say that.’

      Rose’s violet gaze was thoughtful. ‘Then I guess I’m privileged that you chose to make hot chocolate for me, Mr Bonnaire, especially when I’m not remotely interested in joining your select little harem.’

      ‘Indeed. And I asked you to call me Gene,’ he snapped, unhappy that she should dismiss him so mockingly. It was hardly flattering.

      Why on earth had he mentioned that silly comment his father had made? Not only had it highlighted to Rose that he liked to play the field—a fact he suddenly didn’t feel proud of at all—but referencing the man who had raised him made