The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection. Kelly Hunter

      He looked down at her. ‘I am having fun. With you,’ he said, and leaned down to kiss her.

      ‘I know why you do that,’ she said, when he pulled back. ‘Do what?’

      ‘Kiss me.’

      ‘Well, duh, Kate! I do it because I like kissing you.’

      ‘You do it to distract me. So you don’t have to answer my questions.’

      ‘And does it? Distract you?’

      ‘Yes. But why are such simple questions a problem for you?’

      Pause. ‘Prying into my past is not part of the deal, Kate.’

      Kate felt it like a slap—not just the words but the keep your distance tone. She found she was gripping her glass too hard, so put it on the broad top of the terrace railing.

      She heard Scott sigh. Then he was smoothing his hand over her hair like an apology. ‘Kate, the sailing… It’s just something I set aside to focus on the realities of life—like studying and working. And look at me now—I’m an award-winner!’ Low laugh, with all the self-deprecation his brother lacked. ‘It’s enough for me.’

      ‘If it were enough you wouldn’t spend every moment I leave you alone out on the terrace, watching the boats.’

      ‘Pry-ing…’ he sing-songed.

      ‘It’s not prying to ask questions about a person you…you’re…’

      ‘Having sex with,’ he supplied. And sighed again. ‘You drew up the contract, Kate. There wasn’t a clause for fireside chats in there.’ Slight pause. ‘Right?’

      ‘Right.’

      ‘So has anything changed for you?’

      She wanted to say yes. That things had changed. Because of the way they’d made love two nights ago. The way he’d presented her with a chocolate heart. And blushed when two little girls had kissed him. The way he tried to pretend that the boats bobbing on the harbour held no fascination for him when she knew they did.

      But if things changed he would go. She knew it instinctively. Not yet. Not…yet.

      ‘No,’ she said quietly, and picked up her wine glass, sipped. ‘Nothing’s changed.’

      They stood in silence, side by side, staring across at the dark water, the city lights in the distance.

      And then Scott cleared his throat. Just a tiny sound. ‘Good. Because the whole fireside-chat thing… It would be like me asking you…’ Shrug. ‘I don’t know…’ Shrug. ‘If you wanted…maybe…to have children. One day, I mean.’

      Another clearing of the throat. ‘Because you’re so good with the girls anyone would wonder about that.’

      What the hell? Kate slanted a look at him. He was looking out at the Harbour.

      But then he turned, looked at her. Eyes watchful. ‘And you wouldn’t want me to ask you that, would you?’

      ‘If you wanted to ask me that, Scott, I’d answer. Because it’s no big deal.’

      ‘Ah, but I don’t need to ask. I already know the answer is yes.’

      And for the first time in a long time, Kate thought, Yes. The answer, very simply, was yes. Except of course she’d lost that simple answer somewhere along her career path.

      She turned back to the boats. Long moment.

      ‘You know, Scott, I’ve seen fathers who say they’ve been tricked into pregnancy and shouldn’t have to pay child support. Divorcing parents using child custody as carrot and stick to punish or bribe. Surrogates who decide to keep their children when those children are the last hope of desperate couples. Fathers pulling out all the stops to avoid their children being aborted. Twins separated and fostered because of financial pressure. Unwanted children, abused children, ignored children. I’m not sure that’s an enticement to parenthood.’

      ‘But you wouldn’t be like any of those parents.’

      ‘No. But a lot of women are good at choosing the wrong man.’

      ‘Then don’t choose the wrong man.’

      ‘Oh, simple!’ She turned to him. ‘So simple that I suppose if you found the right woman it would be a case of Bingo, let me impregnate you immediately!’

      He laughed softly. ‘Since the longest I’ve been with a woman is two months, I’d say I’m hardly father material.’

      Two months. The equivalent of one contract rollover. Consider yourself warned, Kate.

      ‘Well, at least you’ve got the uncle routine down pat,’ she said. ‘Judging by how you were with Maeve and Molly. Where did you learn that? Does Hugo have children?’

      ‘Yes, he does. One girl. One boy. Twins. A perfect set. My brother does all things to perfection.’

      Kate caught the wryness—but before she could even wonder at it Scott had tugged her under his arm, leaned down for another that’s enough talking kiss.

      ‘I can’t wait to touch you,’ he said.

      ‘You are touching me,’ she said, all breathless—because that was what it did to her every time he kissed her.

      ‘I’m calling another Play Time next week, Kate.’

      ‘What do you want to do?’

      ‘Uh-uh. Secret. But you’re not keeping up. Come on—don’t you have a fantasy you want to try out? I’d love to indulge you.’

      ‘I do have something in mind for next week,’ Kate said, because since it was a damned sex contract, and she’d put that stupid clause in there herself, it would look strange if she didn’t have even one scenario in mind. But the truth was she could think of nothing she wanted more than just taking him into her body, holding him close.

      ‘Woo-hoo, I’ll be hanging out for that,’ Scott said. ‘But remember—no S&M, no B&D. I wasn’t kidding about that stuff. It creeps me out, the pain thing. I don’t enjoy it, and I sure as hell can’t see myself inflicting it on you. Oh—and while fruit and veg is acceptable, under certain circumstances, no wildlife, no livestock. I’m not that kinky.’

      ‘Wildlife?’ Kate spluttered out a laugh. ‘That is just disgusting. Is your black book annotated? Because maybe I’d better take a look at what you expect. I might have to rein you in.’

      Scott grinned at her. ‘Just making sure we’re on the same page after seeing the way that guy in your boardroom was patting and kissing his little dog like it was his girlfriend.’

      Another spluttered laugh. ‘Please! You’re going to give me nightmares. And Sugarplum isn’t a dog. She’s a shih tzu.’

      ‘The dog is called Sugarplum?’

      ‘Yep.’

      ‘Well, that is an abomination.’

      Kate bit the inside of her cheek. ‘Actually, I have another name for her. Hostis humani generis.’

      ‘Is that a legal term?’

      ‘It is. It means “enemy of the human race”. Which I think is very apt in Sugarplum’s case.’

      ‘I’m going to have to kiss you for that. Because legal terms get me so damned hot! Can you say something with functus officio in it?’

      She was laughing helplessly. ‘Not offhand, no.’

      ‘Then hostis humani generis it is.’

      Kate was still laughing as Scott planted his mouth on hers…but not for long. By the time he