Tall, Dark... Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

and then she would be sharing Nick’s bed on a permanent basis.

      Oh, God…!

      ‘This way,’ Nick instructed her abruptly the following evening, as Hebe began to take her things through to his bedroom. Instead, he lead her into the bedroom next to his, also overlooking the river, and put her suitcase down on the bed before turning to look at her.

      If anything, she looked in worse shape than he did!

      Which was precisely why, on the journey from her apartment, he had actually decided to put her in the bedroom adjoining his, rather than sharing a bedroom with him.

      It had been a tough few days for both of them, he had acknowledged last night, after dropping Hebe off at her apartment and returning home alone, to call his parents and then his younger sister to tell them about the wedding. Natalie had been absolutely agog at the speed with which he was contemplating remarrying.

      Explaining about the baby—something that had made his mother cry with happiness and his sister exclaim with joy—had helped, of course, but their curiosity about his future bride, the questions he hadn’t been able to answer about Hebe, had made him realise that he and Hebe really did need to take a little time, a step back, in order to get to know each other better before they were married.

      Out of bed, that was.

      Hebe looked surprised at being put into the spare room.

      ‘After what you said yesterday, I decided it would be better for both of us if you had your own room until after the wedding,’ he explained quickly as he easily interpreted her questioning look.

      Hebe wasn’t sure how she felt about it, she didn’t seem to be able to think straight at all today. She had slept badly after the strain of their parting last night, with Nick driving away as soon as she had stepped out of the car.

      It had been no good telling herself it was what she wanted. Of course it was—but at the same time she longed for the closeness of making love with Nick, knowing they could reach each other on that level if no other.

      To add to her misery, she was still totally bewildered as to what to do about her parents.

      They had obviously recognised Jacob Gardner’s name when Nick had mentioned it, but she couldn’t imagine under what circumstances. The more she thought about it, the more puzzled she became.

      She knew what conclusion Nick had come to, but as she knew that certainly wasn’t the correct one, she was left to try and work out for herself what it was. Not wanting to talk about an obviously sensitive subject in a telephone conversation with her parents, she would have to wait to talk to them when they came to London for the wedding.

      But that hadn’t stopped her thinking. And wondering.

      Jacob Gardner had lived in the north of England, and to her knowledge her parents had never lived anywhere but Cambridgeshire, their lives completely wrapped up in the university there.

      Her parents had never, in the twenty-six years Hebe had been alive, mentioned knowing or befriending a man called Jacob Gardner.

      Yet their reaction was undeniable. They had heard the man’s name before, if nothing else.

      How?

      And if they had known him why hadn’t they exclaimed over the coincidence, rather than behaving as they had, with her mother dropping her cup and saucer, and her father going very quiet?

      Round and round her thoughts had gone the night before. And her highly-charged feelings about Nick hadn’t helped her relax, either.

      Their relationship, precarious at the best of times, looked like standing even less chance of survival if he was going to continue believing she had been intimately involved with two wealthy men she had actually never even met.

      ‘It’s lovely—thank you,’ she said now, forcing her attention back to her new home.

      And it really was a beautiful bedroom, dominated by yet another four-poster bed, with red and gold coverings and drapes. The furniture looked like Louis IV—very ornate, and very different from the more austere furnishings in Nick’s adjoining room.

      Had this once been Sally’s room?

      She wasn’t sure she could bear it if it had—

      ‘I didn’t buy and open the London gallery until two years ago, Hebe,’Nick drawled, in answer to her unasked question, his gaze quizzically mocking as she gave him a sharp look. ‘I’m sure you remember the bathroom from your previous—visits,’ he added derisively, as he opened the door that went through to the bathroom, separating the two bedrooms.

      Of course she remembered the bathroom. She had showered in it the morning after their first night together. And she had been ill in it six weeks later.

      It was a room almost as large as the bedrooms, with a huge glass-doored shower in one corner, a large mirrored vanity and two sinks along the back wall, whilst the other wall was taken up by the hugest cream-coloured bath she had ever seen—Jacuzzi bath that looked as if it could seat four comfortably and six rather more—intimately.

      ‘Go ahead and take a bath if you want to,’ Nick invited nonchalantly, as he obviously saw her gaze on it and misunderstood the reason for it. ‘I have some papers I need to read anyway.’

      Consider yourself dismissed, Hebe, she thought with contempt, when she found herself alone in the bathroom a few seconds later.

      But it wasn’t such a bad idea. She hadn’t slept well, and Nick seemed more remote today than he had ever been. She’d also had an emotional parting from Gina an hour or so ago, the two of them having shared the flat for almost a year now, and a nice warm bath would certainly help her to relax.

      Wow, she thought admiringly a few minutes later, as she let herself down into the scented, bubbled water, her head resting back against one of the soft waterproof pillows along the edge. Luxury indeed after the cramped bathroom she had shared with Gina. She would fall asleep in here if she wasn’t careful!

      Hebe looked asleep to Nick as he quietly opened the bathroom door almost an hour later. He hoped she wouldn’t think he was intruding on her privacy, but he had been genuinely worried that she had been gone so long—although he had to admit that the thought of Hebe lying naked in the bath had been a constant distraction from his papers…

      He might be denied her bed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t kiss her, did it?

      Hebe felt the nuzzle of lips against her throat first, tensing in surprise, and then relaxing again as she felt the caress of Nick’s hands as they travelled down the slope of her breasts to cup and hold them. She felt the instant melting of her body as she looked down to watch the touch of his thumbtips against the pouting nipples.

      There was something very erotic about watching those long, tanned, almost disembodied hands as they gently stroked and kneaded her breasts, the fingers first flicking against her sensitised nipples and then squeezing gently, those dual sensations sending a warm melting between her thighs. Her legs parted instinctively, the rhythmic movement of Nick’s hands and the added warmth of the water against her sensitivity almost sending her over the edge.

      What was Nick doing to her?

      One of his hands left her breast to move down the slope of her stomach to the vee between her thighs, unerringly finding the aching nub, caressing her lightly there, all the time with his other hand paying homage to her breast.

      Hebe’s neck arched and her head fell back as she felt the excitement building inside her, her eyes wide as she found herself looking up into Nick’s desire-flushed face.

      ‘Ask me, Hebe,’ he prompted fiercely. ‘Ask me to keep touching you. Ask me, damn it!’ he groaned throatily.

      At that moment, Hebe knew she would have begged if Nick had asked her to, so desperately did she feel the need for the touch of his hands and the release only he could give her.

      ‘Please, Nick!’ she murmured