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Authors: Sara Craven
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from his face.
‘I came to welcome my newest guest and make sure she had everything she wanted,’ she went on. ‘But I see you’ve forestalled me, Jake, darling.
‘I never realised before that you were into a little afternoon delight, but one lives and learns.
‘So, all I can say is please accept my abject apologies for this unwarranted intrusion. I shall have to be more careful in future.’
She turned back to the door, adding over her shoulder, ‘If you can tear yourselves apart for long enough, tea is being served on the lawn.’
The bedroom door closed softly behind her, leaving them alone.
Marin drew a deep, shaky breath. ‘You knew she was due to arrive?’
‘I was about to go into the bathroom when I heard her speaking to someone at the end of the passage,’ Jake said, his mouth twisting. ‘I guessed she’d be on her way. It seemed a wise move to let her find us very much together.’
Did it? thought Marin, trying to find somewhere to look that did not involve bare, tanned skin. Trying to forget the swift brush of his lips on her body, as well as her own grave error in touching him, holding him. As if—as if…
‘So,’ he went on after a pause, ‘Are you up for tea on the lawn?’ He reached down and smoothed a strand of hair back from her flushed face, his fingers lingering. ‘Or do you have any alternative suggestion, perhaps?’
‘No,’ she said, too quickly, flurried by the openly teasing note in his voice. ‘Oh, no.’ She swallowed. ‘Tea would be—nice.’
And infinitely safer than the kind of forbidden fruit he represented. Because it would be so terribly easy to put out a hand and touch his skin, or the dark, curling hair on his chest, or run a fingertip along his mouth. To feel once more the warm weight of him pressing her down into the mattress…
‘Then we’ll make a joint and virtuous appearance in the garden in about thirty minutes,’ Jake said, lifting himself lithely off the bed. ‘This house is a bit of a labyrinth, so I’ll knock on the door when I’ve showered and changed.’ The smile he sent her was casual, friendly. Unambiguous. ‘After all, I wouldn’t want you to get lost.’
‘But it’s too late for that,’ she wanted to cry after him as he walked back into his own room. ‘Because I’m lost already, and frightened that I won’t find my way back to the girl I used to be when all this is over.’
And knew that was something else she would have to keep hidden over this nightmare of a weekend—whatever the cost.
Chapter Five
T EA ON THE lawn had such a wonderfully cosy sound, thought Marin as she dressed for dinner that evening. It spoke of sunlight, cucumber sandwiches and daisies twinkling in the grass.
Whereas the reality hadn’t been nearly as inviting.
As she’d descended the terrace steps at Jake’s side, and looked across the immaculately shorn grass to the cluster of parasol-shaded wicker chairs where Diana presided over a table set with an opulent silver tea-service, she’d known an ignominious desire to turn and run.
‘All right?’ Jake had asked softly, his fingers tightening momentarily round hers, and she’d nodded jerkily.
There were three other couples: Sylvia Bannister, a smart brunette, with her husband, Robert, a tall, red-faced man with an emphatic way of speaking; Chaz and Fiona Stratton, who ran their own antiques business; and the Dawsons, who were clearly older than the others, and probably friends of Graham rather than his wife.
After Diana’s fairly perfunctory introductions, Marin took the first empty chair she saw and sank into it.
Jake dropped to the grass beside her chair, leaning back and resting his arm casually across her knees, a gesture of possession that she realised would not be lost on anyone present, as he undoubtedly intended.
It was like a little war, she thought, with herself caught in the middle. Maybe it was time she definitely established just whose side she was on.
It was apparent, for
‘I came to welcome my newest guest and make sure she had everything she wanted,’ she went on. ‘But I see you’ve forestalled me, Jake, darling.
‘I never realised before that you were into a little afternoon delight, but one lives and learns.
‘So, all I can say is please accept my abject apologies for this unwarranted intrusion. I shall have to be more careful in future.’
She turned back to the door, adding over her shoulder, ‘If you can tear yourselves apart for long enough, tea is being served on the lawn.’
The bedroom door closed softly behind her, leaving them alone.
Marin drew a deep, shaky breath. ‘You knew she was due to arrive?’
‘I was about to go into the bathroom when I heard her speaking to someone at the end of the passage,’ Jake said, his mouth twisting. ‘I guessed she’d be on her way. It seemed a wise move to let her find us very much together.’
Did it? thought Marin, trying to find somewhere to look that did not involve bare, tanned skin. Trying to forget the swift brush of his lips on her body, as well as her own grave error in touching him, holding him. As if—as if…
‘So,’ he went on after a pause, ‘Are you up for tea on the lawn?’ He reached down and smoothed a strand of hair back from her flushed face, his fingers lingering. ‘Or do you have any alternative suggestion, perhaps?’
‘No,’ she said, too quickly, flurried by the openly teasing note in his voice. ‘Oh, no.’ She swallowed. ‘Tea would be—nice.’
And infinitely safer than the kind of forbidden fruit he represented. Because it would be so terribly easy to put out a hand and touch his skin, or the dark, curling hair on his chest, or run a fingertip along his mouth. To feel once more the warm weight of him pressing her down into the mattress…
‘Then we’ll make a joint and virtuous appearance in the garden in about thirty minutes,’ Jake said, lifting himself lithely off the bed. ‘This house is a bit of a labyrinth, so I’ll knock on the door when I’ve showered and changed.’ The smile he sent her was casual, friendly. Unambiguous. ‘After all, I wouldn’t want you to get lost.’
‘But it’s too late for that,’ she wanted to cry after him as he walked back into his own room. ‘Because I’m lost already, and frightened that I won’t find my way back to the girl I used to be when all this is over.’
And knew that was something else she would have to keep hidden over this nightmare of a weekend—whatever the cost.
Chapter Five
T EA ON THE lawn had such a wonderfully cosy sound, thought Marin as she dressed for dinner that evening. It spoke of sunlight, cucumber sandwiches and daisies twinkling in the grass.
Whereas the reality hadn’t been nearly as inviting.
As she’d descended the terrace steps at Jake’s side, and looked across the immaculately shorn grass to the cluster of parasol-shaded wicker chairs where Diana presided over a table set with an opulent silver tea-service, she’d known an ignominious desire to turn and run.
‘All right?’ Jake had asked softly, his fingers tightening momentarily round hers, and she’d nodded jerkily.
There were three other couples: Sylvia Bannister, a smart brunette, with her husband, Robert, a tall, red-faced man with an emphatic way of speaking; Chaz and Fiona Stratton, who ran their own antiques business; and the Dawsons, who were clearly older than the others, and probably friends of Graham rather than his wife.
After Diana’s fairly perfunctory introductions, Marin took the first empty chair she saw and sank into it.
Jake dropped to the grass beside her chair, leaning back and resting his arm casually across her knees, a gesture of possession that she realised would not be lost on anyone present, as he undoubtedly intended.
It was like a little war, she thought, with herself caught in the middle. Maybe it was time she definitely established just whose side she was on.
It was apparent, for
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