A Distraction of Lies by Charlotte E Hart

Author:Charlotte E Hart [Hart, Charlotte E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Hannah

M y lips quirk, brain trying to work out what I’m even doing here with him. I’m on a plane, no idea where we’re heading, and looking at him as if he’s everything I need to break this head space I’m in. He nods at the chair opposite him again, as if telling me to get in it and do as I’m told – conform.

No.

I stretch my leg around him instead and sit in his lap, facing him. He’s wider than Rick. More solid under my backside. I let my weight ease onto him, no care for the way he seems displeased with my move, and place my hands of the front of his shirt. The chest beneath it heaves in a breath, as I pick at the buttons. No movement from him other than that, though. No show of touching me in return. He just looks at me, his typical half ferocious face gazing at me.

Strange.

We nearly kissed the other night. So close. I remembered it when I woke up after my nap and saw the phone still open on his pages. The seconds of time that passed between us as we looked at each other bedded in again, reminding me of that drunken time with laughs and giggles and piggybacks.

One of my hands reaches for the back of his neck, letting the texture of his hair find its way to my grip again. “What does watch mean?” I ask, draping my hand back to his shirt again.

“Exactly what it sounds like it means,” he replies, watching me closely. “I look. You do … whatever you want to do.”

His top button comes undone, the pad of my fingers dropping onto his skin. The moment it does he moves suddenly, standing easily regardless of my weight and sliding me off him slowly. My heels hit the ground, his hand stabilising me until I get my balance. “You just don’t do it with me, Mrs Tanner,” he says, leaving me to walk to the bar.

He grabs a bottle of water and offers me one, as if the sitting on his lap thing didn’t happen. I take it from him and go back to my chair, part of me feeling like I’ve just been told off. I smirk at the feeling, oddly titillated by it considering the grieving wife I’m supposed to be. Rick never did that sort of thing with me. He was always up for my coy advances. This man, though, seems uncomfortable around my advances no matter how forward they are.

“I can’t work you out, Mr Rothburg. First I offered my lips to you and you didn’t respond. And then I was near naked on your bed, and yet nothing. And then I slip my clothes off at your request, exposing myself, and still nothing. And now I’m over on your lap, on your plane, and you push me off?”

“You’re not supposed to work me out. Think of me as a guide to distraction. Nothing more.”

“You don’t want to get inside me?”

“That’s not why we’re here, or why we’re going where we’re going.

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