Mistress And Mother by Lynne Graham

Author:Lynne Graham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

Molly gave a cranky groan of complaint as she was pulled gently up against supporting pillows. Her eyes opened in amazement as a garment was dropped over her head, briefly blocking out her vision. ‘What on earth...?’

She focused wide-eyed on Sholto as he sat on the edge of the bed, helpfully slotting her arms into her nightdress as if she were a boneless rag doll. And in actual fact at that instant, as she absorbed the spectacular sizzling effect of Sholto that close, she had far more in common with that doll than she wanted to admit. Fully dressed in a sharply tailored charcoal-grey suit and smiling, he just took her breath away.

Someone knocked on the door. He sprang upright and strode to answer it. Sheer poetry in motion. Briefly, Molly closed her eyes in despair. She saw that brilliant smile again, a smile unashamedly vibrant with satisfaction, and self-loathing blossomed as she recalled the pitifully slushy feelings which had kept her glued to Sholto throughout the night hours.

‘Breakfast,’ Sholto announced, settling an elaborate bed tray over her knees.

Molly’s nostrils flared on the unmistakable aroma of something fried and her stomach rolled instantaneously. She frowned down at the crisp meal on the plate and the most horrible heaving sensation clutched at her belly. ‘Take it away!’ she gulped, snaking her knees up in an awkward shimmy in an effort not to send the tray flying and then pressing her hand to her mouth in horror.

She had one brief glimpse of Sholto surveying her in appalled fascination before he reacted with commendable speed in whipping the tray out of her path. Molly flew off the bed and raced for the bathroom. Several rather unpleasant minutes followed. She was dimly aware of Sholto’s presence and she absolutely did not want his assistance but she just couldn’t get the chance to tell him that and he took charge in that infuriatingly practical fashion of his.

The sickness receded surprisingly quickly but the experience left her feeling weak. Sholto carried her back to bed with a cold damp cloth draped over her forehead. ‘I’ve got a bug,’ she lamented. ‘I hate feeling like this...’

‘Madre di Dio...’ Sholto muttered almost inaudibly.

Molly pushed up the cloth to look at him and frowned. He was gazing out of the window but she could see the ferociously tense set of his broad shoulders beneath the fine wool of his jacket. Even as she watched he raked a restive hand through his immaculately styled black hair in a telling but unusual gesture of raw impatience.

‘I should have known there was something up yesterday. I wouldn’t go all dizzy over something as minor as a missed meal. Now you’ll catch it,’ she sighed, and a part of her thought, Serve him right.

‘I don’t think so...’ Sholto’s rich dark drawl was now coolly constrained. ‘I don’t think I’ll catch this particular bug...’

He strolled back to the foot of the bed, dark eyes cloaked by impenetrable lashes. ‘You should stay in bed for the rest of the day.

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