Robyn Donald - A Forbidden Desire by Anja

Author:Anja [Anja]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-05-07T17:54:38+00:00

Grabbing for her composure, she managed to produce a laugh. ‘Yes, I might. I suppose it’s all the whistling he does at his dogs.’

‘Possibly,’ he said, blue eyes limpidly unreadable. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

‘No, not at all.’ And because she felt defenceless sprawled along the lounger, her faded cotton shorts revealing far too much skin, she swung her legs down and straightened up as he sat in a big rattan chair.

‘Have you had a good day?’ he asked.

‘Fine. And you?’

Just ordinary pleasantries, the small coinage of conversation, yet nothing sounded ordinary or small when Paul spoke.

‘Busy,’ he said. ‘Did Fran tell you about the party this weekend?’

‘Yes. I offered to help her, but she didn’t think you’d need a waitress or a good plain cook.’

Something glittered beneath his lashes, disappearing so swiftly she couldn’t discern it. ‘No,’ he said blandly. ‘The caterer will organise that side of things. I expect you to be a guest.’

No doubt it was kindly meant, although she wondered at the inflexible note in the words. ‘Paul,’

she said, feeling her way, ‘it’s very generous and hospitable of you to include me, but I really don’t think I’d fit in.’

‘If it’s clothes—’

‘It’s not just that,’ she said quietly.

‘So tell me what it is.’

It was a command, not a suggestion. She said, ‘I’d feel that I’d imposed on your hospitality.

Would you have asked me if I’d been staying at the bach?’

His smile was hard and sardonic. ‘Yes.’

She cast around for another objection. ‘Is Dean coming?’

Two lines grooved vertically between his brows, strengthening his subtle air of intimidation.

‘Dean will be away this weekend with Brenda. Have you met her yet?’

‘No. She’s busy with exams, apparently.’ It was a sidetrack; she went on, ‘I’d rather not, Paul.’

‘I’d like you to.’

If he’d been at all arrogant about his request—if he’d said it as though she owed him for his hospitality—she’d have refused him. After all, she could ask Dean for the loan of his cottage while he was away.

But she couldn’t resist. Or the smile that accompanied it, oddly sympathetic.

So, perhaps helped by remembering the sari she and her mother had chosen in Fiji—that glittering, beautiful thing of glorious orange-gold that somehow transformed her skin into ivory and her hair into amber, and set the dancing lights gleaming in her eyes—she said, ‘All right.’

His smile was ironic, as though he was laughing at both her and himself. ‘You’ll have fun,’ he promised.

Jacinta hadn’t been to a party for years. She’d never been to a party with Hollywood film stars; it would be something to tell her children, if she ever had any. ‘I’m sure I will,’ she agreed.

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