Starling by Virginia Taylor

Author:Virginia Taylor [Taylor, Virginia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

For the first time, Alasdair noticed how hard Lavender worked to keep his attention. She brushed against him at every given opportunity. As a host, he had been lax. Without realizing, he’d turned his interest to Starling, continually mulling about the experience she must have to make him want her so badly. A wise man would let her leave. A wise man wouldn’t twist his tales until he sounded addled in the hope of forcing her to stay with him.

“Is that what this is about?” she’d asked. “You want me to be your whore?”

A foolish man would have answered yes and taken her and sated his damned hunger.

Trying to respond to Lavender, he let her hand linger on his as he showed her how to strike the ball. Starling didn’t once glance their way. A little possessiveness from his wife wouldn’t be out of order. He wouldn’t mind in the least if she grabbed him and slapped him. If she fought for him, verbally or physically, he could have an excuse to snatch her away, race her to the bedroom, hurl her on the bed, and get between those long legs of hers. Once he’d had her, he could forget about his ridiculous yearning and concentrate on Lavender.

The game began with Mary being the first one out, and Paul the next. When Alasdair’s time out arrived, he went through the French doors onto the balcony, determined not to stand around admiring Starling’s derriere as she bent over the table chasing the ball. He clenched his fingers into fists and rested them on the stone balustrade, wishing he hadn’t lost control of the entire situation.

A female who was less than respectable had no right to amuse him with her remarks, make him laugh out loud at her blatant provocation, or inflame him to the point where he had practically begged her to stay in his house and keep teasing him until he couldn’t string two sensible words together.

He smacked his fist against the railing, wishing he’d never thought of teaching Mary a lesson. The only person who had learned a lesson here seemed to be him. He was an expert all right: an expert in entangling himself with completely inappropriate women. Why couldn’t he simply say to Starling, This is ridiculous. I’m as randy as all hell and I can’t take the woman I love because if she knows, she’ll use me the way she used me before. So, since you’ve had men before, and I’d hardly be despoiling a virgin, could you please, please share your lovely body with me just once?

He groaned, rested his elbows on the hewn stone balustrade, and put his head in his hands He couldn’t beg. That was the root of her attraction, of course. He’d never had to beg a woman in his life...not even Lavender.

Clenching his jaw, he tried to count the stars in the black sky, lost his way, and attempted to identify birdcalls. His diligence was rewarded by the soft tap of a female step and the gentle curl of arms around his waist.

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