The Right Side of Mr Wrong by Jane Linfoot

Author:Jane Linfoot [Linfoot, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780007544400
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

REAR of the year. Impossibly broad shoulders. And a tray of hot chocolate. One tiny clue that he might, after all, have a human side. Step by step, she promised herself she was hardened to each of these, as she followed him up the stairs in silence. He only spoke as they reached the door of her suite.

‘Still an hour and ten to run on the clock I reckon.’

There it was. As expected. She could hear the swagger in his voice. Calm, cool, confident Brando Marshall. Homing in to get his way.

And dammit that her body was thinking exactly the same.

Nice try. She gritted her teeth, determined, decided. ‘Thanks. But I don’t think so.’

‘Fine. Whatever.’ He turned quietly, impassive. ‘I’ll say goodnight then.’

Then he held out the tray towards her, and with one crestfallen look he floored her.

Because instead of seeing Brando, she was looking at a small, vulnerable boy. One it was impossible to say “no” to.

* * *

‘You know that the sex against the tree didn’t count, don’t you, even though you did get hot chocolate straight after?’

Brando was stretched out on the rug in front of the fire in Shea’s bedroom, next to his empty mug, idly folding a sweet wrapper. ‘Admittedly I was more involved in the sex than when you jumped me, and it was great, but I didn’t kiss you, we kept all our clothes on and it was over way too fast. Proper moving-on sex requires you to be naked, unresisting and pleasured at length, by someone who knows how to deliver. That’s the only way it works. And incidentally, you’re unlikely to find anyone who delivers as well as I do.’

Sure of himself, or what? With the goods and the talent to back it up.

She sighed as he looked up at her with that triumphant grin she was getting to know too well. Vulnerable boy had legged it pretty fast then. Not that she minded. There was something comfortable about this version of Brando, lounging on her bedroom floor like some rumpled sex-god, with his shirt out and his boots kicked off, that made for a perfect moment. She was unlikely to have another like this, so she might as well savour it.

Seize it even.

After what she’d done the last twenty-four hours, would once more be so bad? She was aching to touch him again. Maybe he was right. Once more, properly, might be just what she needed.

Let him take her. Then move on. If only she dared …

Sherbet fountains!

She tried to get a grip! Her heart was jolting hard enough to make her feel sick. Had he just said that sex with her was great? She tried not to feel ecstatic about this, and failed.

‘You wouldn’t be about to offer your services again now, would you?’ She gave him a hard stare, tried to keep the laughter out of her own voice, and mentally berated whatever part of her body was sending ripples – or would that be seismic waves? – of anticipation through her.

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