The Boss's Virgin by Charlotte Lamb

Author:Charlotte Lamb [Lamb, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

She had asked herself the same question, ever since they'd met again, and she still wasn't sure of the answer. They were both free now, as he said. She wanted him, she couldn't deny it—and yet…

And yet for some reason she found herself backing away every time they came too close, and she didn't know why.

'You're moving too fast,' she guessed aloud without real conviction, pushing at his shoulders and taking a step back. 'We only met again less than twelve hours ago and a lot has happened since then. My marriage is off, I'm leaving my job and selling my home—the last few hours have been an emotional avalanche. I'm still reeling. The last thing I need is you trying to force the pace.'

He let go of her slowly, frowning. 'Maybe that's it. But I'm afraid you'll run away again. It's a habit of yours. And you're deceitful, Pippa. I left you getting ready to have lunch with me earlier today and what did you do? You ran away here, to Maldon. Why did you do that? Maybe that's what you're intending to do again. Maybe tomorrow morning I'll find you've skipped the hotel and gone before I get up for breakfast'

Soberly, she said, 'I promise I won't. I give you my word.'

He studied her face intently. 'You'll meet me downstairs for breakfast? You swear?'

'I swear. What time?'

'Eight-thirty?'

She nodded. 'Eight-thirty. I'll be there. Then I'm checking out and going home to write letters and make phone calls.'

He moved towards the door. 'Okay, see you at breakfast, then.'

She followed so that she could bolt the door as soon as he had left and Randal looked down at her mockingly.

'Goodnight.' Bending briefly, he dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose, then he was gone, and Pippa bolted the door after him. That tiny, intimate caress left a warm feeling inside her, though, while she was undressing, taking off her make-up, washing, getting into bed.

There was something special between them; there had been from the beginning. She had never felt anything like that for anyone else. Oh, she liked Tom, but ruefully she had to admit that if she had married him it would have been a disastrous mistake. She would never have loved him, really loved him.

Switching off her bedside lamp, she lay in the darkness listening to the slow lap-lap of water on the quayside, an occasional footfall out there in the damp grey mist. Above her the ancient floors creaked as someone walked across another bedroom. Pipes hummed as water ran. But otherwise the hotel was quiet, nobody seemed to be listening to television or talking, and it didn't take her long to get to sleep.

The room was full of sunlight when she woke up; the mist had obviously cleared. Slipping out of bed, she parted the curtains to peer out. The quay bristled with masts; brightly painted little boats moored in rows, bobbing against each other as the water rose and fell.

She read their names, smiling.

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