Undone by His Touch by Annie West

Author:Annie West
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781408973912
Publisher: HarlequinUKLtd
Published: 2012-03-04T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHLOE woke to the roar of a helicopter. It blasted her consciousness with a heavy thud-thud-thud reminiscent of how her pulse had thundered when she and Declan made love. Instinctively she reached for him, but the bed was empty. Her heart dipped.

The vibration of the chopper’s blades was so close it must be on the estate. She opened her eyes. The sun was so high she guessed it was afternoon.

On a surge of frantic energy she shot out of bed, only to discover her legs wobbled like jelly after a long night’s loving. The realisation shocked her. She’d never experienced anything like the night she’d spent with Declan. Not even in the first flush of her relationship with Mark had passion been so all-consuming.

Chloe shoved the disquieting thought aside and stumbled to her feet, hauling her wrap on.

‘Declan?’ No answer from the en suite bathroom. He must have gone down to see who was arriving.

She cringed at the thought of being caught naked, emerging from her boss’s bed. Last night they hadn’t been employer and employee. But nor had they spoken of where their changed relationship might lead.

Chloe wished he was here to reassure her. So she could read the tenderness in his touch. A tenderness that had delighted her and eased her nerves.

Last night had been the culmination of weeks of tension building like a storm head in a summer sky. Yet the depth of her feelings shocked her.

When Declan had revealed his injuries had come from trying to save his brother, her heart had cracked at such tragic waste and desperate loyalty. She’d wanted to hold him till all his wounds, physical and emotional, had healed.

Did she love him?

Her heart thudded so loud it blocked the roar of the chopper.

Chloe waited for panic to engulf her. Instead a sense of peace settled. Whatever this was, it was right.

Finally she remembered the need for clothes and moved. She was almost to the top of the stairs when movement out the window caught her eye.

The chopper was on the helipad beyond the tennis court. As she watched two men walked towards it, heads bent. One she didn’t know. The other was unmistakeable—wide shoulders, wind-tousled black hair, imposing frame.

It was Declan in jeans and a dark shirt she’d laundered yesterday. His gait was clipped, uneven, as if his leg pained him more than usual.

Hot guilt stabbed her. Last night neither of them had made concessions for his injuries.

Then she realised Declan was getting aboard!

Her blood drained away. He was leaving? Chloe clutched at the window sill as she slumped in shock.

As morning-after etiquette, this was a killer. But then she had no experience of mornings after with any man but her husband. She shook her head, utterly bewildered, her stomach hollowing. This couldn’t be happening.

Was she so easily dismissed? Had that tenderness, the closeness they’d slowly built, meant nothing? Was this how Declan behaved with all women once he’d had his fill?

Distress and mortification churned her insides.

At the last moment Declan paused and turned his head, almost as if he saw her.

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