Sleepy and languid in the aftermath, she couldn’t feel regret. She burrowed like a kitten against him. Tiny aftershocks still tightened the muscles in her pelvis but she hadn’t forgotten the moment of release; she never would.

‘I wasn’t going to do this again,’ she murmured sleepily.

‘Is that what you thought?’ he replied indulgently.

‘I don’t say goodbye to everyone like this, you know.’ A faint whimsical smile curved her lips. Her languid state of mind didn’t register the sudden tension in the arms of the man who held her.

‘Goodbye?’ Rachel didn’t hear his harsh question; she’d finally released her tenacious grip on consciousness.

‘I think it’s best if you leave now.’

The sleepy look on Ben’s face made him look younger than his thirty-four years. The impulse to wrap her arms around him was strong. It would have felt good to have him wake up next to her. His dark head had been comfortably settled against the slope of her breasts before she had stealthily slipped from the warm bed.

Benedict dragged his fingers through his tousled dark hair and the sheet slid down to reveal his hair-roughened chest and flat belly.

‘You’re saying basically “Here’s your pants; get lost”?’ He jackknifed into a sitting position and from his alert expression his brain was no longer burdened by fatigue—it was firing on all cylinders.

‘I’m saying it would be better if you left before Charlie wakes up. She’ll be confused…’

‘That’ll make two of us.’

He didn’t look confused; he looked angry. She’d hoped he wouldn’t react like this.

‘Be reasonable. I’m the one who’ll have to field awkward questions,’ she reminded him tensely.

‘Are you sure it’s the thought of Charlie’s questions that’s got you running scared, Rachel? Wouldn’t it be more honest to say it’s your own questions you’re prepared to go to any lengths to avoid?’ He flung back the quilt and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. The sight made her sensitive stomach muscles go into spasm.

Why don’t you go ahead and drool? she asked herself angrily as she tore her glance from the sight of his athletically sculpted thighs.

‘It’s a perfectly legitimate request,’ she said, tightening the sash on her smoky blue floor-length gown. He got up and walked across the room. There was no hint of self-consciousness in his graceful stride. He was as close to perfection as it came, she thought, watching him with covetous eyes.

‘It makes it pretty clear that you’re ashamed of last night.’

‘Last night was just a…a…’

‘The definitive term escapes you, does it?’

She glared resentfully at him. He appeared to get some savage satisfaction from seeing her floundering helplessly. ‘I’m just being practical,’ she insisted.

‘Does the idea of sex full stop bother you, or is it just sex with me that becomes sordid and tacky in the cold light of day?’

There was a depth of anger and disillusionment she hadn’t expected in his expression. She stifled the flicker of uncertainty before gritting her teeth and continuing in a patronising, amused tone, ‘Don’t worry, this is no reflection on your masculinity. I’ll go on record as saying you’re a fantastic lover.’ She smiled and lifted her shoulders in a tiny gesture intended to reflect on the fragile ego of the male.

He stepped into his white cotton boxers and his brows drew together in a hard line of displeasure. ‘Did I measure up to your idealised memories of your first love? Fantasies are so much neater, don’t you find? There’s no body to get rid of in the morning.’ He smiled unpleasantly at her. ‘Thank you,’ he added as she passed him the errant sock which had been eluding him.

He only raised a brow when she jerked her hand away before their fingers touched, but it was enough to make her flush self-consciously. If he had any idea of how much she feared a simple contact like that and why, she’d die of sheer humiliation.

‘Unlike you I don’t consider sex a leisure sport. I’m sure some people can be satisfied…’

‘I thought you were. You screamed something to that effect, as I recall.’

‘Must you be crude and vulgar?’ she asked, her cheeks ablaze. ‘I’m trying to say I can’t justify sex without love.’

‘Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it. Practical’s a good line,’ he mused. ‘You stick to that, darling,’ he advised. ‘Anyone can say “I love you”.’

‘I don’t.’




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