Talking would be much better.
‘Brian’s willing to lend me the money for the renovations.’ It was the first thing that popped into her head. ‘So I can phone Mr McConagle from work and let him know to start.’
They’d reached Tara’s house and she opened the gate then turned back to Grant.
‘Isn’t it exciting?’
Definite frown this time.
‘You mean the bank’s lending you the money?’ he growled as Tara appeared, Cassie in her arms.
‘I was just going to give her a bottle, but saw you walking down the street and thought she could wait. If you’re on your way to work, do you want to feed her here rather than go home?’
‘Thanks, Tara, it would certainly save a little time.’
Kate glanced towards Grant, who was still standing on the footpath outside Tara’s front gate.
Frowning.
‘I’ll see you later,’ she said, aware she hadn’t answered his question and wondering about her reluctance to do so.
Because he’d put into words her own doubts or because it was none of his business?
He nodded, but in such a way she knew he was aware of the omission.
And, no doubt, intended to rectify it.
It was none of his damn business where she got her money, Grant told himself as he walked back to the house.
Neither was being one room closer to her any different from where he’d been, he assured himself as he packed his extremely limited wardrobe and shifted into the smaller bedroom.
But whether it was proximity, or the nanny thing, or the thought of ‘Brian’ lending her money, not even a ride on his bike, a quiet ride past gum-shrouded waterholes and wide grassy plains stretching to the rugged mountains so familiar from his childhood, could lift the black mood that enveloped him.
Katie came home as he was stripping off his leathers.
‘I hope you haven’t been speeding. It’s bad enough you ride one of those death machines, without taking risks by going too fast.’
He turned towards her. She was still glowing—he hoped it was the yellow top, not Brian, prompting the inner light—and Cassie rested easily in one arm. Which should have stopped, not increased the rush of physical attraction that tightened every sinew in his body.
‘And what business is it of yours?’ he growled, and felt a spurt of satisfaction when she started at his tone.
‘I need a locum, that’s what business it is of mine,’ she snapped, recovering far too well. ‘At least until I get a second bathroom and a nanny.’
‘After which, as far as I’m concerned, I can kill myself on my bike?’ He spoke without thinking, giving way to some of the venom poisoning his blood.
She went so white he thought she’d faint, and he reached out automatically to grab hold of her. But she shook him off, glared at him, then said, ‘Don’t you ever say things like that, Grant Bell. Don’t you ever even think things like that!’
Then, clutching Cassie more tightly to her chest, she walked away, leaving Grant more shaken by her reaction—and his own reaction to her reaction—than by the words. Pulling his leathers back on and going for another ride wasn’t an option, though it was the most appealing idea.
He decided it must have been a momentary shock, perhaps to do with the fact she’d had the baby in her arms when she’d looked as if she’d faint, that had made his heart squeeze so hard it had hurt him. It had been a protection reflex, that’s all, and protection was a normal male reaction—to protect and procreate, weren’t they the basic reasons for men’s existence in the scheme of things?
He wouldn’t think about the procreating now, though certain aspects of it were never far from his mind these days. And he’d accept that the protection thing was simply instinctive—nothing to do with the fact that it was Katie who’d turned so white.
Though he’d better check she was OK.
He walked into the house, still confused, and found her, whatever she might have felt apparently forgotten, smiling as she chatted with Mr McConagle on the phone.
Which reminded him of the loan—and the question she hadn’t answered earlier.
Aware that it was none of his business, but needing to know nonetheless, he waited until she finished the call then tried a casual approach.
‘So, you got a bank loan for the extensions. Well done. Would you like a drink to celebrate? A small glass of white wine shouldn’t bother Cassie.’
He opened the fridge as he spoke, and pulled out the bottle of wine he’d bought earlier, then, aware of the silence descending on the room, turned to look at her.
At pinkness in her cheeks?
‘What’s wrong? What did you have to do? Have sex with him in the office?’
His voice, which had started as a low growl, grew harsher as imagination raised the level of his anger.
The pinkness turned to the red of rage and she stood up and stepped towards him, her arm lifting ready to swing towards his face.
He caught her wrist in time to stop the slap, but couldn’t stop the flow of words.
‘How dare you talk to me that way? How dare you even suggest such a thing? What’s wrong with you, Grant? What’s got you so screwed up your mind would even think of something like that?’
He heard the rage in her voice, but his own had gone way beyond the point of no return. Still holding her wrist gave him the power to draw her towards him.
With her face no more than six inches from his own, he answered.
‘I’ll tell you what’s got into me, Katie Fenton. You have. You and your short shorts and long legs and your tangled, sexy-as-hell hair, and living in the same house, seeing you, smelling you, sensing your presence in the air. It’s driving me to distraction—but it would only be sex, and I’d still be moving on, so in fairness to you I’m fighting it. Understand?’
Huge bewildered green eyes looked appealingly into his, and resolve, accompanied by good intentions, flew out the window.
‘But I can only take so much!’ he muttered, then he bent and claimed her softly parted lips, sealing whatever she might have been about to say with a kiss so hot and needy he felt her gasp before her body slumped against his and she slipped her wrist out of his grasp so she could reach for his shoulders to steady herself while she kissed him back.
He was aware of her softness, so different to the angular Katie he’d known, but the passion with which she responded was exactly how he remembered it, and the way it fed his own desire, like fierce winds fanning bush fires, reminded him of those wild encounters by the river.
When they stopped for air, and because he had to stop right then or carry her off to the bedroom to finish what he’d never intended starting, he had to steady her with his hands on her shoulders and ignore the silent appeal in those so expressive eyes.
Then she breathed deeply and put it into words.
‘I could probably do with some sex. It’s been a long time and it was never much fun with Mark.’
She spoke like someone in a dream, then shook her head and stepped away from him.
‘Though I wouldn’t ever do that to another woman—help her man to cheat. I couldn’t do that to Linda.’
Grant was so busy assimilating Katie’s bold confession about the sex that it took a while to work out who Linda was and why she’d entered the conversation. And by that time Katie was prattling on about Mr McConagle starting the following day and would Grant mind doing the morning session again as she had to sign Brian’s loan papers at the bank?
A jolt, different from the one he’d felt earlier but just as strong, all but rattled his bones.
‘Brian’s loan? You mean the bank’s loan.’
The pinkness that had started all of this returned to her cheeks, but this time it was accompanied by a defiant tilt of her slightly pointed chin.
‘No, I mean Brian’s loan. It’s a personal arrangement.’
‘But you can’t borrow money from him,’ Grant protested. ‘It puts you under an obligation and, giv
en the way he feels about you…’
Oops. Foot in mouth again—in fact, so far in it was probably lodged in his chest.
Katie’s eyes glittered dangerously, but her voice, when she spoke, was very soft.
‘And what business of yours is it? Whatever Brian does or doesn’t feel about me has nothing whatsoever to do with you!’
She stalked away before he could find an answer, though she obviously wouldn’t have listened even if he’d thought of something to say.
Damn it all! As she’d told him earlier, it was none of his business what she did and the sooner he got that into his thick skull, the sooner they could get things back onto a friendly footing.
Friendly footing? Hollow laughter sounded in his head. As if such a thing would be possible after that last kiss.
His body tightened at the memory then became more aroused as he remembered her admission that she wanted sex as much as he did.
Though she hadn’t stipulated him as a partner…
And Brian was lending her money…
Desire ebbed away.
Kate’s fury took her as far as the bedroom. She was aware she’d made things worse by pretending she’d already decided to accept Brian’s offer—and needling Grant with the pretence—but she’d been so confused by the kiss…
Fury gave way to guilt, only this time it wasn’t the guilt she’d felt when she’d realised how much she wanted to take Grant’s kisses further—when she knew full well he was engaged to another woman—but guilt that she could bring her anger so close to her child.
‘Sorry, little one,’ she said, peering into the crib and feeling relief that the baby slept on, apparently unaware of the tension Kate assumed had been radiating from her body.
She slumped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was her turn to cook dinner—steak and salad—and she should be in the kitchen, putting bits of lettuce in a salad bowl and chopping things to make the lettuce more interesting. But as her anger had eased, then been deliberately doused in the bedroom, an uncertainty had risen at the other end of her see-sawing emotions.
Was she wrong to borrow money from Brian? Would it put her under an obligation to him?
Yes, and yes, the stern internal killjoy said, in answer to these questions.
Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to go to the dinner-dance…
Though she was a bank customer, and if the bank was lending her money it should be OK.
Though the personal loan was still tempting…
No!
A light tap on the door startled her awake.
‘Katie! Are you there? Dinner’s ready.’
She leapt from the bed, horrified she’d been asleep, and raced to open the door.
‘It was my turn,’ she told Grant, who was hovering uncertainly in the hall. ‘I’m sorry! I must have fallen asleep.’
His lips eased into the grin that made her bones melt, even though she’d now remembered she was furious with him.
‘You probably needed it. And I had nothing to do, so it was no bother.’
He walked away, but not before she’d read confusion in his eyes.
Confused and uncertain?
Get real, Kate! She had to be imagining it.
But her own uncertainty had her hesitating now. She checked the baby, went through to the bathroom to drag a comb through her unruly hair and straighten the now crumpled skirt and top.
Perhaps she should change.
‘Come on, Katie. The steaks will go from medium to well done to charcoal if you don’t come now.’
Unable to dither any longer, she walked through to the kitchen where they ate all their meals. A spray of bougainvillaea rested in the centre of the table, place-mats were neatly aligned opposite each other and the presence of both wine and water glasses suggested there’d be another offer of a celebratory drink.
Was it an apology?
‘I made a Caesar salad and a potato salad, so help yourself while I whack the steaks onto a serving dish.’
It sounded like an apology—of sorts!
Kate helped herself to healthy portions of each of the salads, then held out her plate for the steak he was offering. Once again he smiled, this time as he slid the piece of meat onto the plate, but the blue eyes when they looked at her were still clouded with some emotion she didn’t understand.
Though lack of understanding didn’t stop the rush of longing that flooded through her body, a longing she recognised not as lust but love—love and the pain it brought in its train when the loved one was hurting.
He has a fiancée, and a city career awaiting him, and has told you all he wants from you is sex, so forget it, Kate.
The stern admonition had so little effect she might as well have saved her brain cells for working out how to combat the implications of this new revelation.
‘Eat!’
The order came so abruptly she glanced up, and once again the blue eyes were her undoing. Scrabbling around in her head for something to discuss before she blurted out how she was feeling, she remembered where the argument and kiss business had begun.
‘I considered getting a loan from Brian and not the bank because I really didn’t want it to get back to Dad. Although I know it’s unlikely it would, stranger things have happened. They’ll be coming for a visit as soon as they get home and I don’t want Dad spending the whole time lecturing me on keeping within my means.’
The words came out in a rush, but didn’t seem to appease her companion. Far from understanding, he looked even more annoyed than he had when she’d first mentioned Brian earlier.
‘What about credit cards and overdraft facilities? As a bank manager he could have increased your limit on those without anyone else being any the wiser.’
Kate contemplated this statement, and felt the frown puckering her brow. Although she’d nearly—well, almost certainly—decided not to get the loan from Brian, she still couldn’t fathom Grant’s interest.
Or his reaction.
‘But credit-card rates are really high, and I’ve already got an overdraft—that’s how I bought the house and practice. What’s so wrong with borrowing from Brian?’
She didn’t add, ‘from your point of view’, though that’s what she meant, as she knew her own reservations.
Grant’s frown looked far more ferocious than her own felt.
‘Because it puts you under an obligation—it’s not as if you know him well.’
‘Of course I know him well. He’s been a good friend to me since I came to Testament. He mows my lawn.’
‘Mowed your lawn,’ Grant corrected, still frowning. ‘And I thought I was a friend as well. Why not borrow from me?’
Kate cut a piece of steak, lifted it to her mouth and chewed carefully. She had about forty easy answers to Grant’s question. Why should I? I didn’t think of it. What would Linda think? Those were only three of them, but she had a feeling that, while the loan might be the obvious topic of conversation, there were undercurrents to it she didn’t understand.
But were they dangerous enough to sweep her away?
The idea was weird enough to ignore but the feeling too strong for her to banish completely, so she kept quiet about the second loan offer and pursued the matter—but trod carefully.
‘I intended getting it from the bank, but when I mentioned doing it quietly, Brian came up with the offer. It’s no big deal, Grant.’
It wasn’t, of course. Grant knew that, though he couldn’t bring himself to admit it to Katie.
Neither could he understand how screwed up it made him feel inside.
‘Well, as long as you don’t feel under any obligation,’ he managed to reply, hoping his voice didn’t sound quite as growly to Katie as it did in his own ears. Then, just as things might have settled back onto an even keel, some malign fate reminded him of the remark Katie had made earlier. ‘I could do with some sex,’ she’d said.
‘In any way!’ he added, not even attempting to hide the growl. ‘And you know what I mean! Yo
u’ve admitted to having sexual needs, and he’s been kind, and gratitude can be mistaken for other emotions and then you’ll end up in a tangle.’
‘You mean in his bed!’ Katie said, icy disdain sharpening her voice to razor-like proportions. ‘And you wanting to have sex with me while engaged to Linda isn’t getting you into a tangle?’ Kate’s green eyes glittered with something he didn’t quite understand. ‘I’ll admit I hadn’t quite thought of Brian that way,’ she continued, as cool as the ice in her voice, ‘but, now you mention it, he does have a good body and, yes, I’m a woman and I do have sexual needs, so maybe Saturday night, after the dinner-dance—’
‘You’re going out with him? See, it’s the obligation thing already. And having sex with a man because he has a good body is the most irresponsible thing I’ve ever heard of.’ Grant was on his feet, leaning across the table, wanting to grab her shoulders and shake her to make her understand. But the eyes that met his were now easy to read—they glowed with an anger so hot he wondered it wasn’t scorching his skin.
‘Are you suggesting that me having sex with someone with a bad body would be more acceptable?’
Grant slumped back into his chair and pushed his half-finished dinner away.
‘I’m not suggesting any such thing, Katie Fenton, and you bloody well know it.’ He searched for something else to say—something to make things at least part-way right between them again. ‘But you’ve Cassie to consider, and small-town gossip, and how that might affect her later on.’
‘Are you saying I should keep myself pure but frustrated, so Cassie doesn’t have kids whispering about her mother when she goes to school? For how long? Five years? Or eighteen, until she leaves home, when I can then have sex with every man in town?’
He could hear the quiver in her voice, and see the strength of her emotions in the trembling of her fingers. Devastated that he’d made such a total hash of things, he reached across the table and took her hand.
‘I’m sorry, Katie. I was way out of line. But I want so much for you to be happy, and for you and Cassie to have a wonderful and fulfilling life. And if that means having a man in your life, I hope you find one who truly loves and appreciates you.’ The words nearly choked him, but he got them said so he could add the rider. ‘But take your time. Don’t fall into bed with the first man who comes along. Guard your emotions so you don’t get hurt again.’
Christmas Knight Page 14