by Helen Brooks
‘I’m an inch taller than Emily and she has got some green in her eyes but mine are all brown, like Mummy’s.’
‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘Thank you, I’ll remember that.’
Emily, not to be outdone, had now joined her sister at Mitchell’s knee. ‘My grandma has got some green in her eyes too,’ she said importantly, ‘and my Uncle Peter.’
‘Have they?’ Mitchell glanced at the two women for a moment before his gaze returned to the twins. All four faces were so alike it was almost comical, like three stages of life in one person. ‘Well, you’ve both got very pretty eyes, your grandma and mummy too.’
The girls beamed at him and Kay realised she had to get a handle on this, and fast. ‘Georgia, Emily, you go up with Grandma now and get changed out of your school uniform,’ she said briskly. ‘When you’re washed and changed you can come down and have a glass of milk and a biscuit, okay?’
‘Will you still be here?’ Georgia asked Mitchell, without glancing in Kay’s direction.
‘I’m not sure.’ The silver eyes passed over Kay’s face, which now, far from being drained of colour, was burning hot. ‘You’d better ask your mummy that.’
‘Mummy—’
‘Georgia.’
It was obvious the tone was one the twins recognised because they turned from Mitchell without another word, walking over to Leonora who had her hands outstretched for them and leaving the room with just a wave at Mitchell.
‘They’re delightful.’ As the door closed he pre-empted what Kay had been about to say, following the statement by taking a huge bite of the carrot cake.
Kay stared at him, aware her face was on fire but unable to do anything about it as she said, ‘Mr Grey, why are you here?’
‘Mitchell, please.’ It was soft, but carried a warning in the lazy tone. ‘Unless you prefer Mitch, of course?’
‘I don’t prefer anything.’
He nodded, taking another bite of cake as though he had every right to sit at her dining table.
He was angry, furiously angry with her. Kay didn’t know how she came by this knowledge because the hard, handsome face was to all intents and purposes relaxed and sociable, the unusual ice-blue eyes clear and inscrutable. She decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘You’re angry.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘And I can understand that but it doesn’t give you the right to come to my home like this.’
‘I disagree,’ he said, the conversational tone not fooling her for a minute.
She decided to try another tack. ‘How did you get my address, anyway?’ she asked hotly, forcing the aggression into her voice when really she was having a job to hide the trembling in her stomach.
Did she have any idea how young and vulnerable she looked standing like that, her whole stance one of hostility but her mouth and eyes betraying her panic and alarm? Damn it, she was looking at him as though he were some sort of monster. The thought increased Mitchell’s fury rather than diffusing it. ‘Obtaining your address was not difficult,’ he said evenly. ‘I had your name and telephone number, after all.’
‘I don’t want you here, distressing my mother and frightening the girls.’ Even to Kay’s own ears it sounded ridiculous. Her mother had clearly taken to him and he’d had the twins eating out of his hand.
‘Then you shouldn’t have bolted like a scared rabbit, should you?’ he drawled with insufferable detachment. ‘Surprising though it may seem, I didn’t appreciate the position you put me in this lunchtime. Neither do I countenance the waste of good food,’ he added indolently.
‘You left me with no other choice,’ she shot back.
‘Forgive me if I don’t see it that way.’
‘I don’t like bullies.’
‘Neither do I,’ he agreed, as though it had been an objective statement.
Kay glared at him even as she asked herself exactly what it was about this man that made her react with such uncharacteristic antagonism. She had no illusions about the male of the species, not any more, but until Mitchell Grey had come on the scene she had been able to handle them just fine. If nothing else, the last few years—when she had carved out a life and a career for herself, and become sole provider for her mother and the girls—had taught her she was more than capable of surviving without a man. And with that knowledge had come confidence and self-respect.
Mitchell finished the last of the cake, smacking his lips appreciatively as he said, ‘Your mother’s an excellent cook. It’s been years since I had carrot cake, and I was starving.’
She didn’t miss the innuendo in the last words but chose to ignore it. She had to get him out of here, now, and if an apology was what he’d come for it was a small price to pay to end this fiasco. Nevertheless, she found the words stuck in her throat. She swallowed, glancing at him as she searched for the right tone—cool, collected and not too penitent.
The blue eyes were tight on her, silver-bright and unblinking, the corners of his mouth curved just enough in a cynical twist to tell her he knew exactly what she was thinking and what had motivated the forthcoming apology. It immediately withered and died. ‘I’d like you to leave right now, Mr Grey,’ she said crisply, her heart thumping painfully.
He folded his arms over his chest, settling more comfortably on the chair as he studied her interestedly—much as he’d done in the restaurant. ‘I’m sure you would, Mrs Sherwood,’ he said softly, the quiet emphasis on her name telling Kay her formal approach had been noted and was not appreciated. ‘Tell me,’ he continued, as though her demand had not been voiced, ‘how did you leave the restaurant without my seeing you? I know it wasn’t through the kitchens.’
Kay blinked. She’d half expected whoever had been sent to look for her would click onto what she’d done, but if he didn’t know already there was no way she was telling him of her ignominious exit. She shrugged carefully. ‘Does it matter?’ she asked, forcing boredom into her voice.
‘Do you know, I rather think it does—to me, that is.’ His voice was low and rough now and for the first time Kay caught a glimpse of his outrage. It was immensely satisfying.
It was also an entirely inappropriate moment to feel amused but she couldn’t help it, and although she kept her face straight it was clear he had sensed something when he said, ‘Well? I’m not leaving until I receive the courtesy of an answer.’
Oh, to blazes with it! ‘I climbed out of the washroom window,’ she admitted expressionlessly.
There was a long moment of silence and then Mitchell began to laugh. Not a snigger or a sarcastic chortle, but a bust-a-gut roar of laughter that took Kay completely by surprise. She tried unsuccessfully to stifle her own amusement but his hilarity was infectious, albeit he was laughing at her, and she was still grinning when the silver-blue gaze swept her face again. ‘I bet Harringtons had never seen anything like it before, and in that skirt,’ he said, his voice still vibrating. ‘You were fortunate not to do yourself an injury.’
She thought of her lacerated knees. ‘Possibly.’
‘And you would really rather dive out of a window than endure a lunch with me?’ He’d stopped laughing now and something in his voice made the colour flare in her face.
‘I… I don’t like to be tricked,’ she managed falteringly.
‘And if you weren’t tricked, what then?’ he asked very softly, his voice oozing something that sent a tingle down her spine. He stood up as he spoke and she felt her body tense as he walked over to her, the overall height and breadth of him making her feel as small as the twins.
‘I…told you, I don’t date.’ She wanted to take a step backwards but as he wasn’t touching her it seemed silly, besides which she was worried it would give the wrong signals. She wasn’t frightened of him, no way, she assured herself silently.
‘Never?’
‘Never,’ she said firmly. ‘There’s the twins to take care of.’
‘Your mother wouldn’t babysit for one evening while you go out?’ he asked gently. ‘I find that hard to believe. Sh
e seems a very nice woman.’
‘She is,’ Kay said hotly, ‘and of course she’d babysit if I asked her but I choose not to. I prefer not to get involved…’ Her voice trailed away as the faint seductive fragrance of his body warmth surrounded her. Kay’s stomach clenched in protest at the tingles it was invoking. He wasn’t even holding her so how come she felt hot and weak? she asked herself helplessly, a shiver of excitement dancing over her skin.
‘So do I.’ He looked down at her, the black of his hair throwing his tanned skin and mercurial eyes into even more prominence. ‘I thought we’d already established earlier we’re two of a kind? Free, self-determining, autonomous.’
Kay stared into the strongly chiselled features. Men were not to be trusted. They said one thing and meant another, and when the another led to a desire to control and subjugate the woman was fighting an uphill battle to retain her individuality. Why, even her father—good as he had been—had gambled with her mother’s peace of mind and security for the future and lost everything without even telling her what he’d been doing. Men were a different species.
‘I like women,’ Mitchell said softly, ‘but that doesn’t mean I’m prepared to walk into a snare or set one for someone else. Fairy tales—one man, one woman and a lifetime of for ever—are for children.’
‘I don’t—’ She stopped, her cheeks burning. ‘I don’t sleep around.’
‘Good. Neither do I.’
‘I meant—’
‘I know what you meant, Kay.’ He reached out and ran one finger gently down her cheek, his touch feather-light.
She felt it in every fibre of her body. ‘And I have no expectations, okay? I’m not a green callow youth who can only enjoy a woman’s company if the end of the evening results in animal mating. Sex is more than that, it requires mental as well as physical stimulation and this is always better when a couple know each other and have built up a level of trust. One-night stands are not my idea of a good time.’
She didn’t believe she was having this conversation. She had only ever slept with one man—Perry—in the whole of her life, and she had given him her body because he’d had her heart too. Mitchell was talking about something else entirely.
‘I’m sorry.’ Now she did take a step away from him, willing herself to puncture the seductive bubble he’d woven round them in the last minute or two. ‘I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want a relationship in any shape or form. I’m not ready to start dating again.’
He took her into his arms before she realised what he was doing, kissing her firmly but without undue force or roughness. She was rigid for a moment but, before she could struggle or object to the nearness of him, the delicious scent she’d smelt earlier and the feel of his body, hard and sure, wove a spell. She didn’t actively respond, not at first; the sensations she was experiencing were too new and amazing for that, but as his mouth continued to caress hers, demanding greater and greater access, her body curved into his in unconscious pleasure.
She had never imagined in all her wildest dreams that a man could kiss like this, she thought dazedly. It was intoxicating, a sexual experience all in itself and as unlike anything Perry had ever done as chalk to cheese. Perry had kissed her only as a necessary preliminary to lovemaking, something to be moved on from swiftly to the real crux of the matter, but this…
His tongue rippled along her teeth before probing the inner sweetness of her mouth and her eyes opened wide in startled pleasure at the sensation it created, little needles of desire beginning to jab in her lower stomach. Her hands had been clenched stiffly against his chest but now they moved almost of their own volition to the broad shoulders, her eyelids closing in drugged enjoyment.
Her breasts were crushed against the wall of his chest, the slightest movement between them creating waves of pleasure radiating from their hard peaks, and she had to restrain herself from arching against him like a hungry cat.
‘Kay?’ As he moved her away from him to arm’s length she opened bewildered eyes, staring at him as he murmured softly, ‘I think the twins are on their way down.’
It was a drenching shock to realise she had been blind and deaf to the girls’ approach when they burst into the kitchen a moment or two later, but in her customary inspection of two pairs of small hands before the milk and biscuits were served Kay pulled herself together.
‘I’m glad you’re still here.’ Georgia’s first words were for Mitchell. ‘Have you finished talking to Mummy yet?’
‘Yes, we’re finished.’ Kay answered her daughter before Mitchell could, her voice amazingly controlled considering how she was feeling inside. ‘Now go and sit at the table, please.’
‘Grandma says you’re a friend of Mummy’s,’ Emily put in as she bounded across to the dining table after Georgia. ‘Does that mean you’ll come again?’
‘Would you like me to come again?’ Mitchell prevaricated, smiling into the two little faces that were so like their mother’s.
‘Yes!’ They answered in unison.
‘Then we’ll have to see.’
Over her dead body. Kay smiled a tight smile before she said, ‘Say goodbye to Mr Grey,’ as she placed the two glasses and biscuits in front of the twins. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
She walked across to the kitchen door, opening it and waiting for Mitchell to precede her into the sitting room, which he did after one cryptic glance at her set face. Leonora was just descending the stairs, and as the older woman’s eyes flew from her daughter’s face to Mitchell’s, and then back to Kay’s, Kay said, ‘Could you watch the girls a moment while I see Mr Grey out?’
‘Certainly.’ Leonora didn’t remark that the twins were more than capable of drinking their milk and eating the biscuits without supervision, but what she did say was, and warmly—much to Kay’s annoyance—‘It was very nice to meet you, Mitch.’
‘Likewise, and the carrot cake was wonderful.’
‘Thank you.’ Leonora dimpled and Kay felt like shaking her.
As Mitchell opened the front door and stepped outside Kay heard her mother shut the kitchen door with a very deliberate click, which spoke of her disapproval of her daughter’s attitude. She gritted her teeth and then, as he turned to face her, said firmly, ‘Goodbye,’ before spoiling the curtness by adding—as the thought struck—‘Where’s your car?’
‘Worried I might have to thumb a lift?’ It was mocking. ‘My chauffeur is parked round the corner and no doubt taking the opportunity to have a little nap,’ Mitchell said softly. ‘And before you ask, yes, I did make sure you wouldn’t see the car when you came home. I thought you might bolt again.’
He made her sound like a temperamental pony. She glared at him, trying not to notice how daunting his height was.
‘I’ll pick you up at eight, by the way.’ He had turned on his heel and was halfway down the garden path before her shriek made him noticeably wince.
‘I’m not going anywhere with you tonight!’
He turned, a cool smile twisting his lips. ‘Wrong,’ he said silkily.
Was he mad or was it her? Because one of them must be. ‘I thought I had made myself perfectly clear,’ she said tightly.
‘What you made clear, Kay, was that you need to be kissed,’ he said with outrageous equanimity. She had also revealed—unwittingly but absolutely—that this ex-husband of hers had been the sort of man who took rather than gave. She might have the twins as proof that she was not unaccustomed as to what transpired between a man and a woman, but he would bet his bottom dollar that she was sexually unawakened.
He felt his body leap in response to the thought, hardening as it had done when he had held her. Was she freckled all over? he asked himself. He intended to find out. But he wouldn’t rush her; she was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof as it was.
‘I do not need to be kissed!’ She had followed him halfway down the path, her voice a low hiss. ‘And I especially do not want to be kissed by you.’ Her voice was all the more adamant because she was lying t
o herself as well as him.
‘Then I’ll have to work on that,’ Mitchell murmured thoughtfully. ‘Every woman should want to be kissed.’
For goodness’ sake! His skin must be inches thick, or perhaps it was just a giant ego that couldn’t take no for an answer? ‘That’s such a typical male comment,’ she said as scathingly as she could.
‘There is nothing typical about me, Kay, as I intend to show you, but all in good time. For now I’m suggesting nothing more threatening than a good meal and a relaxed evening where you can unwind a little. You’ve obviously forgotten how to have fun but fortunately I know how to remedy that.’ He smiled as if his words were perfectly innocent but she had seen the gleam in the back of his eyes. ‘I’ll pick you up later and don’t bother to dress up, this place is very low-key. And before you object again—’ he had seen her open her mouth in protest ‘—I’m not above using force to get my own way. Would you really like to upset the twins by letting them see their mother carried off kicking and screaming?’
‘That’s blackmail.’
‘Dead right it is, and very useful at times.’
She glared at him, the last of the evening sunlight catching the red in her hair and turning it to living flame. ‘You’re despicable,’ she ground out through clenched teeth.
‘Like the song, “Baby, You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet”.’ He grinned at her, totally unabashed, and turned, striding off down the path and out of the gate without a backward glance.
Kay stood for some moments in the quiet of the evening, but apart from a dog barking in the distance somewhere and the sound of children calling to each other she heard nothing. Wherever he had stationed his car it wasn’t close enough to hear the engine start.
She walked to the end of the path, leaning on the gate as she glanced up and down the quiet tree-lined street in which they lived. She had loved this street as soon as she had seen it; it was a higgledy-piggledy hotchpotch of houses, some small and some large, detached, semi-detached and even a small row of terraced Victorian houses at the very end of the road, and her tiny detached property sat right in the middle of it all.