Miranda Lee - Contract with Consequences

‘Let’s just take this one step at a time,’ he said softly, his eyes holding hers. ‘You like to be kissed, don’t you? When you’re with a man you’re attracted to, that is.’

She blinked, then nodded.

Scarlet thought he was going to kiss her. But he didn’t. Instead, he released her chin then lifted his hand to rub two of his fingertips back and forth along her lower lip, before tracing the full circle of her mouth over and over. Soon, her lips were tingling, her heart was pounding madly in her chest and she was dying for him to kiss her. Her mouth fell open as she struggled for breath, her tongue drying as she sucked in much-needed air. At which point he finally did what she craved: removed his fingers and replaced them with his lips.

It was a kiss such as she had never experienced before. Perversely restrained, but incredibly exciting. He cupped her face as he gently caressed her swollen lips, till a frustrated moan escaped her throat. Only then did he deepen the kiss, his lips applying more pressure, holding her lips far enough apart for his tongue to slide into her mouth.

Scarlet’s head whirled. She could not think straight. Neither did she care. All she wanted was for John to keep on kissing her.

But he didn’t.

She made some sort of protest when his mouth lifted abruptly from hers. A moan. A groan. She could not be sure which.

When she stared up at John she saw that he didn’t seem at all rattled.

‘I take it then,’ he said coolly, ‘that you find me attractive?’

Her stare became a glare. ‘You’re an arrogant bastard, John Mitchell.’

His smile widened. ‘And you’re incredibly beautiful, Scarlet King.’

She pursed her lips in defiance at the involuntary pleasure his compliment gave her.

‘You’re also not even a little bit frigid.’

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed frustratedly. ‘You really are the most annoying man.’

‘But an attractive one,’ he reminded her with a perfectly straight face.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. ‘Whatever am I going to do with you?’ she said without thinking.

John’s eyebrows arched, his eyes twinkling suggestively.

Scarlet’s own blue eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you dare say another thing. Now, I’m going to go unpack in one of the guest bedrooms. I’d love the one with the turquoise flowers, if it’s okay with you? Meanwhile, I don’t suppose there’s any food about?’

‘Unfortunately, cooking is not my forte either,’ he returned. ‘So the best I can offer you is takeaway for tonight. But I know lots of local Asian-style restaurants who’ll deliver within half an hour. What would you prefer? Chinese? Thai? Vietnamese?’

‘I’m not fussy,’ she said. ‘You choose.’

‘Thai it is, then,’ he said as they both turned and walked back into the living room. ‘Join me back in here when you’re ready. I bought some snacks and some wine in anticipation of your visit.’

Scarlet almost told him that she didn’t usually drink much; that she’d just been upset that day. But she didn’t want to bring up the subject of her ongoing failure to conceive a child. For a while there, she’d forgotten about that. She’d forgotten to ring her mother as well. Oh dear.

‘I’ll have to ring my mother first before I do another thing,’ she said, feeling terribly guilty. ‘Let her know I’ve arrived safely.’

‘Fine. You do that. I’ll go ring the restaurant. And Scarlet…?’

‘What?’

‘You can relax; I promise I won’t be making you to do anything you don’t want to.’ His mouth curled up in a wicked smile. ‘Not unless you beg me, anyway.’

A WORRIED Janet King jumped to answer the phone as soon as it rang, relief flooding through her when she saw it was her daughter’s mobile number on the display. She’d always hated flying and had been tense all afternoon at the salon, especially when the estimated time of arrival of Scarlet’s flight had come and gone without a call. She’d been glad to come home where she didn’t have to make polite conversation and where she could show her agitation by grumbling at the news reader on the television. Her nerve-endings were still strung out as she swept the receiver up to her ear.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Scarlet said before she could utter a word. ‘You can relax now. The plane didn’t crash and I’m safely at the hotel.’

‘I wish you’d rung me from the airport,’ Janet said plaintively. ‘I’ve been worried sick.’ The words were barely out of her mouth when she regretted them. She hated mothers who talked like that to their adult children. It put them in a terrible position.

Scarlet smothered a sigh. ‘Sorry. I thought I’d wait till I got to the hotel so that I could tell you about it.’

‘I’m the one who’s sorry, darling. You’ve gone up there for a rest and here I am, putting guilt trips on you already. I promise not to keep on being a pain. Or to expect you to ring me all the time. But, yes, I would like to know about the hotel. Is your room nice?’

Scarlet moved over to sit on one of the huge black leather sofas, amazed at how soft and comfortable it was. ‘Very,’ she said as she leant back into its squashy depths. ‘Has all the mod cons and a view of the harbour.’

‘You never did tell me how much you paid for it.’

Scarlet winced at the lies she’d told, both directly and by omission. She hadn’t realised how awkward things could become. ‘Actually, I didn’t just book a room, Mum. It’s an apartment.’

‘Goodness! It’s not like you to be so extravagant, Scarlet, except perhaps when it comes to clothes. Not that I’m complaining, mind. You deserve some spoiling after all you’ve been through.’

It was ironic that, right at that moment, John came into the living room carrying a frosted glass of white wine which he handed to Scarlet, who mouthed, “Thank you,” before lifting the glass to her lips. She had a feeling she was going to need a drink or two before this night was out.

‘You’ll have to send me some photos of the place,’ her mother added.

Scarlet took a sip of the deliciously chilled wine whilst wondering how she could avoid doing that. Perhaps she could just send photos of the view, the guest bedroom, half the main bathroom and about a quarter of the humungous kitchen. But not right now.

‘Can I leave that till tomorrow morning, Mum? I’m pretty bushed tonight. I just want to have a shower and go straight to bed.’

‘Without eating anything?’

‘I won’t starve, Mum. There’s a small stock of essentials in the kitchen,’ she said truthfully. John had shown her the floor-to-ceiling pantry. ‘It’s lovely. There’s even a complimentary bottle of very good white wine in the fridge.’ She raised her glass in a toast-like gesture to John who’d settled himself on the sofa adjacent to hers. He smiled back whilst stretching his long arms along the back of the sofa, looking ridiculously sexy.

A distracting thought. It reminded her of an explicit image she’d briefly entertained last week. It was difficult for her mind not to dwell on her fantasy, when she would soon become extremely intimate with the real thing.

Though not tonight…

Was she really relieved about that?

Scarlet could not deny that, whilst she was still nervous about going to bed with John, she no longer felt afraid of it. Perversely, she was almost looking forward to it. A man who kissed as well and as imaginatively as he did would surely be a good lover. Gosh, he really did have a great body.

When she felt in danger of ogling him again, Scarlet reefed her eyes away and focused firmly on her conversation with her mother.

‘So how did you cope today without me?’ she asked.