Kay Thorpe - Worlds Apart

Cover Page

Excerpt “I won’t…sleep with you, Logan.” His smile was hard-edged. “I’d as soon have you wide awake.” “You know what I’m talking about.” Caryn’s voice was ragged. “You can joke about it all you like, but I’m serious!” “Who’s joking?” He was looking at her now as if he were seeing her for the first time— and not particularly liking what he saw.

About the Author KAY THORPE was born in Sheffield, England, in 1935. She tried out a variety of jobs after leaving school. Writing began as a hobby, becoming a way of life only after she had her first completed novel accepted for publication in 1968. Since then, she’s written over fifty and lives now with her husband, son, German shepherd dog and lucky black cat on the outskirts of Chesterfield in Derbyshire, England. Her interests include reading, hiking and travel.

Title Page Worlds Apart Kay Thorpe www.millsandboon.co.uk

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

His smile was hard-edged. “I’d as soon have you wide awake.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Caryn’s voice was ragged. “You can joke about it all you like, but I’m serious!”

“Who’s joking?” He was looking at her now as if he were seeing her for the first time— and not particularly liking what he saw.

KAY THORPEwas born in Sheffield, England, in 1935. She tried out a variety of jobs after leaving school. Writing began as a hobby, becoming a way of life only after she had her first completed novel accepted for publication in 1968. Since then, she’s written over fifty and lives now with her husband, son, German shepherd dog and lucky black cat on the outskirts of Chesterfield in Derbyshire, England. Her interests include reading, hiking and travel.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

THE sea was way out at present, the evening tide not due to turn for another hour or so, although when it did it came in fast.

Caryn headed away from the town, carrying her shoes in her hand in order to feel the sand gritting between her toes. Living on the coast was one of life’s compensations as far as she was concerned. She always felt sorry for those who only saw the sea infrequently.

As always when she came down here at this time of day, this time of year, memory came flooding back fullforce. She wasn’t sure why she continued to do it—unless it was to keep the hatred alive in her heart. At sixteen she hadn’t known what it was to hate, until Logan Bannister had taught her. Even after two years, the hurt of it could still constrict her throat.

Lost in the past, she neither saw nor heard the horse approaching, only becoming aware when it was almost on her. She stood rooted to the spot as the man astride the big chestnut brought it to a halt in front of her, gazing up at him in disbelief. Her mind was playing tricks on her; it had to be!

Steely grey eyes slid over her, taking in every detail of her piquant features under the heavy crop of blonde hair before moving on down to linger for a lengthy moment on the jut of her firm young breasts beneath the thin cotton of her shirt. A muscle jerked faintly in the welldefined jaw line.

‘Hello, Caryn,’ he said, coming back to her face. ‘You’ve grown up.’

‘It happens to us all,’ she responded with an effort, fighting the shock. ‘Some faster than others.’

The muscle jerked again, and his hands tightened momentarily on the reins. His smile was brief and wry. ‘You’ve also acquired a sharp tongue.’

‘Only where I consider it merited.’ Caryn was surprised by her own turn of phrase. She drew herself up to her full five feet four and slid her hands into her jeans pockets, unaware of how the movement emphasised the slender curve of her hips. ‘How long are you home for?’

One dark brow lifted. ‘Is it important to you?’

‘Not to me,’ she claimed, ‘but it may be to Margot.’

‘I hardly think so. She married Duncan Ashley.’

‘On the rebound. After you ran out on her!’

Sensing the animosity simmering in the air, the chestnut made a restless movement, brought under control by the firmness of the hands holding the rein. Logan Bannister slid a leg over the animal’s back and dropped lithely to the ground, tall and leanly muscled in the tailored breeches and fine white shirt. His shoulders were broad and powerful, his forearms tanned the colour of old teak beneath their light coating of dark hair. His face was tanned too, skin stretched taut over hard male cheekbones. Looking up at him from her eight or more inches disadvantage, Caryn felt every nerve in her body tense anew.

‘One thing we should have clear,’ he said softly. ‘I never at any time gave Margot grounds to believe we had a future together. If she thought otherwise, then I’m afraid she was mistaken.’

Blue eyes flashed. ‘You mean she was just one more scalp to your belt!’

Anger flared in the grey eyes and just as abruptly faded, replaced by a weary acceptance. ‘You don’t have to remind me. I’ve lived with it this last two years.’

‘You think I haven’t?’ This time there was no attempt at concealment. ‘For all you knew—or cared—I might have been pregnant!’

‘If you had been I would have heard about it,’ he said.

‘And done what?’ she demanded. ‘Come back and married me?’

His lips twisted. ‘I’d have faced whatever music I was called on to face, but I doubt if marriage would have been seen as the ideal solution by anyone at the time.’

Caryn drew in an unsteady breath. He was so much in control of the situation, so utterly unrepentant. When she found her voice again there was venom in it. ‘There are no circumstances in which I would have considered marrying a rapist!’

‘Rapist?’ The tone was ironic. ‘I don’t seem to recall having to use any force.’

She flushed hotly, only too well aware that the word had been ill-chosen. ‘Seducer, then,’ she substituted, rallying her forces with an effort.

‘But from which side did the seduction come?’ The question was dangerously soft and silky. ‘You were so eager for my kisses, for the touch of my hands—for anything and everything I wanted to do to you. Did you make one attempt to stop me?’

‘Swine!’ Her voice choked off. Blinking back the hot, fierce tears, she turned blindly away.

‘Caryn, wait!’ He was right behind her, seizing her by the shoulder to spin her back towards him. There was regret in the grey eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘Why not?’ she asked huskily. ‘It’s true. I threw myself at you.’

‘But I didn’t have to respond,’ he said. ‘If I’d packed you off home that night the way I should have done, it would never have happened. I was the one at fault, not you.’

She was silent, gazing up at him, conscious of the burning warmth of his fingers reaching through to her skin—those same fingers that had once caressed her with such tender passion; her breasts tingled at the very memory of it. He aroused the same feelings in her now as then, she acknowledged, distressing though it was to admit it. Only it made no difference to her hatred of him.