Sharon Kendrik - No Escaping Love

Ten o’clock sharp, he had said, so she had to hurry, although, as she towelled herself dry after a brief shower, she decided that it wouldn’t come as any great shock to her to learn that he had reconsidered his job offer after the orange juice incident.

She dressed in a simple black tunic, but she relieved its starkness with a scarlet ribbon at the nape of her neck which loosely tied back the thick black curls.

Feeling ready to face the world—or, more importantly, him—she opened her bedroom door, hoping against hope to find the sitting-room empty, but she was out of luck, for he sat there at the table by the window, as large as life, with a coffee-pot steaming in front of him.

He looked up as she entered, and she braced herself for a barrage of abuse, or a cold dismissal, but there was neither—he barely glanced up from his newspaper, except to say, ‘The coffee’s fresh,’ gesturing to the pot before him.

She hesitated for a moment, and eventually he looked up at her, his expression as inscrutable as if it had been carved in marble.

‘About last night,’ she began.

‘Forget it,’ came the curt rejoinder.

What was it that made her persist, when his tone expressly forbade it? ‘But I…’

‘I said forget it!’ The green eyes looked as dark as jade.

‘I didn’t want you to think—’ she began stubbornly. What? That she’d been out to seduce him?

‘Listen to me,’ he interrupted exasperatedly. ‘I thought nothing. Do you understand? Nothing. You may have thought it appropriate to act like some damsel in distress—personally I thought your reaction was way over the top.’ A cynical smile twisted his lips. ‘Cowering in the corner, defending your supposed honour. Believe me, what I saw was less than I’d have seen on any beach anywhere in the world, and certainly nothing to get excited about. So can we please drop it?’ He picked up his newspaper summarily. ‘Now eat up your toast like a good girl,’ he finished sarcastically.

She forced her hand to remain steady as she reached out for the coffee-pot, scarcely crediting what she’d heard, too stung by his cutting put-down to be able to think of a suitable retort. Nothing to get excited about! What a nerve! Of all the high-handed, arrogant swines, she thought as she determinedly ate her way through one slice of toast and began a second—she was not going to let him see how angry his hurtful comments had made her, by being off her food!

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