Don't Hurt Me (10 page)

  
Her eyes shot open and she stared
up into Marshall’s ironic gaze. She must have fallen asleep without meaning to.
Now he had found her here, stretched out on the sofa where he was meant to be
sleeping, and drawn the obvious conclusion. Julia looked up at him, her mouth
dry as she took in that lean and muscular body, his face almost pirate-like
with its cruel jagged scar.

  
He leant forward, his chest bare
and curling with short dark hairs, wearing nothing but a short white towel
wrapped around his waist.
  
‘Waiting
for me, darling?’ he murmured, stroking a loose strand of hair away from her
face. ‘I would have been quicker in the bathroom if I’d realised.’

  
Dazed and sleepy, she tried to sit
up and he moved with the speed of a striking snake, pinning her against the
sofa.

  
‘Oh no, not so fast,’ Marshall said,
and before she could even begin to explain, his mouth had descended and they
were kissing.

  
 
Within seconds of their mouths meeting, a
hot flush had begun to sweep across her body. She closed her eyes and felt his
tight grip on her wrists loosen and fall away. Part of her wanted to break
away, tell him to go to hell. But her arms arched about his neck, brushing the
dark hairs there with a hunger she had not realised she possessed. He shifted
to lie next to her on the sofa, his knee pushing against hers. No longer
bothering to struggle, she let him press her back into the soft blankets.

  
His back was still slightly damp
from the shower and she ran her trembling hands over it, reading the smooth
curve of his spine like Braille. Her face burnt as she realised what she wanted
him to do, how far she was willing to take this. Almost as though Marshall was
aware of her thoughts, his kiss deepened, warm and seductive, until she fell
back, too drugged to resist.

  
Oh God, yes, she thought. She
remembered how he had touched and kissed her so intimately in the lean-to, and
her body responded violently. She wanted that again. She needed him. She needed
this
.

  
Her hands continued to move lower,
restlessly exploring the taut flesh of his abdomen, and heard him groan something
under his breath. The blood was thundering in her veins, loud and insistent.
She had never experienced such fierce sexual intensity before. He lifted her in
his arms and her hands clutched at his powerful shoulders as though she were
drowning.

  
‘Now tell me you don’t feel the
same,’ he said thickly, carrying her through to the bedroom. He kicked the door
open and laid her on the bed, staring down into her face, his eyes heavy-lidded
with passion. ‘There’s such a raw edge to you, it’s been driving me crazy. What
we did last time isn’t enough. I thought it would be, but I was wrong. Fight me
if you must, but just looking at your body makes me want to be inside you.’

  
She looked back at him without
replying, suddenly incapable of speech, mute and shaking, her whole body on
fire for him. There was no point pretending anymore, she thought wildly, even
if it meant making a fool of herself tonight. However many women he might have
in his life, she still wanted him badly. Cupping her face in his hands, Marshall
started to kiss her again, the hard muscular thighs pressing urgently against
her as they lay together in the darkness of her bedroom, lost in the physical
need that drove them both.

  
This instant sexual attraction
between them could not be real, she told herself. It might feel fantastic now,
but they would surely tire of each other within a short space of time and then
everything would be ruined. They were meant to be colleagues, not lovers. She
groaned aloud, knowing she had to drag herself back from the edge before it was
too late and save them both the embarrassment of facing each other across the
pillows tomorrow morning.

  
Breaking free from his kiss, she
tried to push the searching hands away. ‘I can’t, ‘ she muttered, almost
incoherent, still fighting her need to continue. ‘You were right last time when
you said it was a bad idea. It’s too soon to take it to this level, Marshall.
We still barely know each other.’

  
‘We know this about each other,’ he
corrected her, pressing his mouth hotly against the side of her throat. His
hands returned to her breasts in the lacy bra, making her body arch in
reaction. ‘And this.’

  
She rolled away from him,
shuddering with desire but determined not to give in to it. ‘That’s just sex.’

  
There was silence for a moment,
then she felt Marshall shift on the mattress, sitting up. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said,
with heavy irony. ‘Wasn’t sex the whole point of what we’ve been doing?’

  
She buried her hot face against the
sheets, flinching at the note in his voice. This was becoming a nightmare. Now
he thought her gauche and unsophisticated, the prudish sort who never went to
bed with a man unless he had promised her a wedding ring. It was not like that
at all, she thought wearily. But how to make herself understood without
revealing the confused emotions raging inside her? Perhaps it was better simply
to say nothing and let him think the worst.

  
‘I’ve got a headache,’ she said
lamely, and sat up again.

  
‘How very sudden.’

  
Rearranging her clothes, she
decided to ignore the sarcasm and glanced pointedly at her bedside clock
instead.

  
‘I really do need to sleep,’ she
added with forced politeness. That much was true at least, she was utterly
exhausted by the events of the evening. The last thing she needed right now was
some long drawn-out argument, especially not in the intimate setting of her
bedroom. ‘We can talk in the morning.’

  
‘Oh, I don’t think that will be
necessary,’ he drawled, standing up and looking down at her, a hard line of
colour in his face. His eyes stripped her with contemptuous ease for a moment,
then he shrugged and turned on his heel. ‘You’re not my type, anyway.’

  
Making a face at his back, Julia
sat there grimly for a while after the door had closed behind him, then
stumbled to her feet and began to undress. She snapped on her bedside light to
see what she was doing, exhaustedly stepping out of her creased t-shirt and
jeans and dropping them in the wicker basket to be washed. If it had not been
the early hours of the morning, she too would have opted for a quick wash. But
her shower was incredibly noisy and she did not want to wake Mr Parsloe on the
floor above.

  
Not
my type
. The phrase kept echoing through her mind like some infuriating
commercial jingle, leaving her flushed and angry. She set her alarm for seven
o’clock, not sure if she would be able to wake up without it, and climbed
between the sheets with her eyes closed tight.

  
Sleep evaded her in spite of her
tiredness. She lay on her back for some time, staring up at the dark ceiling
and trying hard not to remember how he had kissed that Sasha woman at Moor’s
Peak, his arm linked intimately around her waist. But it was not an image she
found easy to forget, considering that only minutes before she herself had been
lying with Marshall in the tree house.

  
Making an explosive noise under her
breath, she turned her face firmly towards the wall and attempted to sleep.
Not my type.
That had not stopped him
kissing her though.
 

  
It was a little before three in the
morning when she stirred, hearing the muffled tones of a mobile from the living
room. Her own mobile was on the bedside table, so it had to be Marshall’s phone
that was ringing. She lay there in silence, waiting for him to answer it, but
there was no sound of movement from the other room.

  
Who on earth could be ringing him
at this hour of the morning? Perhaps it was Sasha, she thought, jealously
wondering where her lover was tonight. Julia suspected that she would not be
amused to know he was asleep in another woman’s flat, even if they were not
actually sharing a bed.

  
There was a loud crash from the
living room. The mobile had stopped. Then she heard Marshall moving noisily
about the room, swearing. She huddled into her dressing-gown and opened the
bedroom door, peering out into the darkness.

  
‘What was that noise?’

  
She could see his shadowy figure in
the middle of the room, stooping to pick something up from the floor. He turned
his head towards her, his voice terse.

  
‘My mobile was ringing and I
couldn’t find it in time. I knocked your lamp over, I’m afraid.’ He made an
irritable noise under his breath, standing up. ‘I think it’s broken.’

  
Switching on the main light, Julia
turned to look at him and her mouth went dry. He was not wearing a stitch of
clothing. With one startled glance, she took in the flat angular planes of his
abdomen, the narrow hips and muscular thighs of that lean naked body. Her gaze
shifted abruptly to his face, seeing the irritation change to a hard amusement
as the flush in her cheeks deepened.

  
‘What’s the matter now?’ he mocked
her. ‘Never seen a naked man before?’

  
She drew the dressing-gown more
tightly around her, aware that she too was naked beneath it. ‘I didn’t
realise,’ she began, stammering, then stopped. There was no point embarrassing
herself with fruitless explanations. She averted her gaze instead while he drew
on his jeans and tried to sound unaffected by what she had seen. ‘Did you miss
the call?’

  
‘Yes, but whoever it was left a
message,’ he said, frowning as he listened to the message service on his
mobile. Then he put the phone back down on the coffee table with a distracted
expression. ‘That was Paul’s mother. She says Victoria arrived at her place
about half an hour ago. She’s put her to bed in the spare room.’

  
‘Is she okay?’

  
He ran a hand through his ruffled
hair, his mouth a tight line. ‘She didn’t say. But I’m going to call round
there first thing in the morning and take Victoria home.’

  
‘What if she doesn’t want to go
back with you?’ she asked, trying not to look at his bare chest as he went into
the kitchen area to pour himself a glass of water, her heart still thudding
wildly.

  
‘I’m her father,’ he said briefly.
‘Whatever she’s got going with this boy Paul, it will have to stop. She’s only
a kid, for God’s sake.’

  
Deciding it was wisest not to argue
with him in this mood, Julia shook her head at his offer of a drink and turned
back to her bedroom. ‘Well, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  
‘It barely seems worth going back
to sleep,’ he remarked, following her to the bedroom door. ‘Do you have any
whisky in this place? I could do with something a little stronger than water.’

  
‘How about a nice cup of tea then?’
she said sweetly, then wished she had not said anything, seeing his quick frown
and his arm coming up to block her way.

  
‘Don’t go. What’s your hurry?’

  
The tawny eyes surveyed her in
silence for a moment, dropping in a leisurely fashion over her body, her curves
barely concealed by the light folds of her dressing gown.

  
‘You made me angry earlier,’ he
admitted. ‘But that doesn’t excuse my behaviour. I shouldn’t have spoken to you
like that.’

  
‘Is that an apology?’

  
His jaw tightening, he stared down
at her. ‘I suppose so.’

  
They were standing so close now.
Her heart was going absolutely crazy, beating against her ribs like a bird
trapped in a cage, yet she dared not let him realise how vulnerable she was.
She looked pointedly at his arm, which was still raised, blocking the path into
her bedroom. ‘And if I accept this apology, would you let me go back to bed?’

  
There was a flicker of annoyance in
those tawny eyes but he did not move aside as she had hoped. He came closer
instead, she could feel heat from his body. There was dark stubble on his chin
where he had not shaved since the day before, giving him a lean and hungry
look.

  
‘Were you always this infuriating
or did you have to take lessons?’ Marshall demanded, his eyes narrowed on her
face.

  
‘It comes naturally,’ she muttered.
‘Are you always this persistent with women?’

  
‘Only when they interest me as much
as you do.’

  
‘I’m flattered,’ she snapped in
reply, her skin prickling with sexual tension, the hairs rising on the back of
her neck.

  
Her sharp tone seemed to have got
through to him. He dropped his arm reluctantly from the doorframe, stepping
aside. But as Julia hurried past into the bedroom, she stumbled over the uneven
threshold and he caught her.