Secretary on Demand (15 page)

And it was oddly gratifying to dress for a school event. She had been to her brothers' and sisters' various school plays and awards evenings and sports days but she had never attended a school event in the capacity of adult spectator. She wore a green and black checked skirt and a bottle green jumper and her high boots, all fairly new acquisitions since she'd started working for Kane and seen her pay packet considerably increased. She brushed her hair until it shone and then swept it away from her face, pinning it back on either side with two tortoiseshell clips, and was inordinately pleased when Kane told her that she looked absolutely perfect.

And the play was perfect as well. Eleanor remembered all her lines, not that there were that many to remember, and the animals and trees all behaved themselves.

Afterwards, over a fast-food dinner, Shannon recounted her various experiences of school plays and all the disasters that had befallen the various members of her family. When she talked about her past, she could feel it come alive, could feel her excitement as a child as she'd dressed in Nativity costume for a ten-second starring role in the class play. Her eyes sparkled and once or twice, when she looked at Kane, it was to find him staring at her, seemingly enthralled at her recounting of old times. He even joined in with the reminiscences and gave amusing thumbnail sketches of things that had happened to him as a boy.

Eleanor looked gratified but astounded to hear that he'd had a boyhood. Like all children, she probably assumed that her father had mysteriously emerged, fully grown and mature, from his mother's womb.

So it seemed natural, when they had got back to the
house and Eleanor was settled and asleep, to continue the trip down memory lane. And it seemed natural to mention Kane's wife over a cup of frothy coffee. Shannon almost expected him to refuse to answer, but he did, startling her with the length and breadth of his explanation. They met and it had been, he told Shannon, an instant attraction.

‘But really,' he said, caressing his coffee-cup thoughtfully, ‘when I look back, I wonder whether our mutual infatuation would have matured into something stronger. I don't normally, I assure you, bore people with details of my private life but…' their eyes met and tangled and Shannon's pulse accelerated ‘…what can I say? We rushed headlong into a relationship and within a year Annette was pregnant. In retrospect, I wonder whether we really ever knew one another that well.'

‘What makes you say that?' Shannon asked.

Kane looked at her broodingly. In the muted light, his face was all angles. The shadows lent him a remoteness that was at odds with his frank discussion of his dead wife. ‘She was distraught at being pregnant. It wasn't planned and towards the end I could tell that she was terrified that her party days might be over. She was also upset at how her body changed. I always assumed that women found pregnancy enjoyable.' He focused his attention on her, as though indicating that she might be able to provide an answer to this, and Shannon shrugged.

‘Not all do. I would, though.' She smiled mistily. ‘I can't imagine how wonderful it must be to have a baby growing inside you, feeling it, waiting for it to make its appearance…'

‘I thought that might have been your way of looking at things.' There was a lingering silence during which
she became aware of the breeze rustling against the window-panes, blowing through the leaves on the trees.

‘There's something girlish yet womanly about you.'

‘Girlish yet womanly…? What does that mean?' She laughed to dismiss the thick atmosphere between them but found that she couldn't tear her eyes away from his and the laughter died in her throat.

‘I guess another way of putting it is…sexy.'

Sexy, sexy.

Sex.

With the man sitting just next to her at the kitchen table.

Shannon licked her lips and Kane watched the unconscious gesture of nervousness, which made her even more nervous. Nervous but excited. Unspeakably excited, in fact.

Then he leant across the few inches separating them and she closed her eyes as his cool lips touched hers.

T
HIS
was what Shannon had been waiting for. The realisation hit her like a bombshell the minute Kane kissed her. It was a slow, lingering kiss. He was tasting her, exploring her mouth with his tongue as his hand reached behind her head, pulling her to him, and Shannon allowed herself to be directed. She was barely aware of the smooth wooden table between them as she leant towards him and into him, drowning in the depths of his mouth. When he finally drew back, she found that she was trembling.

How could he stop? She opened her eyes and saw that he was looking at her.

‘What?
What?
What's the matter?' She leaned across and closed her eyes, but he placed one finger very gently on her mouth and her eyes flicked open again.

‘We need to talk about this.'

Talk?
How could he be contemplating discussion at a time like this?

‘Why?' she cried. ‘Why do we have to talk about it?'

He sat back in the chair and folded his hands behind his head.

‘Look, if you don't want to…if you… I don't turn you on, so what's the point…?' Shannon could feel herself on the brink of tears, but she wouldn't give in. It was obvious. One moment of impulse was now being considered in the harsh glare of reality and found wanting. If he really wanted her, like she really wanted him, he wouldn't have been able to pull back, never mind sit
there looking at her through shuttered eyes and telling her that they needed to talk.

She stood up and he said quietly, ‘Sit back down, Shannon.'

‘And what if I don't?' she flung at him, gripping the edges of the table so fiercely that her knuckles were white. ‘What are you going to do? Stop me? So that you can tell me that we need to talk? Drag me back to the kitchen table, kicking and screaming?'

‘That,' he said, ‘is precisely what I would do.'

By way of reply, she pushed herself back from the table and stalked across the kitchen, her eyes glazed and aching from the effort of not bursting into tears from sheer humiliation. How ironic to think that Eric Gallway, the man she had once idiotically considered the love of her life, had never been able to stir a response like this in her. His seduction had been intense, brief and polished, and his techniques for trying to get her into bed had been much on the same level.

But the stronger he'd tried to fan her flames, the more she'd pulled back, believing that years of indoctrination had given her principles which she couldn't overcome. She had really believed that she couldn't commit to sex before marriage.

If he could see her now! Not a principle in sight. All her principles had vanished over the face of the horizon and she knew, with mounting dismay, that they had vanished because what she felt for Kane Lindley was nothing like what she had felt for Eric Gallway. What she felt was true and strong and right because she was in love with Kane.

The realisation brought a choked lump to her throat. Her eyes were stinging.

She felt his steel-like grip on her wrist before she even realised that he had covered the distance between them.

Shannon stood frozen to the spot, aware of the futility of any physical battle between them. ‘Go on, then! Talk! If you want to talk, talk! Get it off your chest.'

‘Not here.'

‘Why? What difference does it make?'

‘In the sitting room.' He didn't give her time to answer. Instead, he pulled her along while she ineffectively tried to wriggle out of his vice-like grip.

The sitting room was in darkness but instead of switching on the overhead lights he flicked on a lamp with one hand while the other remained firmly super-glued to her wrist. Then he pulled her along to the sofa and only released her when he was sitting right next to her, close enough for any idea of a quick sprint to the door to be out of the question. Not, she thought, that it mattered. The short distance between the kitchen and the sitting room had been enough for her to consider her options. They were basically limited to two. Attempt a pointless flight from the situation from which she would emerge with her dignity even less intact than it was now, if that was possible, or brazen out her mortifying rejection with as much cold self-possession as she could muster.

‘Why don't we just forget what's just happened?' Shannon suggested, staring at the fireplace. She could feel the pulse in her neck beating and she drew in a long, steadying breath. Rallying her defences would be so much easier if she could just ignore the man sitting next to her. He wasn't in her line of vision, but unfortunately she was still intensely aware of his eyes on her. She was also, unfortunately, all too aware of what he was seeing. A woman with heightened colour, her breathing shallow
and gasping, hands clammy and shaking. Hardly a vision of cold self-possession, she thought bitterly. More like a vision of total collapse.

‘Why would I want to do that?'

‘Because we're both adults and adults should be able to deal with mistakes.'

‘You're presuming,' Kane said drily, ‘that I consider it a mistake.'

‘And don't you?' Shannon swung to look at him. Having initially breathed a sigh of relief that the room was in semi-darkness, she now wished that it was bathed in fluorescent light which might have enabled her to read his expression. As it was, his face gave her no clue to his thoughts and she felt like a swimmer, thrashing around in the dark in pursuit of the nearest piece of land. ‘Why did you stop, then?'

‘Because I need to know that this isn't going to end up being a mistake for you.'

‘Very magnanimous of you, Mr Lindley,' Shannon said cuttingly. ‘And what about you? What if it turns out to be a mistake for you?'

‘I can handle myself.'

‘And I can't?'

‘Not if your experience with Eric Gallway was anything to go by.'

There he goes again, Shannon thought despairingly. Even on the brink of passion, his wretched sense of consideration took over. Was he like this with all the women he hopped into bed with? Or had he just singled her out as incompetent when it came to taking care of herself? Maybe he was trying to warn her off him. Was that it? Her madly whirring brain tried to deal with every possible hidden meaning behind his attitude and eventually appeared to short circuit.

She gave a short laugh and said sarcastically, ‘You certainly know how to kill passion.'

‘Oh, is that what I've done?' His dark eyebrows rose beguilingly. ‘My passion still seems to be very much alive.'

‘Oh, it does, does it?'

‘Why don't you find out for yourself if you don't believe me?'

The full extent of her inexperience hit her like a blow and she let out a strangled squeak.

‘Sorry, what was that?'

Shannon cleared her throat while her body resisted all attempts at sophistication and went up in flames at the thought of touching him. He was less alarmed at the prospect and he gently took her hand in his and placed it on his lap so that there was now no mistaking the throbbing arousal that told its own story.

‘Do I prove my point now?' he asked huskily, and she nodded.

‘P-perhaps we should t-talk,' she stuttered, which was rich considering, she thought, that she could barely make her vocal cords get it together to form a sentence, never mind string sentences together to form anything halfway coherent. Every part of her body was actually vibrating, like an engine waiting to race away from the starting post.

‘You want to make love with me, don't you, my little flame-haired beauty? I know. I can feel it. I can
smell
it. And I want to make love with you, but if we do, once isn't going to be enough. Not nearly enough.'

His words swam in her head, muffling her thoughts, and she had to fight to concentrate on what he was saying.

‘You mean you want to have an affair with me?' she whispered.

‘More than that.'

For the merest of split seconds, she was overcome by a swooping sensation of elation as the prospect of marriage flashed on the horizon. Marriage to Kane Lindley, weeks and months and endless years of sharing her love, having his children, basking in the blissful knowledge that they would grow old together, two trees forever entwined.

‘I want you to enter into this knowing that we'll be lovers.'

‘Lovers? For how long?'

‘That's a question without an answer, Shannon.' His voice was gentle. ‘I can't and won't make you rash promises of wedding bells and happy-ever-afters and I know you might find that impossible to accept.'

Disappointment was like a wave crashing over her, and it took her less than a second to make her mind up. ‘Yes,' she said, closing her eyes. ‘Yes, yes, yes.'

‘Yes, yes, yes…what? Yes, you find it impossible to accept?'

Shannon opened her eyes to look at him and felt the breath catch in her throat at the thought of all the things they would never share, but they would share enough. He was right, life was hard and there were no happy-ever-afters. All she could hope to do was snatch her piece of happiness while she could and let her dreams take care of themselves.

‘Yes. I'll be your lover.' Because I love you, she added silently to herself. Those were dangerous words that would have to be contained, but she could do that because the alternative was turning her back on what her heart needed and yearned for.

Kane smiled and brushed the hair away from her temple. Shannon held his hand, leaning into his palm with her cheek.

‘Are you quite sure, my darling?'

‘Quite sure.' She leant towards him and opened her mouth against his, taking the initiative to still any further questioning on the subject. This was enough because it would have to be enough, and she could deal with the consequences.

This time there was sweet savagery as his tongue clashed with hers, and when she pressed her hand against him, she could feel him stirring against her, his urgency matching her own. As his mouth left hers, she arched back, groaning as he trailed a path wetly along her neck with his tongue, pausing to tease the tender flesh behind her ears and to tickle her ear with the tip of his tongue.

‘What do you like, Shannon?' he asked in a deep, uneven voice. ‘What feels good for you?'

‘I don't know,' she whispered back. ‘But this feels…nice.'

‘Just
nice
?' He laughed softly into her ear and his breath sent a shiver through her.

‘Well, maybe…wonderful… Would that do?'

‘For the moment.' Kane slipped his hand underneath her jumper and delicately traced the outline of her bra, running his fingers along her rib cage, then down to her flat stomach, stopping at the waistband of her skirt. Then he resumed his explorations, down to where her skirt was rucked up against her thigh and then underneath so that the barrier of her flimsy tights felt like iron cladding separating his fingers from her bare flesh.

‘But right now,' he murmured, ‘I want you to get undressed for me. Very slowly. I want to feast my eyes on every inch of you.'

Shannon stood up and watched him as he watched her. Did he want her to perform a striptease? Instead of feeling nervous at the prospect of that, she felt wantonly erotic. She slowly tugged the jumper over her head and then dropped it to the ground, then undid the zipper of her skirt and stepped out of it, kicking it aside. Then her boots, bending over to release the laces until she could ease them off. No one had ever seen her naked before, not like this.

The excitement was pulsing inside her like waves of hot lava and as she removed her tights she looked up at him and their eyes clashed. Now she was bare other than the lacy flesh-coloured bra and her underwear. She reached behind her, unclasping the bra and letting it fall to join the rest of her clothes. Her instinct was to cover her exposed breasts with her hands, a gesture of modesty, but the naked hunger on his face was an immense turn-on. Instead, she walked towards him and he pulled her to sit on his lap, so that the pointed tips of her nipples were on a level with his mouth.

With a soft sigh, Shannon curled her fingers into his hair and looked down to watch as he suckled at her nipples, drawing first one then the other into his mouth, rubbing his tongue over the sensitive tips until she could barely stand the explosion building up inside her.

‘Don't worry, I'm going to take things nice and easy with you…'

As he continued to suck her ripe nipples, hard and engorged now and slick with the wetness of his mouth, his hand moved along her rib cage and he stroked the flat planes of her stomach. Then he slid his hand down beneath the silky elasticised waistband of her underwear, cupping her, and with gentle pressure he rubbed the sensitive mound between her thighs with his palm. Shannon
gasped and began to move against his hand, throwing her head back, her mouth half-open as she moaned her pleasure.

‘Do you like me touching you there?' he groaned unsteadily into her ear. ‘I know you do. You're wet for me.' He eased her off him, laying her flat on the sofa, and she watched as he stood up and began to remove his clothes.

He was as beautiful as she'd imagined he would be. As he stripped off his shirt, she noticed, with feverish excitement, how defined his muscles were. The breadth of his shoulders emphasised the narrowing of his waist and hips and as he stood, finally, in proud nudity for her to absorb, her eyes were drawn to the dark hair curling tenderly at his groin, framing his thrusting erection. She wanted to touch it so badly that she reached out and felt a shudder of heady power as it moved beneath her hand, responding to the lightness of her stroking.

He curled his fingers into her hair and she sat forward to obey his silent command, taking his hardness into her mouth.

‘Yes, my darling, just like that.' He controlled the rhythm with his hand on her head. He gave a shudder and tilted her face upwards so that he could look down at her.

‘Now, where did you learn to do that?' he asked with a soft, shaky laugh, and Shannon stretched back along the sofa, her arms provocatively raised above her head to hang limply over the edge of the soft cushions.