Excerpt from The Outback Doctor's Surprise Bride
They sipped at their coffees for a while. James was acutely aware of her thigh
a mere arm’s length from him.
“I get the feeling,” he said after a few minutes, “they’re
all just circling, though. Waiting for you to change your mind.”
Helen nodded. So did she. She gently swirled the contents of her mug. “I
probably will. Sooner or later.”
James almost choked on his mouthful. “What? Why?” he demanded.
Helen was instantly annoyed at his tone. Alright for Mr wind-in-your-face,
Easy-rider. Mr Sex-on-wheels, girl-in-every-town. “It’s just practical,” she
said defensively.
She had to be insane. Right? “Practical? How?”
“I do want to marry, you know. Have children. If the right guy doesn’t
come along then I guess I’ll have to take what I can get.”
James couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Don’t you want
more? A grand love? I thought that’s what every woman wanted.”
Helen snorted. “I’d settle for someone who preferred me over the
highway.”
“What about passion?” he pushed.
“Passion is overrated.” Her parents’ union had apparently
been highly passionate but it hadn’t equipped them to cope with the day-to-day
realities of life. With the sickness part of their wedding vows.
He gaped at her. “Are you kidding? Passion is vital. Only someone who’s
never experienced true passion would say something so naive.”
“Hey,” she said, putting down her mug, “just because I live
in the sticks, it doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced passion. I
did go to university you know.”
James snorted and put down his mug. “If it was anything like my uni years,
it was more clumsy fumblings and sloppy kisses.”
“Yeah, well, don’t judge me by your ineptitude.” Helen could
feel her breath getting shallower, her voice getting huskier. She could see
his chest rising and falling more quickly, hear the rough edge to his breathing.
Suddenly, the small kitchen felt positively claustrophobic.
How dared he imply she didn’t know about passion? She’d had a six-month
relationship with an ancient history student in her second year that had blown
her socks off. They’d been nineteen and insatiable.
“Just because you’re a lousy kisser.” She knew she was goading
him but who the hell died and made him master of all things passionate?
James had been called a lot of things in his life but a lousy kisser wasn’t
one of them. He noted the agitated rise and fall of her chest, the catch in
her breath as she spoke. This conversation was totally ridiculous and he’d
never been more turned on in his life. Lousy kisser indeed. We’ll
just see about that.
He put his hand on her thigh. “Care to put that to the test?”
His touch was burning a hole in her jeans and Helen realised she had moved
them into dangerous territory. His turquoise eyes were blazing with something
she’d never seen before. But on some base level she knew what it was.
Lust. Pure and simple. At nineteen there had been desire. This was more. This
was grown-up. This was virile male animal ready to pounce.
She swallowed. Her heart tripped. “James, I...”
He applied pressure through his hand and slid her petite body across the bench,
easily obliterating the small space separating them. He put his hands on the
bench on either side of her thighs, capturing her in one easy movement.
Their faces were close. He could feel her breath on his cheek, smell the coffee. “You
think I’m a lousy kisser?” he asked softly, staring at her mouth.
Helen swallowed again, her throat suddenly dry as day-old toast. His mouth
was so close, well and truly invading her personal space. She flicked her tongue
out to moisten her lips and saw his pupils flare. “I -”
His mouth descended on hers swiftly, cutting off her words. Her lips were soft
and pliant and he plundered them in a brief, hard kiss.
“You were saying?” he asked, breaking away with the little will
power he had left.
Helen was breathing heavily, dazed and reeling from the onslaught. His lips
were moist and she wanted them back on hers again. She wanted them everywhere.
Amy Andrews
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