Sensual Encounter

Sensual Encounter

Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘… and this new account could be really important to the agency,’ Kate was telling Richard as she came through from the kitchen with the ice for their drinks, her long flaming red hair secured in a classical style at her nape. ‘Whisky?’ she queried in a preoccupied voice.

‘And a little ice only,’ the man seated on the luxurious sofa requested, his fine dinner suit obviously from Savile Row, the cufflinks at his wrist gold, his shoes handmade. Richard James was a rich man, and he looked it, from his styled dark hair to his Italian shoes.

And Kate liked rich men, rich and powerful men. She more than liked Richard, she intended marrying him. Fortunately, it looked as if he felt the same way.

‘Thank you, darling.’ He looked up at her with dark eyes, admiring everything about the beautiful woman who was to be his wife, preferring the elegance of her severe hairstyle to a softer styling, the bright red hair dulled to copper, her eyes a wide almond shape, golden in colour, slightly tilted at the corners, her cheekbones high, emphasised by a light blusher, her nose short and straight, the wide bow of her mouth outlined in a deep plum lip-gloss, the black dress she wore as sophisticated as the other clothes she bought from one of his exclusive shops in town. He must remember to open an account for her as soon as possible—beside the fact that he intended marrying her, no one who could do such justice to the dresses deserved to pay for them! Kate was everything he could possibly want in a wife. ‘I have a table booked for eight—Are you expecting anyone?’ he frowned as the doorbell pealed in Kate’s apartment.

‘No.’ She put her glass down, her hand long and elegant, the nails painted the same plum colour as her lipgloss. ‘Perhaps it’s Gill from downstairs, she’s always running out of things for some reason,’ the last was added with irritation, her own methodical way of life not allowing for such occurrences. Head of an advertising agency, she had to live her life that way, both privately and professionally, clients and employees depending on her.

‘Don’t let her keep you long,’ Richard’s hand trailed intimately down her arm. ‘We have to leave for the restaurant in a few minutes.’

Kate’s expression was thoughtful as she went to the door. If it were Gill she hoped she was returning the set of vegetable dishes she had borrowed for a special dinner last month; she could be needing them herself soon!

She had no premonition as she opened the door, no warning of the shock she was to receive when she saw the identity of her visitor. Her mouth fell open in surprise, her face paling, the golden eyes suddenly huge in her drawn face.

At that moment she wished she could deny all knowledge of the man standing outside the door, but the lean body in the casual denims and short leather jacket, the ruggedly attractive face dominated by laughing blue eyes, the overlong dark hair with its auburn highlights were all too familiar. Jared Rourke!

‘Hello, Kate,’ he greeted softly, in a well-educated voice, although it did not indicate public school like Richard’s did.

She wished she could have answered him, but for the moment she seemed to have lost her voice—something that had never happened to her before. What was he doing here? More to the point, what was she going to do with him when Richard was waiting for her in the lounge?

Jared felt no such inhibitions about his own actions, and stepped forward, taller than her by at least six inches at six foot two, his arms like steel vices as he took her in his arms, his mouth claiming hers with arrogant possession.

Kate felt herself respond to him as she had from their first meeting, having no strength to fight him as his mouth moved over hers with drugging insistence, laying intimate claim to her lips, while his hands moved over her body with sure deliberation.

‘Mm,’ he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead on hers as he looked down at her, a growth of copper-coloured beard on his chin evidence of his need of a shave. ‘I needed that,’ he spoke softly, his voice husky. ‘I was sure I must have imagined how good it was with you, but now I know I didn’t!’

‘Jared—–’

‘Mmm,’ he kissed her again, ‘you’re beautiful, Kate. I’d forgotten how beautiful.’ Large hands touched the smoothness of her hair. ‘Or I just thought I’d imagined that too. What did we have, Kate? Two days, two long glorious days when we—–’

‘Please, Jared,’ she pushed firmly against the hard wall of his chest, looking up at him with steady gold eyes. ‘What we had really isn’t important.’

The blue eyes narrowed. ‘Not important? How can you say that? We—–’

‘Darling, what is it?’ Richard appeared behind her, looking pointedly at his gold wrist-watch. ‘We have to leave soon,’ he reminded her.

Kate swallowed hard, looking anxiously at the two men. Richard was obviously unaware of the tension between them, his brows raised at Jared in polite query. But Jared was the one causing most of the tension—all of it!—and his flinty blue eyes were narrowed back at Richard.

‘This gentleman was looking for Gill,’ Kate hurried into speech, hearing the words in some disbelief, sure she couldn’t really have spoken them. But what was she supposed to say, what could she say? This is a perfect stranger I spent two days with three months ago? No, she couldn’t say that, and she hoped Jared would have enough decency not to say it either.

He remained silent, although his mocking blue eyes passed from her to Richard, and then back again.

‘Well, don’t be long, darling.’ Richard spoke impatiently. ‘It shouldn’t take all night to explain that Gill lives in the flat below.’ He turned and returned to the lounge to finish his drink, obviously considering the matter settled.

But it was far from being that! Jared crossed his arms across his chest, leaning casually against the door-frame. ‘Who was that?’ he drawled.

Kate flushed at his derisive tone. ‘Richard is a friend—–’

‘I gathered that—darling!’

Her eyes flashed like molten gold. ‘Then you must also have gathered that your presence here is a complete surprise to me.’ She gripped her hands tightly together in front of her, the rigidity of her shoulders thrusting her breasts forward beneath the black dress, the nipples hardened in her emotional tension.

‘It is?’ He raised dark brows, the dark lashes about deep blue eyes ridiculously long for a man. ‘You surely didn’t think I was going to disappear out of your life?’

‘Why not?’ she snapped tautly. ‘You have for the last three months.’

‘I told you I was going to North America; it was something I couldn’t get out of. But I asked you to come with me,’ he reminded her.

‘Yes, well—–’ she avoided his searching gaze, ‘I had no intention of hitch-hiking around Canada for three months with a man I’d only just met!’

‘Hitch-hiking?’ he repeated with a frown. ‘Who said anything about hitch-hiking?’

Her gaze moved scathingly over his casual attire, the faded denims even patched in a couple of places. He was decidedly out of place in the tasteful elegance of her home, the exact opposite of Richard’s sophistication, despite the fact that the two men were of a similar age, both in their mid-thirties.

‘Oh, I see,’ Jared derided tauntingly as he correctly read her scorn. ‘You don’t think I’m capable of affording any other form of transport. Are you a snob, Katharine Mary Collier?’ His eyes were narrowed again.

‘No, of course not!’ She flushed in spite of herself. ‘You told me yourself that you live on your wits, and I just—–’

‘Don’t believe in roughing it with someone like me when you can ride around with friend Richard in the Porsche. That is his car outside, isn’t it?’ he mocked.

‘Yes. But—–’

‘Nice car.’

‘He thinks so,’ she said stiffly.

‘And you, do you think so too?’ His voice was taut.

‘Of course,’ she bit out. ‘Look, Mr Rourke—–’

‘Mr?’ he derided mockingly. ‘Really, Kate, you’re being ridiculous now. I doubt your friend can hear us out here, it’s quite safe to call me Jared when we’re alone.’

‘All right, Jared,’ bright spots of angry colour darkened her cheeks, her eyes gleaming, ‘Richard is my friend, and why you’ve had to come here and try and cause trouble I have no idea.’

His eyes widened. ‘What trouble have I tried to cause? I wasn’t to know you would have your boyfriend here.’

‘You could have called first!’

‘It took me long enough to find out your real name and address, let alone your telephone number!’

‘How did you find out my name and address?’ she frowned.

‘It wasn’t easy,’ he shrugged. ‘But I remembered you said you were in advertising. I have a few connections in the business world,’ he ignored her scathing snort, ‘people who owe me a few favours. Luckily there aren’t too many redhaired beauties like you in advertising. It was a simple matter to visit all the ones who fitted the description. You were third on the list.’

‘The fact that I did give you a false name should have told you something,’ she snapped.

‘Oh, it did,’ he nodded unconcernedly. ‘It told me you didn’t mind spending a couple of days with me, but you didn’t want any of your high-class friends to find out about it.’

Kate glanced towards the lounge with a hunted look in her eyes. ‘Will you please keep your voice down?’ she hissed vehemently. ‘I don’t want Richard to hear.’

‘No, we mustn’t have that, must we?’ he taunted. ‘Tell me, Kate—–’

‘Darling, are we—Are you still here?’ Richard frowned his irritation as he saw the other man at the door. ‘Hasn’t Kate explained to you that Gill lives downstairs?’ His arm went possessively about her slender waist.

‘Kate’s explanation was very exact,’ Jared told the other man tautly.

‘Then if you’ll excuse us,’ Richard said haughtily, ‘we happen to be going out.’

Kate bit her lip anxiously at the derogatory tone of Richard’s voice. One thing she had learnt about Jared Rourke, if he had something to say then he said it. Richard’s disdainful attitude was guaranteed to spark the Irish temper lurking in the icy blue eyes. She waited for the explosion that would ruin all her carefully laid plans, plans that would make her Richard’s wife. But not if Jared told him about their meeting three months ago, not if he told him about the two days—and nights—they had spent together.

‘Then I won’t keep you any longer.’ Jared pushed away from the doorframe in one lithe movement. I mustn’t keep Gill waiting,’ he added wickedly.

Richard looked uncomfortable at the suggestive tone in the other man’s voice. ‘Er—no. Well, glad to have been able to help you, Mr—–?’

‘Rourke,’ Jared supplied, his expression mocking as he looked at Kate. ‘Thank you, Miss Collier. I’ll tell Gill how helpful you’ve been.’

Kate was left with the impression that it was a possibility that Jared would tell Gill exactly that—and he didn’t even know Gill! Not yet, anyway. She knew from experience that that wasn’t necessarily a drawback as far as Jared was concerned; once he made his mind up to do something he did it, regardless. It could be Gill’s lucky night—if she liked attractive Irishmen, that is. Strangely that thought didn’t please Kate at all.

He gave a brief wave of his hand as he stepped into the lift, his blue eyes burning with mocking mischief as he pressed the button to close the doors. Kate watched the lift floor numbers above the doors, her mouth tightening as it stopped on the floor below. Damn him, he was going to see Gill! He had gone to all the trouble of seeking her out, and now he had gone to the flat of a woman he didn’t even know.

She closed the door with forceful anger, wondering why Jared should go through the lengthy process of finding her only to meekly leave again. It didn’t seem like the man she knew. But going to see Gill he was! She knew better than most what a sensual man Jared Rourke was, how much he enjoyed women.

‘Odd-looking man,’ Richard said thoughtfully.

Kate gave him a sharp look. ‘Odd?’ she questioned his choice of word.

‘Well, he must be my age,’ Richard derided with a twist of his lips, ‘and yet he looked like some damned hippie.’

Jared’s casual clothing hardly made him a hippie, in fact the tight denims suited him, as did the rakish hairstyle, the leather jacket emphasising the width of his shoulders. She had forgotten his shoulders were that broad, his waist that narrow, his hips so powerful, his legs long and lean. Damn him, why did he have to be so attractive!

‘Hippies went out years ago,’ she snapped her agitation.

‘Exactly,’ Richard drawled derisively.

For the first time in weeks Kate felt irritation with him. ‘Nothing about Mr Rourke looked outdated to me,’ she said tautly.

He seemed not to notice her lack of good humour, glancing at his wrist-watch once again. ‘We really will have to go now, Kate.’ He held out the silver jacket that complemented the simplicity of style of her black dress and matched the colour of her sandals and evening bag. Richard knew he could never fault Kate’s way of dressing, everything she wore was stylish and complimentary to her slender beauty—even creations that didn’t belong to his stores!

If Richard could have read her thoughts at that moment he would have been a little shocked by her thoughts. She was remembering a time not so long ago when her clothes had been as casual as Jared Rourke’s, of walking on a golden beach in her tight denims, her anorak stained with sea-spray. It was a memory she had tried to put out of her mind; seeing Jared again had reminded her of a lot of things she would rather forget.

‘Yes, let’s go.’ She put her arm through the crook of his. ‘I’ve been looking forward to our evening together.’

Richard looked pleased by her eagerness, and he visibly preened as they went down in the lift, liking the way she clung to his arm. Although he didn’t look quite so happy when he saw the way a red Lamborghini had trapped him into his parking space. ‘Damn,’ he frowned at the rakish angle of the red car, before getting in behind the wheel of the Porsche to manoeuvre it slowly out on to the road with Kate’s guidance from outside.

Kate glanced up to Gill’s flat, wondering if Jared was going to be out of luck a second time tonight; the Lamborghini probably belonged to Gill’s new boyfriend, the one she was trying so hard to impress.

They weren’t having a very good start to what was supposed to be a special evening, Kate thought ruefully as they finally got started on the drive to the restaurant. Tonight she and Richard were having a celebration dinner; it was just like Jared Rourke to turn up and disturb her. Three months he had had to put in an appearance, and he had to turn up tonight of all nights!

But he had a way of doing that—hadn’t his unexpected appearance been the reason she had met him in the first place?

The south-western coast of England in mid-March was not where she had intended to be three months ago, in fact she had intended being somewhere else completely at the time. But circumstances had dictated that she had to get away, and the hotel where she had spent many holidays with her parents as a child had appeared like a refuge when the yearly brochure had arrived in the post, a ritual that had continued despite the fact that she hadn’t been there in five years.

It was a large impersonal hotel in one of the large coastal towns of Devon, providing many sporting or intellectual entertainments if you wanted them, but leaving you free to just be on your own if you preferred that. Kate did. She wanted to be alone. But on her first evening there she had met Jared Rourke, had met him at a time when all her defences were down. That was the excuse she had given herself over the months to explain her behaviour with him.

She had walked down to the secluded cove a short distance from the hotel, the sand silver-gold in the moonlight, the sea battling with the cliffs that prevented it sweeping overland to cause destruction in its wake. The chilling water had been cold about her ankles, the rest of her huddled down in warm clothing as the elements echoed her mood, stormy. When she walked into the solid object blocking her pathway she couldn’t hold back her gasp of surprise.

‘Did I hurt you?’ queried a concerned voice from the darkness.

‘You startled me!’ She moved away from the bulky figure of the man, stepping back in the dry sand. She had thought herself alone.

‘I didn’t think you could startle pixies,’ the man mused in that slightly lilting voice.

Kate gave an impatient sigh; she was not in the mood for a flirtation. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she turned away, ‘I have to get back to the hotel.’

‘Why?’

She turned back to find him standing very close to her, the wind whipping her long red hair about her face as she tried to distinguish his features in the darkness. It was an impossible task. ‘I just do,’ she said irritably, and began to walk across the sand to the narrow pathway that led up to the hotel grounds.

A hand came out to grasp her arm, the man was still at her side. ‘I’ll walk with you.’

The voice sounded young, interested, and for the first time she realised the inadvisability of coming down here alone in the dark. ‘Would you please leave me alone?’ She pulled away from him.

‘No.’

Kate swallowed hard at that single-worded answer. He spoke so firmly, so inevitably, that she felt her tension rising. ‘I shall scream—–’

‘Who would hear you?’ There was laughter in his voice now.

She moistened her lips, tasting the salt there, the sea-water being whipped up into the air by the fierce wind causing the whitecaps far out to sea being illuminated by the moon. If only she could see her accoster—all she knew was that he looked big and sounded young, his hair obviously long and dark as it was blown about. ‘I didn’t come alone,’ she told him with confidence. ‘I have a friend—–’

‘I know—me.’ Once again he clasped her arm. ‘I know you’re down here alone, at the hotel alone too. Don’t you realise how dangerous it could be out here?’

‘I’m beginning to!’

‘You’re in no danger from me, I can assure you,’ he mused.

‘I’m not?’ She unwittingly showed her uncertainty.

‘Not at this precise moment, no,’ he mocked. ‘Later I can’t answer for,’ he added softly. ‘I’m staying at the hotel too,’ he spoke briskly. ‘I saw you leave over an hour ago, when you didn’t come back I thought I ought to come and check that you were okay.’

‘Who asked you to be my watchdog?’ Kate snapped.

‘No one,’ he replied without rancour. ‘I just didn’t like the picture I’d conjured up of you a helpless crumpled heap at the bottom of the cliff.’

‘Well, you can see I’m fine, so I—–’

‘I’ll just see you back to the hotel, if you don’t mind.’

‘I do!’

‘Well, I’m going back myself anyway, so I might as well walk with you.’

‘I—–’ Kate began.

‘Are you here on holiday?’ he asked conversationally. ‘Only you don’t seem to be with anyone and—–’

‘Are you spying on me?’ she demanded furiously, turning to glare at him in the darkness, her eyes almost luminous, deep gold in her anger.

‘Yes.’

‘I—You—–’ She was speechless at his candidness.

‘I saw you arrive this morning and I’ve been watching you ever since. I can’t seem to do anything else,’ he added derisively.

Now she knew who he was, knew the face and body behind the voice. She had been aware of a man with laughing blue eyes watching her as she brought in her cases this morning, and again as she ate dinner this evening. The man had been seated across the room from her, also alone. He was good-looking if you liked rakish charm and a complete disregard for fashion and elegance. He was also the last person she wanted to talk to, his interest in her being obvious as his gaze never left her during dinner. In fact, it had been this that had hastened her departure from the dining-room this evening, her meal only half over.

‘How interesting,’ she said in a bored voice, relieved as she saw the lights of the hotel.

‘You don’t think so?’ he mocked.

‘No.’ She spoke with the same bluntness he did.

‘It was a man,’ he said with a sigh.

Kate came to a halt, looking up at him in the darkness. ‘What was?’ she queried warily.

‘The reason you’re spending time in a half empty hotel in mid-March.’

‘Oh, but it isn’t going to be half empty for long,’ she derided. ‘Apparently there’s some sort of conference starting at the end of the week; I have to vacate my room then.’

‘Good business management,’ he murmured appreciately. ‘I often wondered how these big hotels at seaside resorts survived through the winter.’

‘Well, now you know,’ she taunted as he held the door open for her, the lighted reception area showing she had been right about his identity; he was the man with the laughing blue eyes and the teasing smile that made the waitress blush as she served him his meal.

‘I certainly do.’ Again he seemed unaffected by her rudeness. ‘Would you like to join me in the bar for a drink?’

‘No, thank you.’ She pushed her long red hair away from her face, slightly wet from the damp air outside.

His mouth twisted. ‘It was a man, wasn’t it, the reason you’re hiding yourself here?’

‘I’m not hiding anywhere!’ she snapped.

‘No?’ he taunted.

‘No!’ Her eyes glowed her anger, there was a healthy colour to her cheeks from her walk on the beach.

‘Then have a drink with me.’ He thrust his hands into the back pockets of his denims, looking at her challengingly.

She was being goaded into accepting, she knew that, and yet something made her want to accept that challange, to show herself that she might have been hurt by one man but she was still capable of attracting another one. ‘I’ll have a glass of brandy, thank you,’ she accepted haughtily.

If he was surprised by her change of mind then he didn’t show it, seeing her seated at one of the plush booths before going up to the bar to get their drinks. Kate compared his attire to the formality of some of the other men in the room, and found him wanting, although he seemed unconcerned, carrying himself with a confidence that said to hell with convention.

‘Here we go.’ He put their two brandy glasses down on the table, sitting close to her in the booth. ‘Now tell me about yourself.’ He sat forward, his elbow on the table bringing him very close to her.

She avoided his gaze. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’

‘You come from London.’

‘So do you,’ she guessed in return. ‘So what are you doing here?’

‘It’s off-season—–’

‘And the rates are lower,’ she finished derisively.

‘There is that,’ he grinned. ‘Although I was going to say there were fewer people.’

‘Of course you were,’ she mocked.

‘Don’t you get tired carrying that around with you?’ He looked at her consideringly.

This time she was ready for him. ‘The scowl or the chip on my shoulder?’ she asked with sarcasm.