Drawing a deep breath, she battled against her wayward senses, and, schooling her features into what she hoped was a polite smile she responded, ‘Happy Christmas, Conan.’ Pushing her hands against his broad chest, she added, ‘But you’re a bit late. It was two weeks ago.’ Her legs were like jelly, his kiss had shaken her to her bones, but she did not want him to see it, and, brushing past him, she made straight for the sitting room, disturbingly aware of him following her only a step behind.
Sinking on to the nearest sofa, Josie glanced up at him towering over her. He looked rakishly handsome, his tie loose and his shirt unfastened at the neck, but the gold glint in the dark
eyes that captured hers hinted at danger.
‘Not quite the eager response I was hoping for,’ he drawled sardonically.
‘Sorry... But in my experience one rarely gets what one hopes for.’ Josie’s voice was tight. Ten days ago she had thought their marriage might have a chance, but no more... Deliberately she fixed her gaze on his chest, and asked the question that had been burning in her brain for a week.
‘When did you get back from America?’ Would he admit that he had been back in England since last week? she wondered. But not by a blink of an eye did she betray her thoughts. Instead she tagged on, ‘Did you solve the problem? ’
‘I flew in this morning and, yes, I managed to sort everything out successfully.’ She could feel the intensity of his gaze on the top of her head, and she knew he was puzzled by her less than enthusiastic welcome ‘You’re angry because I didn’t get back for the holiday, but I did ring.’
‘Yes, Angela gave me your message,’ she said coolly. He had some nerve reminding her...
‘I didn’t mean just Angela. I rang and spoke to the Major because you were out. He did tell you?’
‘No, he must have forgotten.’ What a liar he was. Somehow Josie had always considered Conan to be strictly honest, but now she realised the opposite was true. She lifted her head, her stormy eyes clashing with his. It was amazing how he managed to look sincere. Yet she knew he had spent the last week in London with Angela. Obviously he took her for a complete fool.
‘Much the same as you conveniently forgot to inform me you had gone back to work, I suppose,’ he prompted with silken softness, his eyes narrowing to slits on her upturned face. It was only then she realised he was savagely furious.
‘Yes, well, you weren’t here to tell, and Mr Brownlow needed a temporary secretary,’ she flung back, refusing to be intimidated by his sarcasm.
‘Yes, nothing! What the hell do you think you are playing at?’ Not waiting for an answer he ploughed on ruthlessly. ‘You’re a pregnant woman, for heaven’s sake, and my wife. Yet I can’t trust you for a moment to look after yourself.’
Josie did not trust Conan full stop! And his listing her as pregnant first and his wife second only served to stiffen her resolve and gave her the strength to put the plan she had been forming in her head into action.
‘Ours is a marriage of convenience, as you well know. And it’s as convenient for me to work as it is for you,’ she said facetiously, and, leaping to her feet, she tried to slip past him.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! It’s not the same at all.’ He caught her arm and spun her around to face him. ‘Have you no sense—driving around country roads in the middle of winter in your condition? As of now you are going to do as you are told. You will call Mr Brownlow in the morning and tell him you’re no longer available, and tomorrow you’re returning to London with me.’
Jerking her arm free, she headed for the door, too incensed to speak. So she was ridiculous! Incapable! Now she knew what he really thought of her.
A long arm snaked around her waist and hauled her back against his body. ‘Don’t you dare walk away from me, Josie. I haven’t finished with you yet,’ Conan snarled. His hand dug into her side as he swung her around in his arms yet again. Josie felt the frisson of excitement that his touch never failed to arouse and bitterly resented it.
‘Well, I’ve finished with you!’ she cried, grasping his arm and trying to wriggle free from his hold. Flinging back her head, she defied him. ‘And I am not giving up my job, or going to London with you, or anywhere else.’ She was furious. How dared he tell her what to do? She was her own woman, even if she hadn’t been behaving as such for a while.
Stark fury flashed in his dark eyes, and the realisation that he was going to kiss her again came too late for Josie to take evasive action. She felt the hard, demanding pressure of his mouth against her own, and tried to keep her lips closed. But the intense passion, the desire in the savagely hungry kiss, made her mouth open to welcome his thrusting invasion. She knew the danger but was helpless to resist, softening against him as he drew all her strength from her with the power of his sexuality. Shame burned through her, but with it a fierce longing she was helpless to control. And when Conan finally raised his head, his breathing ragged, and they stared at each other, it was Conan who recovered first.
‘What happened to the soft, sexy woman I spoke to on Christmas morning, Josie? I don’t understand. I can see the desire in your eyes, for heaven’s sake! Why deny it?’ he challenged in a deep, rasping voice.
Humiliated by her abject surrender to his kiss, she fought to keep her breathing steady and bravely forced her eyes back to his.
‘Put it down to my condition and hormones, if you like. But don’t try and tell me what to do. You are not my keeper.’
‘Oh, but technically I am,’ Conan drawled, with a sardonic tilt of one brow.
Colouring furiously, Josie could not deny he had kept her very comfortably for months, and it made her madder than hell! ‘Not any more,’ she raged. ‘I can earn my own living; I don’t need some pompous oaf telling me what to do.’
‘Why, you...’ Conan snarled, his dark glance raking over her with savage intensity. ‘You selfish little bitch.’ His arm tightened around her, and she raised her hand to ward him off, fearful of this wild-eyed man. Perhaps ‘oaf had been a bit strong, but Conan drove her to it.
‘Josie.’ He said her name, sensing her fear. Dropping one hand from her waist, he ran it distractedly through his hair. His dark eyes sought hers, a hint of regret in their depths. ‘Please, Josie, don’t be afraid of me. I’m sorry; I’m not used to dealing with a pregnant woman.’
‘You don’t have to deal with me,’ she sneered, but inside she was shaking. She wished he would simply let her go. Talking was getting them nowhere, but the way he was holding her, his hard body pressing lightly against her, was arousing a host of erotic sensations she could not control. She felt her breasts swell against the soft wool of her shirt, and the fact that she was responding to him despite herself only infuriated her further.
‘But I want to. I remember how you were in my arms the last night we were together in London,’ Conan reminded her softly.
‘Well, I don’t.’