‘In that case, come again soon.’
‘The two of you must come to me next time,’ she said impulsively, then bit her lip. ‘But I’ll have to paint my dining room first. Otherwise it’s the kitchen table again.’
‘As Dad said, it’s something we’ve done often enough before.’ Jack gave her a searching look as he parked outside her house. ‘Tell me, Kate. Why are you doing all the painting yourself? Cash flow problem?’
Kate shook her head. ‘It’s just my way of putting my personal mark on the house—making it really mine.’ She hesitated. ‘Would you like some coffee?’
She unlocked her door and Jack followed her through the brightly lit house to the kitchen. He helped her off with her coat then turned her round into his arms.
‘No coffee, not even ravening lust. Just this, Katie.’ He bent his head and kissed her, and for a moment she stood ramrod stiff, fighting her own response. But as the kiss deepened, her lips parted to the irresistible familiarity and sheer rightness of it. With a sigh she surrendered to the arms which tightened round her, all her senses urging her to taste him, touch him, drink in the male, remembered scent of him as her body responded to the mounting urgency in his. No,reminded a voice in her head and she took in a sharp, shaky breath and pulled free. Jack raised his head and stepped back, eyes gleaming under narrowed lids.
‘When a gentleman sees a lady home he deserves a goodnight kiss.’
She smiled brightly. ‘What’s a kiss between friends?’
‘Do you kiss all your friends like that?’
‘Only the men!’
Jack laughed. ‘The girl I knew would have blushed when she said that.’
Kate shrugged. ‘That girl grew up fast, Jack.’
‘And I’m to blame.’
‘Mostly,’ she agreed, and went with him to the door.
‘I must try to make amends. But before I leave I want something else.’ He grinned as she backed away. ‘Don’t panic—just your mobile phone number.’ He noted the number in his diary, then tore out a page, scribbled his own number and handed it over. ‘Right then, Kate. If you need me, ring me any time. Goodnight.’ Jack kissed her cheek and crossed the pavement to his car.
Mill House was the main topic of conversation over Sunday lunch next day at the Maitland house. Ben was as interested in Kate’s description of the actual property as his wife, but he hooted at the look on Anna’s face when she heard that Tom Logan had been present.
‘Didn’t Jack trust himself alone with you?’ she demanded.
‘Of course he did. But when the past rears its head between us the atmosphere tends to get a little tense. With Mr Logan there as peace-keeper it was a very pleasant evening.’
Anna sighed in disappointment. ‘No red-hot sex then?’
‘For God’s sake, wife,’ said her husband, laughing. ‘You can’t ask questions like that.’
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, yes, she can, and frequently does. But, to satisfy your curiosity, Mrs Maitland, I made it very clear to Jack that the only thing on offer is friendship.’
‘He was happy with that?’ said Ben sceptically.
‘He appears to be.’
‘So when are you seeing him again?’ asked Anna.
‘We haven’t set a date. But it’s up to me, anyway. I’m giving Jack—and his father—supper at my place next time.’
‘Is this going to be a regular kind of thing, then?’
‘I hope so. I’m very fond of Mr Logan.’
Anna hooted. ‘And what about Mr Logan Junior? How do you feel about him?’
‘Ambivalent.’ Kate smiled suddenly. ‘Before I left London people kept asking me what on earth I’d find to do up here in the sticks. Time certainly hasn’t hung heavy so far.’
CHAPTER FIVE