The Ring The Spaniard Gave Her - Lynne Graham Page 0,13

curling lashes fringing his eyes, the sort a woman would have killed to have.

‘You’re not allowed alcohol... Cecile’s orders,’ Ruy told her apologetically.

‘Your sister’s really nice,’ she told him lamely.

‘And I’m not?’ Ruy grinned, having caught the unspoken comparison.

‘You’re just very...forceful,’ Suzy framed.

‘Don’t you dare compare me to him!’ Ruy warned in a husky undertone and something about that tone, something about that smouldering dark golden appraisal, set a fire alight in her pelvis and, without even thinking about it, Suzy leant forward and pressed her parted lips against his.

And for a split second he froze, and she thought, I’ve got it wrong, along with, What the heck am I doing? as astonishment at her aberrant invitation rippled through her. But that was before he responded, a lean hand coming up to cup her nape and tip her head up and he was kissing her back and it was amazing, literally the most electrifying kiss she had ever had. The firm seal of his sensual lips against hers, the delving exploration of his tongue, the very taste of him were overwhelming.

He jerked back from her with such abruptness that she was startled. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said flatly. ‘That shouldn’t have happened. You are not yourself right now.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she began, her face burning hot with mortification because she, unbelievable as it was to her at that moment, had made the first move.

Ruy rested the plate with the sandwich down on her lap. ‘Eat...it’ll help.’

At that point, Suzy wanted to sink through a hole in the mattress rather than try to eat. Her brain felt as if it were in a swamp. She remembered the attraction but not why or how she had succumbed to it. Her body was warming up now, indeed she was nearly too warm, and her hands came up from under the blanket to push it down and free her fingers. Like a drowning swimmer, she snatched at a sandwich as though it were a lifebelt.

Ruy was standing circumspectly now by the side of the bed. ‘You’re confused right now.’

Suzy nodded. Whether she liked it or not, it was sadly true because her brain cells still felt as though they had been plunged into sludge.

Striving to breathe less audibly, Ruy swung away to the window, fiercely aroused, not wanting her to notice the tight fit of his black jeans at the groin. He didn’t know what had happened either. That conflagration of passion had come at him out of the blue and he didn’t like that, he specifically didn’t want any woman to have that much of an effect on him. It was too risky; it didn’t fit into his life plan in which everything was to be in moderation. No wild passion, no fierce sympathy, no anything that made him feel vulnerable or out of control, because that path could lead to devastation and guilty regret and he was determined never to revisit such unnecessary and dangerous feelings again.

The urgent knock at the door sent his head twisting round, gratitude flaring at the awareness that his sister must have arrived, a welcome interruption indeed to the tense atmosphere that was forming.

‘That will be Cecile. I’ll bring her in, leave you to it,’ Ruy intoned with a relief he couldn’t conceal.

Mortified beyond bearing, Suzy lowered her head and cringed inside herself for the mistake she had made.

CHAPTER THREE

CECILE WAS BRISK and kind, the very best she could have been in such circumstances. She gently insisted on documenting and photographing Suzy’s abrasions, informing her that it was a matter of legal procedure.

‘But I don’t want the police involved,’ Suzy proclaimed.

‘Have you really thought that through? Has it occurred to you that he has probably done this sort of stuff before and got away with it? Or that if you don’t make a complaint, some other woman after you will suffer the same as you are now? It could have been much worse for you, Suzy...and he could come after you again.’

All those sensible points got through to Suzy and made her squirm and feel sick and ashamed and frightened, because Percy’s attitude had given her the impression that she was not the first woman that he had attacked. ‘I know it could have been worse...look, I’ll think about it,’ she muttered uneasily.

‘Obviously what you do is up to you,’ Cecile conceded gently. ‘For now, I recommend that you have a nap, because you look exhausted.’

‘I’d love a shower first... I don’t suppose—’ Her