McGillivray's Mistress - By Anne McAllister Page 0,30
didn’t leave. He just stood there staring at her.
Fiona’s brows lifted. “What? Do you want a tip?”
Even in the dim glow from the porch light, she saw a muscle in his temple twitch. “No, I do not want a tip. I want…this!”
And suddenly, astonishingly, he was kissing her.
His lips came down hard on hers, demanding, insistent, hungry. His arms wrapped around her, his chest pressed against hers.
It was what her brother Mike used to call a “full-body kiss.” Very like the one Lachlan had given her when he’d taken her to his boat.
And just as she’d given in to it then, Fiona’s resistance was no proof against it now. As perverse, annoying and irritating as it was, her determination melted, her defenses crumbled.
She was putty in his hands. Again. But unlike last time, there was no water to topple them into!
She moaned. Her lips parted under his, welcoming his urgency, inviting his invasion. All her childhood dreams were reawakened. All her longings surged within.
Fool, fool, fool! she called herself. But she wanted it—wanted him!
And then, all at once, Lachlan pulled back. His arms which had wrapped her let her go, and he stood breathing harshly, eyes glinting as he stared down into her eyes.
“Next time you want to flirt with someone, I’m available.”
And then he spun on his heel, stalked down the steps and out the front gate without looking back.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT DIDN’T MAKE SENSE.
Fiona lay in her narrow bed, feeling Lachlan’s kiss against her mouth, reliving it over and over, and wondering what on earth that was all about!
Next time you want to flirt with someone, I’m available.
He hadn’t been jealous of David surely?
Of course not!
Lachlan McGillivray would never be jealous of anyone. Not even an earl. He’d have no reason. He could have any woman he wanted.
He could, she thought grimly, have had her!
He was the one who’d broken off the kiss.
So why—?
Was he simply being possessive? Pelican Cay was his island. Therefore, as an islander, Fiona belonged to him. Probably, she thought.
Jerk.
Oh yes. But God, what a kisser he was!
The first time she’d been kissed by Lachlan McGillivray, the night he’d taken her on to his boat, it had very nearly blown her mind.
Fiona had kissed men before—a few. Well, admittedly, very few. And she’d been kissed by them. So she wasn’t a complete novice.
But she’d never had a kiss like that one. Had never even imagined such kisses existed. It had promised things that Fiona could only guess at.
But as much as she’d wanted it—and more—from Lachlan McGillivray for years and years, the one thing she knew it didn’t promise was forever. What Lachlan wanted—a night of sex—and what she wanted—a lasting love—weren’t close to the same thing.
So to save them both making a huge mistake, she’d tipped them into the water.
Afterward she’d managed to convince herself that the effect of his kiss had been a fluke. The reason it had had such an effect was because she’d wanted it for so long—that was all.
But it wasn’t all.
Dear God, no, it wasn’t—because it had happened again tonight.
She’d nearly ignited from the fire his kiss had fanned between them. Her common sense and instinct for self-preservation had flat-out deserted her. God knew where it would have ended if Lachlan hadn’t pulled back.
Well, actually Fiona was afraid she knew, too.
And how mortifying was that.
Especially since, up until the kiss, she thought she’d handled the evening very well. Her nerves had calmed under Julie’s enthusiastic support. And her sister-in-law’s dress had given her the confidence that she at least looked as if she belonged there.
The dinner had gone well. She’d chatted easily with David—thanks more to his charm than her social skills, no doubt. But still, thinking back over the evening, she felt good about it.
Everything had been perfect—until David had kissed her.
What? No. That wasn’t right. David hadn’t kissed her.
But he had, she remembered. They’d been discussing the possibility of her giving talks to his tour groups, and she’d hesitated, then agreed to at least consider it. And he’d been delighted and he’d kissed her.
A peck on the cheek, nothing more. Hardly even memorable. And the next second Lachlan was on his feet, asking for the check, and practically herding them out the door as he did so.
Surely one hadn’t caused the other!
No, of course it hadn’t. He’d simply looked at his watch, realized it was time for Skip and Nadine to be heading off for the Grouper. It made perfect sense.
Everything made sense.
Except why he’d been so