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silent because he had achieved his objective in getting her to agree to meet his son, and no longer had much to say. That would be typical of him; he was a very focused man, concentrated on getting his own way.

When they had finished their main course Randal asked if she would like a pudding, but she shook her head.

‘If I eat any more I’ll never be able to sleep tonight.’

He nodded. ‘I won’t have anything else, either. Coffee?’

‘No, that might keep me awake, too.’ It was half past ten by then, and she couldn’t stop yawning, so she was sure she would sleep, but coffee might be a mistake.

‘Tired?’

She yawned again, nodded. ‘Sorry. It has been a fraught day. I’ve used up all my energy.’ She rose. ‘I must get some sleep; I’ll have a lot to do tomorrow. I’ll go home, write to the insurance company and resign, and tell them I’m selling my home, then I must talk to an estate agent and put the cottage on the market.’

They walked up the wide, creaking stairs together a few minutes later. ‘What time shall we have breakfast?’ he asked, and she looked at him impatiently.

‘You have it whenever you like!’

‘I want to have it with you,’ he said in a coaxing voice, giving her that smile.

‘How do I know what time I’ll wake up? I didn’t ask for a wake-up call. I may sleep late.’ They arrived at her door. Her key in her hand, she faced him, chin up. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ he said, turning away.

She breathed a little easier; she had had an uneasy feeling he might not go too readily and had been nerving herself for a fight. He turned the corner in the corridor and his footsteps faded. Putting the key in the lock, she opened the door and began to go into her room. A second later Randal was inside too and the door was shut. She hadn’t even heard him coming.

Angrily, she blazed at him. ‘Get out! How dare you? Do I have to scream the place down?’

Randal grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her hungrily, his mouth a sensual temptation. Head swimming, eyes closed, she swayed in his arms, trying desperately not to go under, struggling not to surrender to the physical glamour of his kiss, his touch, his body pressing against hers.

The trouble was, she could never fight her attraction to him. She might stay cool and collected when he was talking to her—she could fight her feelings so long as he didn’t touch her. But as soon as she was in his arms she felt herself weakening, yielding to the powerful erotic sensations he awoke in her. Her mind could not control her body. She felt as though her brain was submerged beneath some level of consciousness her waking mind could not reach. She was helpless in the grip of a desire that beat inside her, deep and harsh and driven, sending wild vibrations through her and silencing all rational thought.

Slowly, Randal pulled his head back and looked down at her, and Pippa opened her eyes to stare back at him, shuddering.

‘You kiss me like that, and yet you keep pretending you don’t want me?’ he whispered. ‘What’s going on inside that head of yours? We’re both free now, there’s nothing to keep us apart—so why are you still fighting it?’

CHAPTER SIX

SHE had asked herself the same question, ever since they’d met again, and she still wasn’t sure of the answer. They were both free now, as he said. She wanted him, she couldn’t deny it—and yet…

And yet for some reason she found herself backing away every time they came too close, and she didn’t know why.

‘You’re moving too fast,’ she guessed aloud without real conviction, pushing at his shoulders and taking a step back. ‘We only met again less than twelve hours ago and a lot has happened since then. My marriage is off, I’m leaving my job and selling my home—the last few hours have been an emotional avalanche. I’m still reeling. The last thing I need is you trying to force the pace.’

He let go of her slowly, frowning. ‘Maybe that’s it. But I’m afraid you’ll run away again. It’s a habit of yours. And you’re deceitful, Pippa. I left you getting ready to have lunch with me earlier today and what did you do? You ran away here, to Maldon. Why did you do that? Maybe that’s what you’re intending to do again. Maybe tomorrow morning I’ll find you’ve skipped the hotel and gone before I get up for breakfast.’

Soberly, she said, ‘I promise I won’t. I give you my word.’

He studied her face intently. ‘You’ll meet me downstairs for breakfast? You swear?’

‘I swear. What time?’

‘Eight-thirty?’

She nodded. ‘Eight-thirty. I’ll be there. Then I’m checking out and going home to write letters and make phone calls.’

He moved towards the door. ‘Okay, see you at breakfast, then.’

She followed so that she could bolt the door as soon as he had left and Randal looked down at her mockingly.

‘Goodnight.’ Bending briefly, he dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose, then he was gone, and Pippa bolted the door after him. That tiny, intimate caress left a warm feeling inside her, though, while she was undressing, taking off her make-up, washing, getting into bed.

There was something special between them; there had been from the beginning. She had never felt anything like that for anyone else. Oh, she liked Tom, but ruefully she had to admit that if she had married him it would have been a disastrous mistake. She would never have loved him, really loved him.

Switching off her bedside lamp, she lay in the darkness listening to the slow lap-lap of water on the quayside, an occasional footfall out there in the damp grey mist. Above her the ancient floors creaked as someone walked across another bedroom. Pipes hummed as water ran. But otherwise the hotel was quiet, nobody seemed to

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