'To make things hard for yourself,' burst out Kate impatiently. 'I thought you wanted us to be friends.'

'I find I no longer have any inclination in that direction,' he told her harshly. 'And as far as making things hard for myself is concerned, believe me, you have no idea.'

Kate pushed herself away from the door. 'Then tell me,' she said imploringly. 'I do want to understand.'

'Do you?' His eyes moved to some place behind her head and she could see the battle he was having with himself to resist her argument. 'I don't think you have any conception of how I feel.'

'Then tell me!' she exclaimed urgently, and with a groan of defeat he turned back towards the living room.

'I guess I will take you up on that offer of a drink,' he said flatly, and Kate felt a mixture of apprehension and relief.

This time, Alex didn't wait for her invitation to sit down. Unb.u.t.toning his jacket again, he flung himself onto the sofa, and Kate gathered herself sufficiently to ask him what he'd like to drink.

'You don't have a great deal of choice,' she admitted ruefully. 'Just wine, or beer, or a soft drink.' She hesitated. 'Have you eaten?'

Alex tilted his head to look up at her. 'Are you going to feed me, too?' he asked, with gentle mockery, and the warmth of his smile sent rivulets of heat into her quivering stomach.

'Well, I was going to make myself an omelette,' she admitted. 'And maybe a salad.' She paused.

'If you'd like to join me, I'm sure there's enough for two.'

Alex studied her face for what seemed like eons, but which was probably just a few seconds, and then he nodded. 'Sounds good,' he conceded. 'If you don't mind?'

In fact, Kate was wondering what had possessed her to invite him for a meal. After tasting Mrs Muir's cooking, she was unhappily aware that her efforts just didn't compare, and eggs and salad were hardly appropriate fare.

'You wouldn't rather have pizza, would you?' she asked hurriedly. 'I can send out for-'

'An omelette is fine with me,' Alex told her firmly, and, getting to his feet again, he took off his jacket and slung it over the back of a chair. 'Come on. I'll help you.'

Kate led the way into the kitchen wishing she'd stuck at offering him a beer. The kitchen at the flat was small and obviously much different from the kitchen at Jamaica Hill, and she was overwhelmingly aware of his powerful bulk in the confined s.p.a.ce.

'Did-did you decide what you wanted to drink?' she asked, determining not to let him see how he disturbed her, thrusting the cold ca.s.serole back into the cooker out of sight.

'I'll wait till we eat,' he said, propping his hips against the breakfast bar. He shrugged. 'What do you want me to do?'

'There's not a lot to do.' Kate took the bag of lettuce from the fridge and shook it into adish.

'You could open the wine, I suppose.'

'Fine. Where is it?'

'It's in the fridge, too,' she replied, turning back for eggs and tomatoes. She handed the bottle to him and indicated a drawer. 'The corkscrew's in there.'

She noticed that he loosened the collar of his shirt and pulled his tie away before tackling the bottle. He'd already turned the sleeves of his shirt back to his elbows, and she was unwillingly fascinated by the light covering of hair that darkened his wrists. His watch was a plain gold one, she observed, on a tan-coloured leather strap.

'Did you know your husband was seeing another woman?' he asked abruptly, and she bit back an unwary exclamation.

'I beg your pardon?'

He fixed the corkscrew in place before giving her a sidelong look. 'I think you heard me,' he said quietly. 'Did you?'

Kate caught her breath. 'Why do you want to know?'

'Humour me.'

She hesitated for a few moments, and then said tightly, 'No. No, I didn't.'

'Me, neither,' he remarked, attacking the cork. 'Know that Pam was having an affair, I mean.'

He gave a derisive snort. 'I must have been the only one who didn't.'

Kate turned her head to look at him. 'What do you mean?'

He paused in what he was doing and blew out a breath. 'Because the man involved worked for me.'

Kate's lips parted. 'He was a groom?'

'No.' Alex sighed. 'He worked on the estate.' He considered for a moment, and then said flatly, 'His name was Muir. Philip Muir.'

Kate gasped. 'Mrs Muir's son?'

'You know about her son?' Alex frowned, and Kate hurried to explain.

'I know he died,' she said quickly. 'I-I met Mrs Muir in the supermarket last week, and she invited me to have tea with her in the cafe. She was asking me about Sean, and I told her he'd been killed in a car crash. That's when she told me that both her son and her husband were dead.'

The furrow between Alex's brows deepened. 'And did she tell you anything else?'

Guessing he meant had the housekeeper been gossiping, Kate shook her head. 'It was all perfectly innocent,' she a.s.sured him. 'Your name was hardly mentioned. She certainly didn't talk about your wife, if that's what you're getting at.'

Alex's shoulders sagged. 'No.' He gave a slight nod of his head. 'I should have known better than to ask something like that. So you won't know that Philip took his own life about six weeks before Pam was killed?'

Kate looked stunned. 'I had no idea. Was it-was it-connected?'

'With Pam being pregnant, you mean?' Alex pulled out the cork with undue force. 'You could say that, I suppose. She'd apparently finished with him a couple of weeks before it happened.'

'Oh, no.' Kate was appalled. Then she frowned. 'But I thought you said you hadn't known about the affair.'

Alex's expression grew sardonic. 'Still checking up on me, Mrs Hughes?' he mocked disarmingly. 'I didn't. The Muirs told me-after Pam was dead.'

Kate expelled an unsteady breath. 'I wasn't checking up on you,' she protested, but to herself she wondered if that was entirely true. Yet she doubted she would be reporting their conversation to Henry Sawyer. It was far too important to her to be sullied by his coa.r.s.e claims.

'Whatever.' Alex turned to watch her now as she broke half a dozen eggs into a bowl. Then, as she picked up the whisk and began to beat them, his eyes lowered to her bosom, and in a strangled voice he said, 'Are you wearing anything under that suit?'

The whisk clattered into the bowl and Kate's face turned scarlet. 'Do you always ask such personal questions?' she asked. 'Or do you just enjoy shocking me?'

'I was interested,' murmured Alex huskily. 'I was remembering how soft your skin was that afternoon in the library, and how much I wanted to take your clothes off.' His eyes grew sensual on hers. 'Of course, I wouldn't have done it. Take your clothes off, I mean. I wouldn't have wanted to embarra.s.s Mrs Muir.'

Kate expelled a sound that mingled disbelief with outrage. 'But you don't have any qualms about embarra.s.sing me!'

'Am I embarra.s.sing you?' He had been lounging against the counter beside her, but now he came abruptly to his feet. 'I'm sorry. I guess I was just thinking out loud.'

'Do you think that makes me feel any better?' Kate groped for the whisk again but her hand was shaking so much that she couldn't go on beating the eggs.

'Do you want me to go?' he asked tensely, and she knew that even now she had only to say the word and he'd walk out of the apartment. She wondered how she could ever have doubted this man's innocence. If it wasn't such a crazy-futile-notion she'd have said she was falling in love with him herself.

'What do you think?' she demanded now, half snappily, her own emotions working overtime as she fought to bring them under control. She caught her breath. 'You should know better than that. Dammit, you know that's not what I want.'

'Do I?'

He looked down at her with eyes that seemed to burn with a latent fire, and she swayed towards him, half a fraid he still doubted her even now. Her hands spread against his waistcoat, her thumbs catching on the b.u.t.tons, feeling the strong beat of his heart throbbing in his chest.

She breathed a little sigh of relief when he bent his head towards her, and when his lips brushed hers she parted them to his tongue. His hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him, and he deepened the kiss with the hungry pressure of his mouth.

His hands possessed her, moving over her shoulders with spine-tingling familiarity, creating an intimacy between them that she'd never known with any other man. His fingers explored the sensitive curve of her back as his tongue sought and stroked the quivering length of hers, drawing her lower lip into his mouth and biting gently on the vulnerable inner flesh.

Kate's knees almost buckled when his hands invaded the waistband of her sweatpants, cupping her bare bottom and bringing her fully against him.

'I knew you weren't wearing anything else,' he muttered huskily against the whorl of her ear, and she clutched his neck to prevent herself from sagging to the floor. 'Open your legs,' he added urgently, and although she was too bemused to consciously follow his direction he had no difficulty in inserting his muscled thigh between hers.

The touch of his leg pressing against that most sensitive part of her anatomy was breathtaking, the rub of the soft cloth of the sweatpants causing a damp heat that she was sure he must be able to feel. She felt as if she was drowning in sensual sensation, and she was almost relieved when he swung her up into his arms and carried her into the other room.

It wasn't until she felt the cool linen of the sofa cushions at her back that she realised her sweatpants were around her knees, but by then Alex had joined her. His hand took the place of his thigh between her legs, and she clutched the unb.u.t.toned collar of his shirt when he found the moist petals that opened to his touch.

'Wait...'

Kate fumbled frantically with the rest of the b.u.t.tons on his shirt and waistcoat, but although Alex allowed her to tear his shirt open he made no attempt to help her.

'Relax,' he told her roughly, bending to stroke her ear with his tongue, caressing the fluttering pulse he found there as his thumb caressed the sensitive nub between her legs.

Kate had barely pressed his shirt from his shoulders when her body convulsed, and she let out a little cry of anguish as wave upon wave of uncontrollable feeling swept over her. Her body throbbed around his fingers, soaking him with her heat, and he bent his head and covered her lips with his.

When she was capable of coherent thought again, Kate gazed at him with indignant eyes. 'That wasn't fair.'

'What wasn't fair?'

She moved her head from side to side, reaching for her sweatpants, trying to drag them up her legs. 'You-you didn't-'

'I know.' He prevented her from covering herself with very little effort. He shrugged. 'I don't have any protection. Besides, I wasn't sure you'd want-'

'Well, I did. I do,' she told him hotly. And, realising she had to prove it, she wriggled into a sitting position and reached for his belt. 'Take your clothes off.'

Alex's eyes darkened. 'What if someone comes-?'

'I've told you! My mother and Joanne won't be back for hours!' she exclaimed fiercely. 'Go on. I mean it. Take your clothes off.'

'All of them?' he asked mockingly, and she struggled onto her knees, kicking off her own sweatpants in the process.

'Yes,' she said huskily. 'I want to see you too.'

She thought he wasn't going to obey her, but she could see the pressure of his arousal swelling against his zip, and with a temerity she hadn't known she possessed she covered it with her hand.

His reaction was violent, and, holding her gaze with his, he unbuckled his belt and opened his zip.

Beneath silk boxers, his thickness thrust into her hand, but he held her away from him while he disposed of the rest of his clothes.

'Don't,' he said hoa.r.s.ely, and she could see how close to losing control he was.

It was then that she realised she was still wearing the top of her suit, and, peeling it off, she subsided against the cushions again. This time, Alex stretched his length beside her, and his mouth moved down her throat to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Although she was sure he was impatient to satisfy his own needs, he took the time to suckle each hard nipple, and she could feel herself getting aroused again by the hot hunger of his lips and teeth.

She almost stopped breathing altogether when he buried his face in the curls between her legs.

But, apparently, there were limits to even his control, and when he moved over her again he nudged her legs apart.

She raised her knees as he knelt between them, and then he was pushing into her moist pa.s.sage and her muscles were stretching, stretching to accommodate his length.

She ached at the unaccustomed invasion. It was so long since she'd been with a man, but it was heavenly, too, feeling Alex as a part of her at last. She wanted to wind her legs and arms around him, and keep him there inside her, but already other needs were demanding satisfaction.

'You're beautiful,' he muttered unsteadily, looking down at where their bodies were joined, and she uttered a quivery sigh.

'So are you,' she told him, and when he put his hand beneath her bottom and lifted her against him she eagerly wound her legs about his waist.

It was all over much too quickly. Almost as soon as Alex began to move, thrusting himself against her, her senses spun wildly out of control. And by the time he was shuddering with his own release rippling spasms of ecstasy were taking her up and up, ever higher, penetrating the very core of her being and tilting her into s.p.a.ce...

CHAPTER TEN.

ALEXdrove back to Jamaica Hill feeling better than he'd felt in years. Maybe better than he'd ever felt before, he conceded ruefully, aware that he'd never been with a woman who responded so delightfully to his every touch.

And he'd wanted to touch her, he acknowledged now, right from the very first moment he'd seen her standing talking to Sam Guthrie. He'd known even then she was provocation, in tight leggings and a tweed jacket, and he mocked himself for the instantaneous way he'd responded to her appeal.

But, in the event, it had turned out that she had wanted him too, and in the aftermath of this evening's lovemaking she had admitted it. Indeed, they'd spent so long exploring one another's attraction that they had barely had time to get dressed again before her mother and Joanne had got back from Bath. That would have been something for the tabloids, he thought dryly. Apicture of him and Kate cavorting on the sofa in her living room would just about finish him off.

An exaggeration, perhaps, but there was no doubt that the stables' recovery was a fragile thing at best, and another scurrilous piece of journalism was exactly what Conrad Wyatt needed to persuade a judge that he was totally amoral, and therefore no fit guardian for his daughter.

But, thankfully, that hadn't happened. Indeed, when Kate's daughter had found that he'd spent the evening with her mother she'd been gratifyingly positive about the whole affair.

'I knew it was your Range Rover that was parked downstairs!' Joanne had exclaimed, turning triumphantly to her grandmother. 'Didn't I say so, Nan?'

'You may have done so.'

Mrs Ross had been slightly less enthusiastic about his appearance, but Alex decided that was understandable. She hardly knew him, after all, and it was too soon to expect her to welcome him with open arms.