Page 46 of Masquerade

She stuck her head back into the living area.

“We’ve been invited for dinner.”

“In the time it took me to leave the room?” She raised an eyebrow, her expression dubious.

“That school friend of mine. He rang earlier. Just him and his wife, Billy said.” Liam had said he’d let Billy know. Now, he jumped at the opportunity to remind himself he and Kate were colleagues and not-quite friends. The alternative—spending the next few hours plotting how to coax her onto the wide, cushioned, bed-like sofa—was insanity. He’d be tempted to embellish their library fantasy. He’d like her naked the next time she slid her leg up his thigh. “We need to eat,” he muttered.

“Billy is the friend who’s on the protest committee.” She walked part way back into the room, considering him.

“The very same,” he croaked. “I’ll ring to confirm.”

“Have I got time for a shower?” She rolled her shoulders, her sinuous movement leaving his mouth parchment dry. “Ten minutes, tops.”

“Take your time. I want one too.”Cold in his case.

She emerged twenty minutes later, all damp ringlets and flushed skin, wearing jeans and a jewel-toned sweater. Liam leaned in as she passed him. She smelled like Kate. And her insistence on a sensory link to Kate Turner, researcher, grounded him professionally and personally.

“Amarigeby Givenchy.”

“I’m impressed.” If she’d been wearing her glasses, she’d have been looking over the top of them.

“I overheard Fran ask the other night. Is that sweater from Anna’s wardrobe?”

Time to go, Quinn.He was beginning to babble.

“Anna’s favourite, magenta cashmere. She picked it up at a sale. It was a sacrifice of monumental proportions for her to lend it to me.” She held her arms wide. “Her words.”

“The colour suits you.”You idiot, he cursed.If it suited Anna, it would suit Kate. Running his finger down her arm, he felt her give a tiny shiver. She was as nervous as he was about living together and remaining hands off. Dinner with witnesses present gave them both space to regain their balance. “We can walk.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kate had imagined himin his shower while she was in hers. Imagined soaping his shoulders, running her hands around his shoulder blades, lathering his spine with every intention of getting her hands on his very attractive butt. She’d switched the tap to cold long before she’d stepped from the shower stall. Now her only option was to turn her face to the cooling breeze and try to bring her addled thoughts back into line before they arrived.

“Who are we tonight?”

“We’re ourselves. I’m only expecting Billy and his wife, Rosie. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

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