Page 84 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
“Not with you.” For a moment his eyes reflected warm sincerity, then they flashed with wicked humour. “I wouldn’t dare.”
She snatched a tea towel from the worktop and flicked it at his shoulder. He caught it and pulled her towards him, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Pour the wine.”
She retreated behind the island and perched on one of the stools as her heartbeat slowly returned to normal. He had moved over to the glassy hob and was deftly stirring the noodles, prawns and scrambled egg in a large wok.
This was crazy. She had decided weeks ago that she wasn’t going to let herself fall in love with him . . .
Whoa!She wasn’t in love with him. Of course she wasn’t. Paul Channing was the last man any sensible woman would fall in love with. He was an unashamed player — all his relationships were easy come, easy go. In fact, according to Lisa, he chose his girlfriends on the basis that they had great legs. That was hardly a recommendation.
To distract herself from that unsettling train of thought she picked up the wine bottle, unscrewed the top and filled the two glasses, taking a deep swig of hers.
It was better than she had anticipated, light and slightly sweet, with a faintly fruity, smoky flavour.
“Hey!” Paul chided her, laughing. “Careful, I don’t want you to get drunk.”
“Don’t you?”
“Of course not.” Those dark eyes glinted with wicked intent. “When I take you to bed, I want you wide awake and sober.I don’t want you claiming I took advantage of you the next morning.”
“You think you’re going to take me to bed?” she challenged, aware that the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.
“Or you can take me — I don’t mind which. But for now . . . dinner.”
His abrupt change of subject caught her still struggling for breath. She was sure he did that deliberately, to keep her off-balance, unable to think straight.
But the plate that he placed before her was a powerful distraction — a fiesta of colours and textures and rich aromas, tantalising her taste buds.
“Looks good,” she approved, picking up her fork. “Oh, wow!” The subtle blend of flavours on her tongue more than lived up to the promise. “This is fabulous! How did you learn to cook like this?”
“I had a teammate from Thailand — Tommy Thongchai. He loved to cook, and he taught me this and a few other Thai dishes.”
“Well, it’s really excellent. And before you ask, you get five points.”
He laughed, that low, husky laugh that did crazy things to her heartbeat. How did you disentangle sexual attraction from love? Or liking from both? Was it even possible to fall in love with someone you’d only known for a little more than a month?
Or was she just on the rebound? That was a sobering thought. Just because she was sure she was over Glenn didn’t mean she wasn’t susceptible to a rebound reaction.
* * *
They ate in silence for a while. Paul watched Jess, fascinated by the changing expressions flickering behind her eyes. What was she thinking? Was she remembering that kiss? He hadn’tplanned it — it had been pure impulse. But if it had taken her by surprise, she hadn’t objected. And she had stayed.
He had kissed a lot of women — alot. But none had been as fiery and as sweet as Jessica Bennett. He’d wanted a lot of women, but he’d never wanted one quite as much as he wanted her.
Which was moving into dangerous territory.
“How’s the wine?” he asked.
She took another sip. “Actually, it’s quite good.”
“Told you so.”
She laughed. “I was going to award you a point for it, but you just lost it again. Nobody likes a smart-arse.”
Oh, he liked that provocative sense of humour. Most of the women he had dated over the years tended to just sweetly agree with everything he said. Which could get rather boring.
“What do you think of the work on the hotel so far?” he asked.
