Page 26 of Enticement
Evie frowned. Wasn’t that obvious? “’Cause he might get a bit upset if people start hinting that we’re having an affair behind his back.”
“But we’re not,” Kit said bluntly, leaving her with the distinct impression that his words didn’t mean precisely what they seemed at first glance.
He undid his seatbelt and took the phone off her, slipping it into the glove compartment. “Don’t waste your time on theatrics. I think Ross’ll manage to handle any chaff that gets thrown his way.”
Evie remained unconvinced. If their situations were reversed, she’d be livid if she caught wind of rumours about Ross having an affair, particularly with one of her oldest friends. Then again, she was far more easily wound up than Ross, who mostly let things blow past him like autumn leaves in the wind. Maybe he’d trust them and ignore the circulating nonsense.
“Kit, why did you leave Kirkley? I’ve been wondering, and Lillianna said…”
“Surprised it’s taken you all week to ask.” He tilted his head to one side in order to look at her, and his dark fringe fell over his face so that it shrouded his left eye. “I had to. Didn’t have any choice. I wasn’t welcome anymore, and my presence wasn’t doing Ross any favours. I didn’t want to get him tarnished by association.”
“Not welcome? In what sense?”
“In every sense, Evie.” His dark eyes bore into her and yet revealed nothing beside a hint of cold lingering anger over the injustice of it all.
“I don’t get it. Tarnished him how?”
Kit shrugged and drained his cup, which he crushed within his hand and chucked into the back. “Just stuff. It happens and people form opinions, and then it doesn’t matter what the truth is, because you’re already damned.”
“Hence the implications that you’re the devil incarnate?”
“Is that the current consensus?”
Evie shook her head. “Lillianna’s description, no one else’s. She said you were a bad, bad boy.”
Suddenly a spark lit in his devil’s eyes and he glanced at her from under his brows and long fringe. “No, Evie. I’m a bad, bad man. Not a boy.” He placed his hand upon her thigh. “Want to find out how bad? It’ll make your toes curl.”
Her toes were already curled, a combination of the rapidly drifting snow outside and the heat suddenly surging through her midriff in response to his touch. Shit! This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t allowed to be happening, and yet his palm print seemed to be seared into her thigh. What the hell was going on? Where had this come from? One minute they were talking and agreeing that nothing was going on that Ross needed to worry about, and the next he was getting all touchy-feely and husky voiced.
Kit fanned out his fingers and then dipped them down between her legs.
Terrified and squeamishly aroused, she jumped as much as the belt and the back support would allow, which was only a matter of centimetres and clamped her legs together, unwittingly trapping his fingers.
“Nice and warm in here,” he mused, wiggling his fingers. His grin stretched, seductively broad. “We’re getting a bit steamed up.”
Condensation now coated the inside of the windows while snow flakes peppered the outer. Evie’s skin felt similarly dotted with perspiration as hot need sent prickles running up and down her throat. It made her breasts tingle and her abdomen swell with the rush of blood. Don’t move that hand, don’t move it, she repeated, mantra-like in her head, while a second devil’s voice coaxed in a sultry whisper for him to do exactly that, and more, to press his thumb up against her willing slit.
Damn him. Damn everything. He made her want to do the wildest, craziest things. She fancied him. Okay, she admitted it. Had from that first moment she’d seen him in the shower, but that didn’t excuse her behaviour. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t getting any, nor that her relationship with Ross sucked in any other way. At least if that had been true playing away from home might have been justifiable. But it wasn’t, and she wasn’t going to. She was going to stop this rampant nonsense, right now. She wasn’t sacrificing happy ever after with a mortgage and a houseful of pets for a stealthy grope from Mr. Bad Man.
“Kit!” she croaked, intending to sound commanding, not like a frog with a sore throat.
To her dismay, instead of being put off by her warning, he made an ungainly exit out of the driver’s seat and clambered over the gear stick to straddle her lap. “Yes-ss.”
“What are you doing? Get off me. You’re not proving anything besides how irresponsible you are.”
Kit grasped her hands, folding his fingers around hers so that their palms lay pressed together at her shoulder height.
“May as well be damned as a sinner than as a saint.” He leaned a little closer, so that their loins slid closer together.
Pinned by his weight, the seat belt and the clasp of his palms, Evie stared at him unblinking, unable to turn away from the intensity of his gaze, or the seductive promise of his parted lips. Ever since that night when she’d dreamed about Kit fucking her while Ross lay beside them asleep, her libido had been haywire. She and Ross had been going at it like bunnies every night, until they collapsed into exhausted, dreamless sleep. The dream hadn’t recurred, but she’d re-imagined it during idle moments at work, reworking the scenario so that Ross was awake and watching them, and another time an active participant in their lovemaking, taking her as he and Kit had taken that girl in the tent years ago.
“Kit. Don’t,” she bleated, their lips almost touching.
His breath caressed her face as he spoke. “Is that your best defence?” He raised an eyebrow and winced as the movement tugged at his wound. “That’s hardly an encouragement to stop. It’s barely protest enough to stop you feeling guilty.”
“I love him.”
The soft whisper of his breaths tickled. “So do I.” There wasn’t enough time to think about that. He pecked her upon the cheek, in the quickest, most chaste manner she’d experienced since kissing the vicar on Christmas Eve, his lips barely brushing her skin. Then he opened the car door and got out.
