Page 16 of Love By Sunset

‘God, but you’reoutrageous,’ Emily exclaimed as she stood and led the way back to the sitting-room.

In moments, a log fire crackled in the stove, the lights had been dimmed, and music played on a hidden sound system.

Jake sank onto the settee and patted the space beside him. She shook her head, laughing, her body leaning into him. Her eyes slowly changed from being amused to blatant desire, a look that surely mirrored the look in his own eyes. She was giving in to it as he already had. Good.

This time, hewasslow. Very slow. And later, in bed, he worshipped her body and took her, again and again, to her climax. With his tongue, with his fingers, and by leading her to such a pitch with his own tender love-making. All that mattered to him was that she felt loved, every bit of her, and that she would have no cause to regret her decision.

CHAPTER9

It was latewhen Emily finally awoke in the rumpled bed, the sun spilling through the window. The pillow next to hers was dented, and she buried her face into it, smelling salt, sweat and cinnamon. She was boneless and tired, even after sleeping for the last five or six hours. Before that, there’d been no chance under Jake’s onslaught. Just thinking about it made her breasts tingle and her heart race. He was right. She’d never known what sex… she hesitated. Sex? Was that what it had been? Slowly, she shook her head. No. They’d been making love. No-one who could murmur such endearments or touch her as lovingly as Jake had was just having sex. That was perfunctory and basic, with no time wasted on endearments, and self-gratification was the only desired outcome. It hadn’t been about self last night, but had been about the other person.Allabout the other person.

Making love.

But did Jake feel the same, or was it just her putting a romantic slant on it all? And anyway, how could it be love after only just meeting him? It was too weird. She really couldn’t let herself see any future with him.Hewouldn’t, because he’d made it clear she was a holiday fling, commitment was a dirty word, and he didn’t do love. As well, there was the problem of the café forever between them. Last night, she’d tried to talk to Jake about it, her company, who she was, but he’d overridden her and made her lose all thoughts of serious discussion when he’d kissed her and told her what he wanted to do. Eventhinkingabout it made the heat throb between her legs.

She swung her legs out of bed, tempted by the smell of coffee and… was thatbacon?

Which brought her full circle to what the hell had been going on last night. If this was his idea of a holiday fling—

‘Emily?’ His voice called from the bottom of the narrow staircase, interrupting her thoughts.

‘Yes?’

‘Do you want breakfast?’

‘Time for a shower?’

‘Quick one.’

Emily needed the shower, but according to Jake’s instruction she made it quick. Ten minutes after his call, without make-up and with her towel-dried hair still dripping down her back, she entered the kitchen, her eyes widening. Butter in a butter dish. Warm rolls in a basket, lined with a real serviette. Places laid. Earthenware coffee cups, cafetière and cream jug. Toast. Marmalade. And over by the stove, with an apron tied round his lean and delectable body, Jake, with the tangled fringe and sleepy, come-to-bed eyes, his top lip a tempting bow, his lower lip full and so, so sexy. Emily remembered sucking it last night and a flare of colour heated her cheeks. How the hell did this guy avoid some woman tying him down?

Emily would. If she could. If she didn’t know better. Or maybe she wouldn’t because then he couldn’t stand there looking like that flipping eggs and reminding she was a starving woman, and not just for the breakfast he was cooking. She grinned. If she tied him down, she’d encourage him to make breakfast at least three times every week. Wearing nothing but the apron.

Nothing permanent could come of this, but oh, she so wished things were different.

As she watched him, an idea entered her head. Jake said there was a will. She had a key to Haven House. Maybe she could search the house and find it? How wonderful that would be for him. If she found it, it definitely meant her company would be out of the picture. And it would ease her conscious without the need ever to bring it up.

Jake glanced up and smiled. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ He moved over to the table and placed a plate with bacon, egg, mushroom and tomato down. ‘Breakfast.’

‘All that?’ Emily moved forward and sat.

Jake gave a wicked grin. ‘I imagine it’ll go down. We had plenty of exercise overnight. And there’ll be more, so I need to keep your strength up.’ He sat down and pulled the toast rack over, picking out a piece and buttering it.

‘What time is it, anyway?’

‘Gone eleven.’

‘What?’

‘Oh, come on, we deserved a lie-in.’ He cut some bacon, balanced a mushroom on top, and put it in his mouth.

Emily watched every move, already wondering when they could return upstairs. ‘Have you closed the café?’

‘No way. Jenny’s in charge this morning, but I said I’d be there by twelve. We can deal with the lunchtime rush together, then she can go home early, in thanks for opening up.’

Emily felt disappointed, although just because she’d taken a fortnight’s holiday was no reason Jake would do the same.

After all, to him, she was only a holiday fling.