CHAPTER ELEVEN - FALLING

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“I didn’t think you fraternised with the staff,” Margaret said breathlessly, her voice catching in response to the all-encompassing embrace of his eyes.

“I don’t,” he replied thickly, finally releasing her hand to mould his own loosely against her hip. She tensed at the electric connection. Oh God, he was so close! She could smell the woody scent of his aftershave as his breathing became more perceptible. She could feel the pure earthy sensuality of him.

“But I’m one of the staff.”

A guttural laugh emanated from his throat. “I find it very difficult to think of you as one of my employees, Margaret. Virtually impossible, in fact, despite all my efforts to do so.”

In reception the telephone began ringing, cutting out just as suddenly as it had begun. It served as a pertinent reminder that they weren’t alone. She heard Helena’s congenial tones, her laugh, coming from reception. “What if Helena comes in? She’ll wonder what’s going on.”

His other hand rose to frame her face briefly before he started to stroke it in a long velvet caress from her temple to the base of her neck, triggering a response so intense that she was grateful to have the copier to support her. “And what’s going on Miss Hale?” His eyes tangled with hers, deeply penetrating, challenging her to admit what was happening between them.

She couldn’t begin to explain. She was lost. Time ceased to tick in minutes, but in heartbeats, shuddering and erratic. She clutched tighter at the sides of the photocopier.

“I didn’t think you’d be lost for words,” he murmured. The tips of his fingers whispered like feathers over her skin, searching, learning, his blue eyes melding with hers. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“What question?” She could hardly breathe, his ambush on her feelings leaving her reeling.

“You know what question.” He craned his neck so that his mouth hovered at her ear, his breath licking like a flame. “Dinner tonight.” She felt her eyes flutter shut as a sultry heat invaded her entire body, drawing her further away from reality and deeper into that world where only the two of them existed. “Or shall I take your silence as your agreement?”

Beyond the window came the heavy, metallic rolling of barrels along the pavement like a wave of approaching thunder as the brewery delivered a new order for the hotel cellar. A sudden, hollow clang of an empty barrel falling over jerked Margaret back into the present, shattering the magic.

She knew that she had to create some space between them and her palms came up instinctively to rest flush against his shirt. She willed herself to ignore the incredible warmth of his body beneath the thin cotton, her elbows buckling ineffectually into the narrow chasm between them, trying without success to lever them a bit and push him back a little, even though he remained firmly rooted in place.

The shadow of Ann Latimer stole across her mind like a black approaching storm cloud marching upon a sunlit day, the reality of their situation pushing itself forward, screaming for recognition. “How can I say yes?” Margaret said, utterly bereft by the looming spectre of another woman inhabiting his life, that tender communication that had so enraptured them suddenly replaced by a frigid dose of reality. He took a step backwards so that her hands dropped away from his chest and she could stand upright at last.

“What’s the matter?” he asked warily, anxiety and confusion leaping in his eyes.

She bit down on her lip, not really knowing how to begin. She couldn’t risk being hurt any more than she was already going to be. She’d already allowed herself to feel too much for this man. Her hands began to shake and in an attempt to hide just how much she slipped them into her jacket pockets.

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