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began to ask questions to which she had no answer ‘—and, um, let you have your shower.’

      ‘Oh, please, don’t rush off.’

      He was across the room before she could escape, his hand flat against the door, towering over her as she backed up hard against it in an attempt to put some space between them so that he wouldn’t feel the wild, nervous hammering of her heart.

      In an attempt to avoid the magnetic pull of his body.

      ‘I so rarely encounter this level of entertainment before breakfast.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      RICHARD MALLORY’S chest, those heroic shoulders, the warm male scent of his flesh, was making it very hard to breathe normally. A fact she was sure he knew only too well.

      ‘I—um—’

      ‘Why don’t you stay and join me?’

      Join him?

      With one hand keeping the door firmly shut, he used the other to deal with a wayward strand of hair that had been dragged from its scrunchy as she’d fought her way through the hedge and was now slowly descending across her face.

      It wasn’t just his eyes that generated electricity. Her skin fizzed, tightened at his touch and not just on her cheek, her temple. Her entire body reacted as if it had been jump-started like some long dead battery.

      No. Not long dead. Never charged.

      ‘Join you?’ she repeated, stupidly.

      Did he mean in the shower?

      Why didn’t that sound like a totally impossible idea? And what on earth was he doing to her hair?

      She flattened herself against the door, moved her mouth in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. Something along the lines of What the hell do you think you’re doing? should do it. No, it would have to be something simpler. Stop…

      He plucked a twig from her hair, holding it up for her inspection. ‘I hope you didn’t do Her Ladyship’s perfectly clipped hedge mortal damage.’ Then, without waiting for her to elaborate on the extent of the mayhem she’d caused in Lady McBride’s exquisite formal roof terrace, ‘I won’t be more than five minutes. Stay and tell me all about your athletic pet over some scrambled eggs—’

      Five minutes? Eggs? Then reality sunk in.

      ‘Eggs?’ she repeated. ‘You meant join you for breakfast?’

      His mouth widened in a lazy smile that deepened the lines bracketing his mouth.

      ‘What else?’

      Her own mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before she finally managed to engage teeth and tongue and exclaim, ‘Are you serious?’ And feigning blank astonishment—which wasn’t difficult, blank perfectly described the state of her mind—she covered her blushes by snatching the twig from him and stuffing it into her pocket. ‘I had breakfast hours ago. It’s nearly lunchtime. I shouldn’t be here at all. I should be working…’

      ‘Plants to water, whatnots to dust…?’

      ‘A woman’s work…’ she agreed, leaving him to complete the saying. It wasn’t politically correct—her mother would have been shocked that she could even think such thoughts. But her mother wasn’t here to criticise and right at that moment she’d have said anything to escape…

      All she had to do was move. All she had to do was remember how.

      ‘How did the McBrides find you?’ he asked while she was still thinking about it.

      ‘Find me?’ She hadn’t been lost… ‘Oh, I see. It was a personal introduction. I know their daughter-in-law. Philly. Slightly,’ she added. She wasn’t claiming any deep personal friendship. ‘She knew I needed somewhere to stay in London for the summer and they needed someone…’

      ‘To feed the goldfish?’

      ‘Look, I’d better go.’

      But he wasn’t quite finished with her.

      ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’

      ‘Am I?’

      ‘Hector?’ he prompted. ‘Surely you’re not going to abandon him?’

      Drat with knobs on.

      ‘He could be anywhere,’ she offered just a little desperately, discovering too late that a make-believe pet could be as much trouble as a real one. ‘He’ll have found himself a quiet corner and gone to sleep by now.’ He was beginning to assume a presence and character all his own. ‘They’re nocturnal, you know.’ She swallowed. ‘H-hamsters.’

      ‘Is that a fact? Then I’ll be sure not to make too much noise. He must be tired after all that effort.’ And he finally straightened, releasing her from his personal force field which had held her fixed to the spot far more effectively than any door. When she still didn’t move he said, ‘Well, if you’re sure I can’t tempt you…’

      ‘No!’ Did that sound too vehement? She was beyond caring. ‘I really do have to go.’

      ‘If you insist.’ He made a gesture that suggested she was free to leave any time. ‘It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Iphegenia Lautour.’

      He was laughing at her now and not making any real attempt to hide the fact. But that was okay. She’d been laughed at before and this was the warm, teasing kind that didn’t hurt. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if Sophie had misjudged him. He might be a shocking flirt, but he did seem to have the redeeming feature of a well-developed sense of humour…

      ‘Ginny,’ she said, her voice no longer crisp but unusually thick and soft.

      It seemed to go with the tingling in her breasts, a curious weakness in her thighs. He had the most kissable mouth of any man she’d ever met, she decided. Not that she’d met many men she would cross the road to kiss.

      Firm, wide, the lower lip a sensual invitation to help herself…

      She caught her own lower lip between her teeth before she did something truly stupid, cooling it with her tongue.

      ‘People call me Ginny,’ she explained. ‘Usually. It’s shorter.’

      ‘And easier to spell.’ The muscles at the side of his jaw clenched briefly. Then, since she was clearly rooted to the spot, he opened the door and held it wide for her. ‘I’ll keep a look out for Hector, Ginny, and if I find him I’ll be sure to send him home.’

      She was being dismissed. A minute ago she was desperate to escape. Now he was reduced to encouraging her to leave.

      ‘If Mrs Figgis, your cleaner—’ she added in case he wasn’t personally acquainted with the lady who kept his apartment free of dust ‘—doesn’t suck him up in her vacuum cleaner thinking he’s a lump of fluff,’ she said, before she could stop herself. Her urgent desire to flee evaporating the moment a swift exit offered itself.

      ‘Perhaps you’d better warn her,’ he suggested.

      ‘I will. And I’m, um, really sorry for disturbing you.’

      ‘I wouldn’t have—’ he paused, smiled ‘—um…missed it for the world. But now I really must take that shower, so unless you want to come and keep an eye on me, make sure I don’t drown the heroic Hector…’ He stood back, offering her a clear route to his bathroom.

      This time there was no hiding the crimson tide that swept from her neck to her hairline as she finally caught on to what he already knew. That she’d become just one more case of iron filings clinging to his personal magnet.

      ‘No…’ She backed through the door, raising her hand, palm up, in a self-protective little gesture. ‘Really, Mr Mallory, I trust you.’

      ‘Rich,’ he said. ‘People

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