LITMIR.BIZ

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don’t want or need promises—my life doesn’t work that way.’ Her fingers traced across his chest. ‘Sometimes we just have to take the good things when they come. I’ve just come out of a war zone, you’re leaving on a much-needed holiday and perhaps this thing between us exists so strongly because we both need it. Maybe we each have what the other needs right now, just for today.’

      His body craved hers like the sun-parched desert craved water. ‘Are you totally certain about this? I don’t want to hurt you, Sophie.’

      Faint lines appeared on her forehead. ‘I don’t want to hurt you either.’

      He’d never felt so torn. ‘I’m leaving in an hour.’ Shut up, Dr Jack.

      Her hand cupped his jaw. ‘I know you are and that gives us plenty of time. Consider me your first “holiday treat”.’

      The word ‘holiday’ banished Dr Jack and released Jack the man. He circled her waist with his hands, pulling her hard against him. ‘In that case, consider me your Barragong welcome-basket.’

      She tilted her head back, hooking his burning gaze with one of her own. ‘That works for me, Jack.’

      It was all he needed to hear.

      His lips sought hers again, his mouth playing over the lush softness of her lips, his fingers dragging through the thick tangles of her hair, liberating the aroma of tangerine and more sandalwood. He inhaled deeply, revelling in the way the scent released a sense of freedom in him he’d never known.

      He heard himself sigh and then her mouth opened under his, inviting him in, hauling him in as her tongue met his with the same eager strokes that he was using. He devoured her touch, her taste, her scent, the blissful sounds from her throat, completely oblivious to the heat of the sun until the harsh screech of a flock of birds flying overhead startled her, and she abruptly broke the kiss, her head turning sharply.

      ‘What was that?’ The words tumbled from the sexiest mouth he’d ever encountered.

      ‘Galahs. Get used to the sound, because they’ll wake you at dawn.’ He swung her into his arms and, taking two steps at a time, bounded up to the front door. ‘Time to bring this inside. I’ve no plans to compete with what to you is exotic wildlife.’

      As they passed through into the hall, she swung an arm around his neck, her fingers massaging the back of his head. ‘So you can’t do wild?’

      His groin ached and his hands tightened around her as he kicked opened his bedroom door. ‘Sweetheart, I can do whatever you want me to.’

      She laughed, a sound of pure delight, as he dropped her gently onto his bed. Her hand reached out and clasped around the waistband of his trousers, pulling him forward. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

      Keeping his gaze fixed firmly on her eyes, eyes bright with thundering need, he leaned sideways and reached into a drawer, hoping a stray prophylactic was there because it had been a very long time since he’d had sex in this bed. He almost laughed with relief when his fingers gripped the familiar square foil and he held it up like a well-earned trophy. With the roar of pure, base, untainted lust in his veins he joined her on the bed and opened himself up to the unparalleled ecstasy of holiday sex—casual, no spooning and no strings attached.

      Chapter Three

      SOPHIE dreamed her cheek was being brushed by fine black stubble and soft lips. A blissful sigh rolled through her as she gave herself up to the deepening dream and let it take her to a place filled with a tranquillity and joy unlike anywhere she’d ever known. The scream of rocket fire shattered the serenity and she sat up fast, sweat beading on her brow and her hand tightly clutching the sheet.

      Adrenaline jetted through her, and she frantically glanced around, looking for safety. Double bed, large polished-redwood wardrobe, a wicker laundry-basket and her old blue rucksack. Her brain engaged, her held breath released in a whoosh and everything fell into place.

      Jack’s room. Jack’s house. The roar wasn’t rocket fire at all—just the sound of his motorcycle engine’s ignition and fast acceleration. Jack had just left on his holiday.

      She fell back onto silky-soft, high-thread-count cotton sheets and sprawled out across the bed just because she could, loving the luxury of having a queen-size bed to herself after the narrow confines of camp beds. She breathed in deeply and the fragrance of Jack rushed through her, making her thighs tingle just like he had, and then some.

      The sheets smelled of Jack, her pillow smelled of Jack and she grinned, remembering how he’d generously treated her to a smorgasbord of himself, making sure she was completely replete before he left. Wild, sexy and with a mouth that had touched parts of her that had grown dusty from lack of use, she didn’t regret for one minute letting the goddess loose again and running with the bad boy.

      ‘Bad’ was all she allowed herself these days and Jack Armitage was deliciously bad.

      A memory of Simon surfaced, all anguished eyes and barely contained fury. She shut it out and focussed on Jack. He’d left as promised, gone from her life as planned, which was perfect because, although it had been the best sex she could remember, that was all it was: sex, fun and no looking back. Jack wouldn’t be blaming her for breaking his heart and ruining his life, in fact he wouldn’t even be thinking of her full stop. All he’d be thinking of was the open road.

       That’s what you wanted, right?

      She rolled over and caught the time. Four o’clock. She closed her eyes with a groan and then opened them again. She really needed to get up because if she slept now she’d be awake at three a.m. It was bad enough having to do that on-call, so it was completely crazy to do it if there was no reason. Fighting the tendrils of fatigue, she swung her legs out until her feet touched bare polished boards, the cool feel of them reminding her she had a house to explore, her home for the next three months.

      Apart from Jack’s room, all she’d seen of the house was what she’d noticed when they’d pulled up on the bike and that had been pretty impressive. Made of what she assumed was the local stone—a combination of cream, rust-red and deep yellows—it had an enormous veranda around at least three sides and it said, ‘old, large and full of stories’. It didn’t remotely say, ‘bachelor pad’.

      She padded towards a door and stepped into an en suite bathroom. It was like being in a hotel, with its basket of rolled fluffy-soft towels and a range of soaps, and a far cry from her Frontline accommodation. After a quick shower she was soon stepping into a pair of crumpled shorts and an old T-shirt and crossing Jack’s room to enter the hall.

      With a wide, central corridor, deep skirting-boards, high ceilings and numerous doors opening off from the hall, the old homestead reminded her of the only house of her childhood she had ever bothered to remember: the house in Surrey where life had been happy and the family had all been together. The place where they’d celebrated their last Christmas before their lives had changed irreparably and the fabric of their family had been cruelly ripped apart.

      She started opening doors and found a sitting room with a well-worn but comfy-looking couch, two winged chairs with matching ottomans, a large-screen television and the biggest DVD collection she’d ever seen. It said, ‘home; retreat from the world’ and Sophie smiled in anticipation of catching up on years of missed films. The next room contrasted so dramatically with the sitting room that she gasped. In the centre of a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows which opened onto the veranda was an enormous mahogany dining table complete with sixteen chairs. Two brightly gleaming silver candelabra sat on a large sideboard, hinting at a full set of china and cutlery tucked away behind its carved doors. She felt her brows draw together. Somehow she couldn’t quite match the image of Jack the biker-doctor with the elegant style of entertaining this room absolutely demanded.

      Two doors remained before the house opened up into a modern kitchen and living area and she crossed the hall to investigate. The china door-handle felt cool to her touch as she turned it and the door swung open to reveal a bedroom that obviously belonged

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