‘Your stalker?’
‘I suppose you read about that.’
‘No, your mother mentioned something about it and I’ve seen the scar, remember?’ she added huskily. Her fingertips tingled as she recalled running her fingers along the ridge of scar tissue that stood out pale against his smooth dark skin. Shocking, sensual heat washed over her until she was engulfed from head to toe.
Their eyes touched and locked. ‘I remember.’
A soft, sibilant hiss issued from his lips at the same moment a deep shudder rippled through her body. The sexual tension fed on the electricity that passed between them and became a palpable presence in the room.
Scarlet knew that a gigantic black hole had opened up at her feet and, God, did she want to step into it! Every fibre in her body told her to let go, what the hell? How could this be wrong when it felt so good? From somewhere she dredged up the will-power to cling to the fragments of her self-control.#p#????#e#
‘It must have been a terrible experience.’ Her voice sounded high and brittle to her own critical ears. ‘Is she…the woman…?’
‘In a psychiatric unit, but making good progress by all accounts. Hopefully she’ll be well enough to be released later this year.’
Despite her best intentions this comment brought Scarlet’s attention back to his face. If it weren’t for the thin line of feverish colour that focused the eye on his high cheekbones she might have thought she had imagined that moment of mutual lust. Now she knew that she hadn’t imagined anything—his desire was still there, raw and dangerous…but, worse still, deeply exciting.
Dear God, girl, show a bit of control.
‘I don’t think I’d be hoping for that in your shoes,’ she admitted huskily. The knowledge that give or take a few inches he could have died at the hands of the crazy woman sent a chill through her.
‘She was sick, people get sick…’
‘But she nearly—’
‘But she didn’t,’ he cut in firmly. ‘If we spent our lives worrying about what could have happened we’d never get out of bed in the morning.’
‘If we did come with you when we came back the press would still be waiting?’
Roman nodded.
‘Wouldn’t it be better to get it all over with rather than postpone the inevitable?’ The look she directed up at him did not contain the same bold fearlessness of her suggestion.
‘You seem pretty adept at avoiding the inevitable,’ Roman observed drily. He watched the give-away warm colour bloom on her pale cheeks and smiled.
‘Please try and concentrate,’ she rebuked.
‘It’s very hard when you’re standing there looking so luscious.’
His voice might have contained a teasing note but there was nothing light-hearted about the raw, needy expression in the eyes that moved in a compulsive fashion over her slender body.
‘Don’t be silly!’ Scarlet found it incredible that someone who had escorted some of the most glamorous women in the country could look at her wearing her oldest jeans and a washed out tee shirt, with no make-up and her hair tied back in a pony-tail, and feel desire.
While her brain told her that it was impossible for him to feel that way about her, her eyes told her differently. Her body—well, actually her body had an agenda of its own. Her body wanted to get as close as possible to this man.
God knew where it came from, but somehow she found the strength not to throw herself at him.
‘I need you to be serious for a moment.’
An expression of regret formed on Roman’s face as he examined her pale features. She was trying to put a brave face on it in a typically Scarlet way.
He would have given a lot to offer the reassurance she was obviously seeking from him. It frustrated the hell out of him that the matter had been taken out of his hands, but he knew that he would be doing her no favours if he pretended the problem was going to go away.
‘I mean, obviously I’m not going to go out of my way to provide photo opportunities for these people, but isn’t it a cop-out to put your life on hold because of a couple of men with cameras?’
‘It’s not going to be a couple of men with cameras,’ he told her as gently as he could. ‘There are going to be a horde of them, a siege. Journos are going to be phoning you offering you money for a chance to tell your side of the story, shoving notes under your front door when you don’t answer…’
Scarlet listened to him, growing paler and paler. She held up her hand. ‘Don’t!’ she pleaded. Her lower lip wobbled as a sob rose in her throat. ‘Why is this happening?’ she wailed. ‘It’s not fair.’ A sigh shuddered through her as Roman’s arms drew her against him and then closed around her.