He's My Husband! - Lindsay Armstrong [24]
‘Nicola,’ Brett said, ‘this—’
But she broke in to say quizzically, ‘Could you kiss me, Brett? Oh, never mind, I’ll do it.’ And she stood on tiptoe, wound her arms round his neck and placed her lips on his just as Tara switched on her headlights—and they were bathed in brilliant light.
CHAPTER FOUR
NICOLA chuckled softly as Tara reversed up the drive with a roar, but she didn’t remove her arms.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Brett enquired dryly.
‘Giving as good as I got,’ she replied. ‘There’s only a certain amount of patronage one can take, I’m afraid, and that woman—’
‘Are you saying Tara was being patronising? That’s ridiculous, Nicola.’
Some of her amusement seeped away. ‘Believe me, I’m an expert on the subject. You, for example, patronise me all the time. Just take this very instance. I’m sure you’re about to tell me I’m being childish but—’ she shrugged, and looked mockingly into his eyes ‘—it doesn’t feel childish. It feels rather nice. How about for you?’
‘Nicola,’ he said grimly, ‘before you get too carried away, why the hell would she be patronising you anyway?’
Nicola opened her eyes at him. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t know-you must be blind. She has you firmly in her sights, Brett. Just imagine the lovely discussions you could have about the High Court, the Supreme Court, the Family Court. But I’ll tell you one thing—she wouldn’t be happy to sit home all day for Sasha and Chris.’
He swore. ‘There is no—what is this?’ And he put his hands up to remove hers.
But she linked her fingers stubbornly and went on. ‘As for the lecture you gave me about being discreet the other night, I find it rather ludicrous in light of this. How dare you discuss me with her?’
‘I haven’t—‘
‘She certainly gave me to understand you had.’
‘Nicola, either you’re making this all up or you’re overtired.’
Something went off inside Nicola’s head. ‘Not really,’ she murmured, ‘but I am-since we’re in this position—a little curious. It’s a long time since I kissed a man. Why don’t you help me to brush up my skills, Brett? After all, there are times when you undress me with your eyes—why shouldn’t I assess you on a scale of one to ten? It could even add some of the much-needed maturity you so often tell me I lack.’
And she unlocked her fingers, drew them slowly across his shoulders and down the front of his shirt, then she slid her arms around his waist and laid her cheek on his chest. As she did so she felt all his muscles tighten, and she smiled a secret little smile.
Then she felt him relax deliberately, and heard him drawl, ‘Don’t ever forget you started this, Nicola.’
She hid from him the flash of anger that lit her eyes, and said sweetly, ‘Oh, I won’t.’ And she tilted her face for his kiss.
But although his lips were dry and warm on hers, and his hands moved on her back quite gently, she was tense and stiff, and she made the discovery that to be kissing a man when you were furious with him left you taut with aggression and not sure if you wanted to scratch and bite instead.
He lifted his head. ‘I thought this was supposed to be—well, the opposite to making war, Nicola.’
‘I hate you, if you must know,’ she said through her teeth.
‘That’s a remarkable about-face, but—’ he looked down at her with his lips twisting ‘—if you didn’t go about it like a bull in a china shop—’ he held her more firmly as she stiffened in outrage ‘—these things can be—quite spontaneous.’
‘I can’t imagine how!’
‘Think of it like this, then.’ He brought his fingers beneath her hair and massaged the nape of her neck gently. ‘There are times when the line of a throat, the curve of a cheek—’ he trailed his fingers up her throat and splayed them on her cheek ‘—the sound of a voice, the arrangement of a figure,’ that wandering hand moved downwards with the lightest touch ‘—the curve of a hip and the sweep of a leg...’
He paused, and his hand moved below the short skirt of her dress, and he smiled slightly as her eyes widened. ‘When all of those things