Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [92]
But he had other things on his mind right now. Like how much longer he could reasonably be expected to fend off Miranda, when she was launching herself at him with all the subtlety of a Scud missile.
`Or was that your best effort?' she was saying now, wagging her finger infuriatingly and sounding like a sarcastic schoolmistress. `Maybe it was, and you're just a really hopeless kisser.'
Right. Goaded beyond endurance, Danny took her in his arms and gave her what she wanted. Within seconds she was sighing and writhing helplessly against him like an ecstatic kitten. Equally abruptly, he pulled away.
Hopeless kisser indeed.
`Wow,' gasped Miranda, panting for breath. `That was more like it.'
Danny acknowledged the compliment with a brief nod. Even if it was coming from someone who was howling drunk.
`Thanks.'
`I love you.' The wine was well and truly lodged in her bloodstream now. She could say anything, anything… `Miranda, don't.'
`But I do love you!'
`You do not.' Christ, did she think this was easy for him?
`The house is empty.' She trailed her fingers enticingly across the front of his shirt, still damp where she had sobbed
all over him. `Shall we go in?' 'Why?'
Miranda rolled her eyes at his stupidity.
`We could go to bed.'
Don't do this, thought Danny.
'Why?'
`Well, the general idea would be to have sex.' She gave him a playful thump on the arm. `And then maybe a little sleep, then something to eat, followed - with a bit of luck - by more sex. How does that sound to you?'
For heaven's sake, how did she think it sounded? `What happened to that pledge of eternal celibacy?' Miranda looked appalled.
`Oh no, I've changed my mind about that completely.' Give me strength, Danny pleaded silently. Aloud, he said, `Not a good idea.'
He was shaking his head. Miranda stared at him.
`Come on, it's a brilliant idea! Why can't we? Stop shaking your head like that and tell me why we can't!'
`Because,' Danny said slowly, `you've had far too much to drink. And you'd only regret it in the morning.' `I would not regret it,' Miranda wailed.
`You would.'
`Why, because you're rubbish in bed? Is that it?' Perking up, she recalled that this was the technique that had worked so brilliantly just a couple of minutes earlier. `Why would I regret it, Danny? Because you're even more useless at sex than you are at kissing?'
Bugger, he was smiling at her. It wasn't going to work. `Possibly,' said Danny.
`But I want to have sex with you!' Miranda thumped the steering wheel for emphasis.
`Not with me,' said Danny quietly, aware that the chap in the turquoise cagoule had posted his letter and was shuffling back towards them. `Right now, anyone would do. You're just trying to punish Greg for hurting you. And prove to yourself that you're over him.'
Ouch.
`Well, so what if I am?' Miranda pleaded. `Isn't that a good enough reason?'
`Sweetheart, it's a terrible reason.'
`You're no fun.' She clung to him, her empty stomach emitting a terrific rumble.
Shuffle, shuffle. The man in the hooded cagoule moved slowly past the car.
`Come on, I'll make you a bacon sandwich.' Patting her arm, Danny opened the door.
`Give me another kiss first. I'm miserable.'
He did, exerting superhuman control.
`We could eat them in bed,' Miranda suggested hopefully.
`I'm only coming in because I don't trust you not to set fire to the kitchen,' Danny told her. `As soon as you've finished your sandwich, I'll be off.'
Back in his car once more, Bruce watched the two of them disappear together into the empty house. Miranda's head leaned on Orlando's shoulder and his arm was around her waist. It was obvious what they were up to.
Damn, what he wouldn't give for a camera now. Still, he would make Florence believe him when he told her what he'd both seen and heard.
Bruce smiled to himself with satisfaction. Excellent. And thanks to that little tart Miranda doing Chloe's job for her, he'd saved himself five grand.
The party at the Salinger Hotel broke up a couple