Thinking about flesh had not been a good move. Her stomach muscles quivered and shifted as images crowded in her head of smooth, sleek skin sheathing tight hard muscles. She had read that pregnancy could kill a girl’s libido stone-dead…it turned out she wasn’t one of this number!
‘It’s a very nice place you have here.’ Did those terminally stupid words come out of my mouth? This really wasn’t how this scene had played in her head.
‘And you just happened to be passing?’
His deadly irony brought a flush to Megan’s pale cheeks.
‘I would have phoned.’
Luc lifted a hand to his dark, wind-ruffled hair. It curled onto his neck. It didn’t look to Megan as though it had been cut since she saw him last. ‘I don’t use a phone for a reason…I don’t like to be disturbed by uninvited guests when I’m working.’
She let her eyes slide over his olive-green waterproof jacket that was open at the neck to reveal a black sweater. Her examination moved lower, over his long legs encased in moleskins, and ended on his walking boots. He looked lean and fit, leaner maybe than the last time she had seen him…
She watched, unwillingly riveted as he lifted a hand to his wind-ruffled hair. His face, too, seemed thinner, with the strong bones and angles seeming more pronounced. His eyes were the same, though…an illicit little shiver ran down her spine as she diverted her gaze to a point over his shoulder.
‘Are you working now?’
‘I’m a writer. Writers are always working,’ Luc lied calmly. He hadn’t written a word since he’d got down here. ‘For me a walk along the beach usually focuses my thoughts nicely.’ Recently they had only been on Megan’s eyes, her smell, her sweet softness…Of course this obsession would pass. The irresponsible part of him suggested he enjoyed it while it lasted. But it was easier to ignore that irresponsible voice when she was three hundred miles away.
Everyone, he told himself, determinedly ignoring the ache in his groin, knew that recognising you had a problem was part of the cure.
And Luc had recognised he had a problem with Megan from day one.
‘Inspiration strikes when you’re least expecting it.’
Like love, Megan thought, and gave a disbelieving sniff. ‘What do you do, carry a notebook and jot things down? No wonder you’ve got so many friends,’ she muttered under her breath.
Did he ever invite any of those selected few, and she was thinking female here, to this place? Did they spend weekends cosily shut away from the world together? What was there to do but walk on the beach and make love? Her hands clenched as she imagined those steamy lovers’ trysts.
‘No need for notes; I have an excellent memory.’
His excellent memory was at that moment recalling the huskiness of her voice as she had called his name and said she’d never have enough of what he was doing to her. Never have enough of him, and begged him…He drew a deep breath and stopped thinking about the liquid heat of her tight around him.
He was obviously an individual who was drawn to unsuitable women; first Grace, and now Megan. Was it genetic…?
A man had to learn by his mistakes and Luc had made this mistake once before. At least last time he’d had extreme youth and rampant hormones to blame. This time around he was old enough and bruised enough by life to be able to know that instant attraction and great sex were not enough. There had to be more.
What that more was he had yet to figure out.
A shocking idea was forming in Megan’s head. My God, had she been part of his research for his latest book? The idea made her feel physically sick. ‘Well, if I ever discover someone who resembles me in one of your books I’ll sue,’ she told him fiercely.
‘I thought you didn’t read my stuff.’
Megan shrugged at the taunt and watched as Luc, one hand braced at the base of his spine, straightened up and rotated his shoulders, as if the position he’d been hunched in had put a few kinks in his spine.
‘Only when my train is late,’ she retorted, grabbing her bag off the passenger seat and preparing to make best use of the fact he wasn’t guarding her exit.
‘Don’t even think about getting out,’ he growled.
Megan stopped dead and lifted her glance to his. Luc’s expression held more hostility than she would have thought possible.
He hates me…She swallowed past the emotional thickening in her throat and lifted her chin. So she hadn’t expected him to open the champagne, but neither had she expected this level of antagonism.
‘I’m going to do more than that,’ she promised him, flashing a smile that ached with insincerity.
Not a single muscle moved in his stony expression. ‘Just turn the car around and go back home, Megan.’ He ran a hand over his jaw, his attitude now more weary than hostile. ‘We have nothing to say.’
That’s all he knows! ‘My God, you’re rude!’
He blinked as he looked into those stunning blue eyes that shone with disgusted condemnation. ‘I’m the rude one?’ he bit back. ‘That’s rich—you’re the one who just turns up on my doorstep uninvited. If you want to take up where we left off you can forget it…I like to make the first move.’ And he would if he let her within ten feet of him; along with common sense, the self-control he was so proud of deserted him around this woman.
Making the first move…now that she remembered. Actually she remembered everything and it made it hard for her to think this close to him.
Luc’s brows knitted in a dark frown as he looked at her.
‘Look, we always seem to be yelling at each other! Megan said, noticing just how tired she was feeling.
‘You were the only one yelling.’
‘I had reason to yell. You lied and cheated your way into my life. Looked down your nose at my family and friends and then accused me of falling in love with you!’ A flush of mortification washed over her skin as she recalled their parting.
She might have been able to forgive him if she hadn’t realised that his diagnosis had been spot on. She had been in love with him.
‘Anyway you had plenty to say then,’ she reminded him grimly. ‘And now it’s my turn, and I didn’t drive all this way to go back without saying it. And if you think for one second that I’m going to turn around just because you say so, then you’re wrong.’
She was aware that Luc was watching her as she got out of the car. His silent scrutiny was partially responsible for her inelegant exit; the rest was down to the intense exhaustion that had hit her like a brick wall. Her brain felt even less nimble than her feet, which was not a good thing considering the importance of what she had come here to tell him.
She lost her balance and almost fell as she stepped away from the car. Saving herself without making use of the steadying hand Luc shot out, Megan tilted her gaze up to his and saw his lips twist in a wry smile as his hand dropped to his side.
He didn’t say anything; he didn’t do anything, except look enigmatic and gorgeous enough to make the average woman weep.
She took a deep breath.
‘I have been driving for hours; my back hurts.’ She grimaced as she pressed her hand to the base of her spine. ‘I need a cup of tea and I need a bathroom, the latter fairly urgently.’
‘I suppose you’d better come in.’
The grudging invitation brought a twisted smile to Megan’s pale lips. ‘How can I resist when you ask so nicely?’ Not resisting Luc was what had got her in this position to begin with.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MEGAN followed Luc inside the cottage, her low-heeled shoes clicking on the flagged floor. The interior layout was a surprise to Megan. The internal dividing walls were gone, creating one large open-plan living area that used up the entire ground-floor space. The original flagged floor had been retained, as had the vast inglenook, but the modern kitchen appliances and stylish Swedish wood burner were very sleek and state-of-the-art.
The heat being thrown out by the wood burner made Megan reach for the scarf that was wrapped around her throat.
‘Bathroom…?’
‘Up there,’ he said, a beat behind.