Driving Her Crazy by Amy Andrews Page A

the wall, dropped his head, letting the water run over his neck for a while.
    When he finally lifted his head and opened his eyes, the pink thong hanging from the curtain rail was the first thing he saw.
    He turned the cold on full blast.

    Sadie woke to a knock at the door at seven o’clock. She opened her eyes. A tray with empty plates, used cutlery and three beer bottles greeted her and beyond that was Kent. He was curled up in his bed, sound asleep. His face was relaxed, his cheekbones not so pronounced, the creases around his mouth smoothed out, his lips slack and innocent rather than distinct and wicked.
    He looked much, much younger.
    He was still shirtless, the sheet pulled low on his abdomen and twisted around his legs. His right leg from the knee down was exposed and her gaze came to rest on his grossly deformed ankle.
    The knock came again and he stirred.
    Sadie jumped out of bed. ‘Coming,’ she called walking past the still flickering television on her way to the door. She opened it to the woman from last night bearing a smile and a tray.
    ‘Good morning,’ she chirped. ‘Your breakfast.’
    ‘Oh,’ Sadie said, taking the laden tray. ‘Er, thank you.’
    Kent woke to the voices and rolled onto his back. His eyes felt gritty. It had taken another hour of infomercials before he’d finally fallen asleep after his shower, but he was used to having to wake and be instantly ready so he vaulted upright instead.
    Sadie backed into the room, pushing the door shut with her foot, and turned around. She met Kent’s bleary gaze. ‘You ordered this, I assume?’
    He nodded. ‘Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.’ He patted the bed. ‘Put it here.’
    Sadie plonked it where he indicated. She lifted the metallic covering on one of the plates. A full cooked breakfast greeted her—bacon, eggs, sausages, fried onions, tomatoes, and baked beans.
    Her stomach growled at the waft of cooked meat and she started to salivate.
    Her fat cells did too.
    It looked so damn good. But she knew she couldn’t indulge. In just a few shorts days her pants were already looser. And she’d be seeing Leo soon.
    She replaced the lid and picked up one of the pieces of perfectly browned toast. ‘Thanks,’ she said, nibbling at the dry corner.
    Kent scrunched his face as he looked up at her. She was wearing some baggy yoga-style pants to go with her baggy T-shirt. It was the unsexiest get-up he’d seen in his life. But even it didn’t manage to keep the curvy figure beneath in check.
    The curvy figure she was obviously trying to straighten out by depriving it of adequate nutrition. That was it? She was just going to eat one piece of dry toast?
    ‘You don’t want any more?’
    ‘I never eat much breakfast,’ Sadie lied as she bent over slightly and poured herself a cup of tea from the small metal teapot with a leaking lid. ‘Usually just need a cuppa and I’m good.’
    Her gaze flicked to his momentarily but she quickly looked away. She didn’t expect or want him to know about the demons that drove her to this crash diet.
    She doubted a he-man of his ilk would understand.
    Their enforced proximity was bad enough without laying herself totally bare to him.
    Kent watched as she pulled her gaze away and her hair swung back and forth across her shoulders at the activity. It was a tangle of waves this morning. As if she’d spent the night in a wind tunnel.
    ‘And I suppose you’re going to eat nothing but celery and salads again today?’
    Sadie sat cross-legged on her bed, facing the television. A news show was on. ‘Carrots, actually,’ she said primly.
    Kent stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. He was on a road trip with a rabbit. He’d never understood women who obsessed over what they perceived to be every figure flaw and every calorie they shoved in their mouths. He’d dated his share and they were, without exception, boring.
    And Sadie not realising just how gorgeous she looked was nothing short