Jack couldn’t fathom. If his reputation was largely fabricated, there was every chance hers was too. Despite what he’d heard, Imogen certainly didn’t come across as shallow and vacuous. She came across as spiky, fearless and utterly intriguing.
So if her reputation was as fabricated as his, there wasn’t anything stopping him from suggesting dinner again. Nothing to stop him persuading her to acknowledge the attraction that sizzled between them and nothing to stop them pursuing it.
Nothing, that was, apart from the weird warning flag that was waving frantically in his brain. The one that had takenup residence the minute the words ‘ this one’ had popped into his head when he’d first shaken her hand and was now insisting on being noticed. The one that had his blood chilling and his stomach clutching with something that felt suspiciously like panic.
Not that he ever suffered from panic, of course. No. On reflection, that odd sensation was undoubtedly hunger. But still …
Jack cleared his throat and drew back a little. It would probably be an idea to bring this whole evening to a close. He’d found out what Imogen’s problem was, and had rectified it. He’d done what he’d set out to do and there was no need to stick around. In fact, he should get out. Now. While the taxi was stationary at the lights.
‘OK,’ he said with a firmness designed to convince himself as much as her. ‘Is that it? Are we done with the accusations?’
She nodded.
‘Sure?’
She nodded again.
‘Then I’ll say goodnight.’
And before he could change his mind, he whipped his hand from her mouth, opened the door and leapt out.
CHAPTER FIVE
T HAT Jack had got out of the taxi when he had was a good thing, Imogen told herself, pummelling her pillow into shape a few hours later, then flinging herself back and staring up at the ceiling. Definitely a good thing.
Because if he hadn’t …
As the scene in the taxi slammed into her head all over again, she shivered beneath the thick duvet and threw her arms over her head in frustration. What might have happened if he hadn’t was precisely what she’d been trying not to think about all evening. And failing miserably.
Not that that was any surprise. She could still feel the imprint of his hand clamped over her mouth. Her lips still tingled. Her skin still burned. She could still remember how dizzy with desire she’d been at the intoxicating nearness of him. Desire that had been whipping through her long before he’d leaned forwards and touched her, and still was.
The moment she’d got home, she’d decided she might as well try to get on with the things she’d planned. She’d poured herself a glass of wine and run herself a bath, but neither had had the intended effect. The wine had tasted like acid in her mouth and the bath had merely heightened the buzzing in her body to such a degree that not even the bubbles could disguise the effects of the lingering traces of desire.
And as for daydreaming about life in the States, well, thathad been utterly pointless. Every time she told herself to concentrate on what might happen if she was really lucky and they accepted her, she’d found herself fantasising about Jack instead.
It hadn’t helped that her brain kept rehashing the latter part of their encounter, starting with the minute she’d brought up the whole greatsexguaranteed thing. Of all the places she could have begun … Imogen let out a soft wail and threw one arm across her eyes. Who knew what he must have made of that ?
Naturally, once she’d mentioned it, it was all she’d been able to think about. Great sex. With Jack. Guaranteed. Even when she’d been calling him arrogant and cold and callous she’d been going so hot and tingly that she’d wanted nothing more than to hurl herself onto his lap and ravish him.
Once he’d covered her mouth she’d tried to concentrate on all those questions, all those very valid points of his, but his voice had been so soft and so low that
So if her reputation was as fabricated as his, there wasn’t anything stopping him from suggesting dinner again. Nothing to stop him persuading her to acknowledge the attraction that sizzled between them and nothing to stop them pursuing it.
Nothing, that was, apart from the weird warning flag that was waving frantically in his brain. The one that had takenup residence the minute the words ‘ this one’ had popped into his head when he’d first shaken her hand and was now insisting on being noticed. The one that had his blood chilling and his stomach clutching with something that felt suspiciously like panic.
Not that he ever suffered from panic, of course. No. On reflection, that odd sensation was undoubtedly hunger. But still …
Jack cleared his throat and drew back a little. It would probably be an idea to bring this whole evening to a close. He’d found out what Imogen’s problem was, and had rectified it. He’d done what he’d set out to do and there was no need to stick around. In fact, he should get out. Now. While the taxi was stationary at the lights.
‘OK,’ he said with a firmness designed to convince himself as much as her. ‘Is that it? Are we done with the accusations?’
She nodded.
‘Sure?’
She nodded again.
‘Then I’ll say goodnight.’
And before he could change his mind, he whipped his hand from her mouth, opened the door and leapt out.
CHAPTER FIVE
T HAT Jack had got out of the taxi when he had was a good thing, Imogen told herself, pummelling her pillow into shape a few hours later, then flinging herself back and staring up at the ceiling. Definitely a good thing.
Because if he hadn’t …
As the scene in the taxi slammed into her head all over again, she shivered beneath the thick duvet and threw her arms over her head in frustration. What might have happened if he hadn’t was precisely what she’d been trying not to think about all evening. And failing miserably.
Not that that was any surprise. She could still feel the imprint of his hand clamped over her mouth. Her lips still tingled. Her skin still burned. She could still remember how dizzy with desire she’d been at the intoxicating nearness of him. Desire that had been whipping through her long before he’d leaned forwards and touched her, and still was.
The moment she’d got home, she’d decided she might as well try to get on with the things she’d planned. She’d poured herself a glass of wine and run herself a bath, but neither had had the intended effect. The wine had tasted like acid in her mouth and the bath had merely heightened the buzzing in her body to such a degree that not even the bubbles could disguise the effects of the lingering traces of desire.
And as for daydreaming about life in the States, well, thathad been utterly pointless. Every time she told herself to concentrate on what might happen if she was really lucky and they accepted her, she’d found herself fantasising about Jack instead.
It hadn’t helped that her brain kept rehashing the latter part of their encounter, starting with the minute she’d brought up the whole greatsexguaranteed thing. Of all the places she could have begun … Imogen let out a soft wail and threw one arm across her eyes. Who knew what he must have made of that ?
Naturally, once she’d mentioned it, it was all she’d been able to think about. Great sex. With Jack. Guaranteed. Even when she’d been calling him arrogant and cold and callous she’d been going so hot and tingly that she’d wanted nothing more than to hurl herself onto his lap and ravish him.
Once he’d covered her mouth she’d tried to concentrate on all those questions, all those very valid points of his, but his voice had been so soft and so low that
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