When He Was Bad... by Anne Oliver Page A

for your assistance at the bar tonight.’
    â€˜No worries.’ He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave.
    She hesitated. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’
    He nodded. ‘You’re coming. Good.’
    â€˜I didn’t get the bar job, so yes.’ She shrugged, trying for philosophical, failing miserably.
    â€˜Because it wasn’t the right job for you.’ There was something in his eyes. Not sympathy—she didn’t want sympathy, nor did she need it. Understanding?
    She stood, rooted to the spot, watching him while he jingled his car keys. What the hell would he understand about the tough non-corporate world of low finance?
    â€˜Goodnight, Ellie.’ He touched his lips to hers. A token kiss, almost impersonal. No sexual undertones. Nothing she could call him on.
    And nothing to get herself in a lather about.
    Because now he’d watched her lose a job on the first night and seen where she lived, what other kind of kiss could it be?
    She stepped away before she kissed him back and made it into something it wasn’t. ‘Goodnight.’
    She turned abruptly and made it through the entry door andhalfway along the common hallway before the door behind her opened again. She looked over her shoulder. Matt’s silhouette filled the space and a thrill of excitement shivered down her spine before she could stop it. ‘Is something wrong?’
    â€˜Damn right something’s wrong.’ He stepped inside and walked towards her, his shoes echoing on the worn concrete floor, his features growing clearer as he neared. ‘I should be ashamed of myself. Kissing you that way.’
    Huh? Her mouth fell open in astonishment and she remained where she was, sure her heartbeat would wake the entire building. ‘It’s okay.’ The words trembled out. ‘I didn’t—’
    â€˜Since when do you let a guy kiss you like that and get away with it?’ He gripped her shoulders. Walked her back until her shoulders touched the wall, eyes glittering in the dim stairwell’s light. His face was close, his hands possessive, stroking down her upper arms.
    With what little strength she had left, she hugged her handbag in front of her like a shield. ‘Depends… On who’s doing the kissing.’ Oh, good Lord, had she said that aloud, and in that thin reedy voice that seemed to be coming from someone else?
    His sensuous lips curved and he moved nearer. His jeans brushed against her bare legs. Hard thighs rubbed hers…and heat speared into her lower belly. Her arms slid uselessly to her sides, leaving her bag dangling from one shoulder.
    â€˜I am,’ he murmured before his mouth descended on hers.
    She could no more hold back her response than stop the sun from rising. Her lips fell open beneath his and her whole body shuddered against him. Without any idea of how they got there, her hands slid to his waist and grasped fistfuls of his shirt beneath his jacket.
    His taste was as she remembered, only more. Richer, fuller, more intoxicating—
    â€˜Excuse me, Ellie… Perhaps you could take your displays of…affection upstairs?’
    Ellie jerked back, her head bouncing off the wall. ‘Um, hi. Mrs Green.’ From apartment two. And looking less than impressed that they were all but standing in front of her door. Ducking under Matt’s arm, Ellie spun away into the passage, fumbling with her slippery hold on her bag at the same time. ‘Um. Sorry.’
    Matt and Ellie regarded each other without speaking until her downstairs neighbour’s door closed and they were alone again.
    It gave Ellie time to gather her jumbled thoughts. She considered it a minor miracle that she was able to say, ‘It’s late and I’m tired,’ in a reasonably steady no-nonsense voice. And she meant it. Every muscle felt sapped of energy and she had no idea whether it was Matt’s fault or the bug she seemed to be coming down