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His Darling Valentine Page 6
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Ross looked at the red rose she held out to him, and then up into her face.
A face rapidly suffusing with embarrassment. What had possessed her? What was Ross going to think—?
‘Thank you.’ He reached out to take the rose gently from her grasp before leaning forward and kissing her lightly on the lips.
Tazzy’s lips tingled from his touch, her own gaze completely mesmerized by the gold flecks in the brown of his eyes. Had Ross really just kissed her…?
‘I think we can do better than that, don’t you?’ he murmured huskily, bending his head to claim her lips once more, his arms moving about her as he moulded her softness against him.
She had to be dreaming! Ross couldn’t really be kissing her!
But he was. And not just kissing her. But touching her too, his hands moving caressingly across her back.
If she had been standing her knees would have buckled. As it was she just melted against him, melted into him, her arms moving up about his neck as her hands became enmeshed in the darkness of his hair, the red rose crushed between them, forgotten.
His mouth moved searchingly against hers, seeking a response—and receiving it as Tazzy’s lips parted beneath his to welcome the kiss.
She had dreamed for months of having Ross kiss her like this, of being able to kiss him; she never wanted this moment to end!
Her spine arched as his caressing hand moved lightly over the firmness of her waist and up to her pouting breast, the nipple hardening against the palm of his hand as he cupped her there, Tazzy groaning low in her throat at the sheer pleasure of having Ross make love to her.
Ross deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking, and finding, the warmth of her mouth, and all the time his hand caressed the pertness of her breast.
Tazzy felt as if she were on fire, the heat pulsing through her body until she hungered for something more, something that was as yet elusive, but that Ross’s kisses and caresses promised to fulfil.
He felt so good, so hard and muscular as he crushed her against his chest, only the two of them existing at that moment, no one else—
‘Hey, guv’nor!’ The call was accompanied by a sharp rap on the car window.
The two of them sprang apart as if they had been struck by lightning, Ross giving Tazzy’s blazing face a quick look of apology before he turned sharply in the direction of that intrusive voice, opening the car door to get out to talk to the man who stood there.
Giving Tazzy time to gather her scattered wits together!
What on earth had they been doing? What did she think she had been doing?
She should never have allowed their kisses to deepen into such passion, should have called a halt after that first brief touch of their lips. Instead of which, she had given in to the sheer need she had to experience Ross’s kisses and caresses.
She had never felt so—so awkwardly uncomfortable in her life!
Not only had they been interrupted by a third person, but how could she and Ross possibly expect to carry on working together after what had just happened between them?
She wasn’t sure they could…
Tazzy took a deep breath, tidying the tangles from her hair, giving a regretful glance at the crushed rose, before climbing out of her side of the car to look across at the two men as they talked together.
‘Sorry about that, love.’ It was the same delivery man who had brought her the box of chocolates earlier this morning. ‘I have instructions to deliver this—’ he held up a Cellophane-wrapped teddy bear ‘—at four o’clock today.’
Not another one! was Tazzy’s first thought. She would like to tell her mystery admirer to take his teddy bear and—
‘Thanks.’ Ross impatiently took the bear from the other man. ‘I trust you won’t be delivering anything else here today?’ he added icily.
The man eyed him warily. ‘Not here, guv, no.’
‘Good,’ Ross said with obvious satisfaction.
‘Er—I was told to give that—’ he pointed to the bear in Ross’s arms ‘—to the young lady.’
Ross moved around to Tazzy’s side of the car in two strides, thrusting the bear into her arms. ‘There,’ he told the other man irritably, his expression grim. ‘Satisfied?’
‘Er—yes. It’s only—’ The delivery man looked undecided for a moment. ‘Never mind.’ He shook his head, his smile more of a grimace as he turned away.
‘Thanks,’ Tazzy called after him lamely as he climbed back into his van.
‘You’re welcome,’ he told her ruefully before hastily slamming the door and driving away.
Leaving Ross and Tazzy—still clutching the Cellophane-wrapped bear against her breasts!—standing on the driveway…
Ross drew in a harsh breath. ‘I shall be glad when today is over!’ he snarled before striding across the gravel to let himself in by the front door.
Tazzy slowly followed him into the house, totally miserable now, unsure even what to say to Ross. What could she say to him after what had just happened in the car? It was a mistake. Let’s just forget it. It had been a mistake. But she doubted that either of them would just be able to forget it had ever happened!
Ross was standing in her office when she entered a few seconds later, and it was difficult, with the irritation still evident on his face, to relate him to the man who had just kissed her with such passion.
‘Aren’t you going to open that?’ he growled, nodding in the direction of the bear she still clasped protectively against her.
‘I can already see what it is,’ she replied, placing the unwrapped bear on her desktop.
A beautiful honey-coloured bear, at least two feet in height, clasping a bright red heart, with the words ‘I love you’ emblazoned across it in gold letters. There was also a white card attached to the red ribbon that secured the Cellophane at the top of the bear’s head, but at the moment Tazzy was loath to read it. For obvious reasons!
Ross eyed the bear frowningly. ‘Someone seems intent on wearing down your defences,’ he muttered at last.
Couldn’t he see? She didn’t care about the bear, or the roses, the chocolates, or the necklace—the jury was still out on Shadow! But at the moment all she really cared about was what had happened between the two of them outside in the car.
‘Someone who’s too cowardly to even identify themselves,’ she dismissed without interest.
Ross looked at her, dark brows raised. ‘It seems like a deliberate, and sustained, plan of action to me,’ he said.
‘It seems like a nuisance to me!’ she returned heatedly. ‘Ross, about what happened just now—’
‘What does it say on the card this time?’ He moved to turn the white card over. “‘With great affection, and much love,”’ he read evenly before turning back to look at her. ‘You have to give him marks for consistency, surely?’ he drawled.
‘After the fiasco earlier in the restaurant, I think he wants shooting!’ she muttered impatiently.
Ross shrugged, sitting on the side of her desk. ‘Like you, I’m starting to see the funny side of that now.’ He grinned.
Tazzy’s heart seemed to stop beating at the charm of that grin, her breath catching in her throat as she found herself once again mesmerized just looking at him.
Ross shook his head. ‘I’m sure that whoever he is he can’t have known how ridiculous that supposed declaration of love was going to be!’
It had been ridiculous, she had said as much herself at the time. And yet a part of her now bristled resentfully at Ross’s mockery.
Did he find it funny that another man found her attractive, to the point where he believed himself in love with her? Was that the reason he had kissed her himself, to see what all the fuss was about?
One thing she knew for certain: it was perfectly obvious from Ross’s behaviour, since they had entered the house, that he was not about to discuss what had happened between the two of them in the car a few short minutes ago. In fact, he had done everything he could to avoid the subject!
&nbs
p; She gave a weary sigh, knowing she needed some time to herself to decide what she was going to do about the situation. It didn’t matter how much Ross might try to pretend those kisses they had shared had never happened. They had happened, and Tazzy needed time to think. Alone. In peace and quiet.
‘Ross, I have a bit of a headache,’ she told him with a frown. ‘It’s probably the champagne,’ she attempted to fib—when in reality the relaxing effects of the champagne had worn off the moment Ross had begun to kiss her. ‘Would you mind if I went home early?’
‘Not at all.’ He stood up, his expression one of concern as he looked at her. ‘Would you like me to get you something to take for it before you go?’
‘No, thanks.’ She turned away to pick up her handbag.
‘Sure?’ Ross probed worriedly. ‘It isn’t like you to have a headache, Tazzy.’
It wasn’t like her to make a complete idiot of herself by so obviously falling into his arms, either—but she seemed to have done that today too!
‘It won’t last for long,’ she assured him hopefully—in fact, her temples had begun to throb in earnest now.
‘Lie down in a dark room for half an hour or so,’ Ross advised.
She wanted to bury herself completely in a dark room—for the rest of her life! Anything to avoid having to come into the office in the morning and face Ross as if nothing had happened.
‘I’ll bring these out to the car for you,’ Ross said, beginning to collect up the gifts she had received throughout the day.
Tazzy opened her mouth to tell him to leave them, and then changed her mind. It might have been these gifts that had sparked off this awkwardness she now felt between herself and Ross, but having them sitting here waiting for her when she came back to work tomorrow would not help the situation.
‘Thanks. I—I’ll work later tomorrow evening to make up for it,’ she offered.
‘No need,’ Ross refused lightly, the chocolates and teddy bear held firmly in his arms. ‘What do you want to do about the roses?’ He looked pointedly at the huge vaseful of dark red blooms.
Throw them away! Destroy them! Crush them, like the one they had left abandoned in the car!
‘Just leave them,’ she told him wearily, sure that she must have had worse days than this—she just couldn’t think of any for the moment! ‘I—I’ll see to them tomorrow.’
She just wanted to leave now, to run away and lick her wounds—to build back her defences so that she could face Ross in the morning!
Ross walked out to her car with her, putting her gifts in the boot before walking round to where she already sat in the driver’s seat. ‘I’ll give you a ring later to see how you are,’ he suggested, smiling his sympathy at her.
She didn’t want his sympathy! She wanted—wanted—
‘There’s no need,’ she assured him dully.
‘I’ll call anyway,’ he insisted, reaching out to gently touch one of her cheeks. ‘You are looking a little pale.’
Tazzy flinched away from his touch; she was feeling too vulnerable, her emotions too exposed, to be able to cope with Ross’s gentle concern.
‘I’ll take your advice and lie down,’ she bit out abruptly, firmly closing the car door before he could say anything else, not even glancing his way again as she drove away from the house.
She could breathe easier once she was well away from Ross, her head already starting to clear, her thoughts taking on a semblance of order now that she could look back on the situation logically.
A consequence of Valentine’s Day, was what she told herself about the kisses she and Ross had shared. They had been surrounded by love tokens and love messages all day, and Pierre/Peter hadn’t helped, with his flirtatious behaviour and his constant hints that she was Ross’s lady-love.
No, by tomorrow, with the madness of today firmly behind them, everything would look normal again.
Whatever normal was!
CHAPTER EIGHT
TAZZY stared at the man as he stood on her doorstep, sure that she must have fallen asleep as she lay on her bed, and was now caught up in some sort of nightmare.
The delivery man gave a sheepish smile. ‘I only said I wasn’t delivering anything to you at that particular house anymore today,’ he pointed out. ‘I didn’t say anything about this house!’ He held out a large flat package to her, a red ribbon tied decoratively about it.
A package Tazzy made no effort to relieve him of. This simply could not be happening! She would wake up in a minute. And when she did maybe she would find that the whole day had been some sort of horrible dream!
‘Go on, love, take it,’ the delivery man encouraged. ‘It’s my last delivery of the day. And I have a wife of my own who expects me to take her out tonight and wine and dine her!’ he added with a roguish chuckle.
Tazzy blinked in confusion, at the same time coming to the sorrowful conclusion that she was awake after all. ‘Who—?’ She cleared her throat, moistening her lips before attempting to speak again. ‘Who’s been sending me these things all day?’ she asked hopefully.
He gave her a knowing wink. ‘You should know that better than me, love.’
‘But I don’t.’ She shook her head dazedly.
‘Give it a little thought, love,’ he advised in a brotherly way. ‘I’m sure it will come to you.’
And she was equally sure that it wouldn’t!
When she’d arrived home a couple of hours ago she had gone over and over in her head all the men she had even come into brief contact with during the last year, finally coming to the conclusion that it certainly wasn’t any of them who were showering her with these gifts.
She frowned at the package the delivery man held. ‘This definitely is the last thing you’re going to deliver to me today?’ She wanted confirmation of that, at least, before she took the ribbon-wrapped package from him.
‘Definitely the last, love.’ He nodded happily. ‘But with any luck, the man himself will turn up before the evening is over!’
Her eyes widened. ‘Do you think so?’ It was a thought that had never even occurred to her.
‘I would have thought it was a pretty safe bet.’ The man grinned. ‘So, if I were you, I would change into my prettiest outfit and just wait and see.’ He pointedly eyed the faded denims and baggy green jumper she had changed into when she’d come in from work.
‘Right,’ she murmured distractedly, taking the package from him.
Oh, she would be waiting for the man, all right, she might even let him explain himself too—before she hit him over the head with the box she now held in her hands!
Whoever he was, he had caused her more than enough trouble today, to the point where she wasn’t even sure her working relationship with Ross—let alone anything else!—was salvageable.
‘Thanks,’ she added belatedly.
‘You’re more than welcome,’ he told her warmly. ‘I hope you have a good evening.’
‘You too.’ She smiled, returning his cheerful wave a few seconds later as he drove away.
Well, it wasn’t his fault, for goodness’ sake, he was just the middleman!
Tazzy slowly closed the door before carrying the package through to the kitchen, placing it on top of the table. ‘What do you think, Shadow?’ She looked down at the kitten as it rubbed against her denim-clad legs. ‘Shall I open it first, or just hit him with it if he does dare to turn up on my doorstep? Hmm—’ she nodded ‘—that’s what I think too.’ She didn’t hesitate anymore but began to untie the red ribbon, standing back with a gasp seconds later as the contents of the box were revealed to her.
Unbelievable!
Unacceptable!
Beautiful…!
Tazzy had lifted the lid of the box to find pink tissue paper, had carefully folded back the tissue paper, to reveal the most beautiful white silk and lace nightgown she had ever seen in her life!
How dared he? had come her immediate thought. Quickly followed by a totally feminine response to something so beautiful: a need to ju
st touch the gown!
She reached into the box now with shaking hands, lifting up the white silk to let it fall down in all its glory.
It really was the most beautiful thing Tazzy had ever seen, let alone touched, the straps and cups made of pure white lace, the knee-length gown shaped in white silk.
A white card had fallen from between its delicate folds, and Tazzy gently replaced the frothy silk in the box before bending to pick it up. ‘Eight o’clock this evening?’ the card read.
Tazzy glanced at the silk nightgown, and then back at the card, a deep frown furrowing her brow. If he meant what she thought he meant—!
Who did this man think he was? More to the point, what did he think she was? If the implication of the silk gown, and its accompanying message, was anything to go by—!
‘Right,’ she snapped, folding the tissue firmly back over the nightgown before slamming the lid back on the box. ‘Eight o’clock, is it?’ she muttered angrily. ‘We’ll see about that!’
Her headache was certainly forgotten as she sat down at the kitchen table to wait for her so-called mystery admirer, but her head was buzzing with indignation as she constantly glanced at the array of presents she had placed on the table before her: the box of chocolates, the beautiful gold-heart necklace, the still-Cellophane-wrapped teddy bear, the box containing the silk and lace nightgown. And of course there had been the dozens of red roses and that dreadful love-o-gram.
Tazzy’s frown deepened as something—she wasn’t quite sure what—kept niggling away at the edge of her brain, something that had been said to her today that for some reason she knew was significant. But what was it? And who had said it?
No matter how hard she tried—and she tried very hard!—she just couldn’t bring the memory back into focus. Which wasn’t surprising, after the day she had just had!
But it was important. She was sure that it was. Was sure that—
Her head went up sharply as the front doorbell rang, a quick glance at her wrist-watch showing her it was still only seven forty-five. He was early! Whoever he was.