Free Her Man with Iceberg Eyes by Kris Pearson Page B

you had nothing to prevent you staying here.”
    “No, they’re doing some mid-winter pool
maintenance, so it’s fine.”
    “You’re sure?”
    Kate turned further toward him in
exasperation. “It’s absolutely fine. No classes.” She inspected his
impressive shoulders, and couldn’t help imagining the rest of him.
“Were you ever a swimmer?”
    He raised a watery hand. “Swam like a
fish.”
    “We lived in the water,” Hamish said. “Our
father had several postings up in the Pacific Islands. It was a
great life for kids.”
    “I hated being sent back to New Zealand for
school later on,” Matthew added.
    “You took it harder than me. But it should
have been easier for you—I was already here.”
    “Four years older—that’s a vast gap at the
ages we were. You had your own life by the time I arrived.”
    Suddenly Kate saw him in a different light.
Had he been lonely as a teenager? Surely his innate confidence and
bantering charm would have got him through anything?
    “Me being older was the best thing that could
have happened to you,” Hamish said with certainty. “You lost
yourself in those computers. Jumped the queue. Got so far ahead of
everyone else, it set you up for life.”
    Matthew grinned wryly at his brother. “It’s
okay looking back from here,” he said. “Not so much fun at the
time. Too much, too soon.” He turned to Kate. “I was good at tennis
though. Grew tall very fast. Had long arms—very handy.”
    “Spider-man,” Hamish added, and they all
laughed.
    “What about you, Diana?” Kate asked.
    Diana closed her eyes and leaned back against
the edge of the pool. “I’m a country girl—mad on horses. Pony Club
gymkhanas...Hunt Club...would have loved to be a jockey actually,
which horrified my mother.”
    “But your brother had a friend who was
irresistible,” Hamish suggested.
    “I didn’t think you were all that great to
start with,” she teased.
    “I grew on you,” he said complacently.
    “Like a rash,” she agreed. She gave him a
fond kiss on his nearest cheek and pushed herself up out of the
water. “That’s enough for me—I’m turning into a prune,” she said,
inspecting her hands. Kate rose up as well, and the water poured
down her legs in silvery streams. The air in the room was now
bitingly cold. She shivered and folded her arms across her
breasts.
    Matthew surged up and reached for the big
soft spa towels on a nearby shelf. He tossed one to Diana, but
shook the other out and wrapped it around Kate, pinning her arms to
her body as she stood in the water, suddenly far too close to his
gleaming shoulders and chest.
    “Can’t have our tropical flower catching
cold,” he said, rubbing her back and arms through the towel. The
hand against her back started making slower and slower circles.
    Her breath caught in her throat. What if
there was no towel? If his strong, long-fingered hand was sliding
against her bare skin? She wrenched herself away, regretful and
desperate, emotions once again in turmoil. Stepping from the pool,
she struggled out of the towel so she could mop at her legs, and
fled.
    Too late, she realised her clothes and
jewellery were still in the changing room. She’d collect them in
the morning. The thought of running into him again in the darkened
hallway was too much to contemplate.
    She crouched behind her closed door, pulses
racing, as she rubbed the towel more thoroughly down her legs.
She’d given herself only the most perfunctory rub-down in the
spa-room—just enough to save the floor from a trail of water.
    She’d totally ignored Matthew, calling back a
collective goodnight as she bolted away from them all...from
him...of course from him. And his glorious shoulders. And his
clever hands. And his compelling icy eyes.
    She expelled her breath in a frustrated rush. What was she going to do?
    She crossed the dense carpet to the en suite
bathroom and peeled the swimsuit off. Her bed lay piled with all
the new clothes he’d bought her.