Free True Colours (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2) by Mandy Lee Page A

me.  The closer he gets, the more my body seems to sparkle.  ‘Yes, I forgot.  It wasn’t in my car after all.’  He reaches out and skims a finger down my arm, sending a rush of adrenalin right through me.  Fight it, my brain calls out.  He’s bloody well distracting you.
    ‘You lied to me.’
    ‘It got the job done.’  Slipping a hand round my waist, he guides me into his chest and holds me firm.  Shit, he’s smelling good.  Clearly, while I was in the land of nod, he managed to fit in a quick shower.
    ‘And who were you talking to?’
    ‘A private investigator.  The best in the business.’
    ‘But why?’
    ‘Why do you think?’  He watches me for a moment, his face impassive.  ‘I need to know about Boyd.  After Friday night, I want to know everything about him.’
    ‘You scared him off.’
    ‘And I want to make sure he doesn’t come back.’
    ‘He won’t come back.’
    I’m pretty sure of that.  Boyd might have more than just a slight touch of the psychopath about him, but he doesn’t have a death wish.  He’d be a complete idiot to come anywhere near me after his spat with Dan.  Placing my palms flat against his chest, I push away with all the strength I can muster, but I don’t get far.  I’m held tight in his grip.
    ‘Just leave it with me.  No arguments,’ he warns.  ‘It’s going to happen whether you like it or not.’
    The determination etched across his face tells me everything.  I’d better change the subject.
    ‘So, where’s my phone?’ I ask.
    ‘In the cupboard.’
    Nuzzling his mouth against my neck, he kisses a spot just below my ear lobe.
    ‘Which cupboard?’ I gasp, fighting off an attack of quivers.
    ‘That one.’  He nods towards a cupboard next to the fridge.  ‘Just behind the muesli.’ He grins.  ‘I figured toast woman would never go anywhere near a healthy breakfast cereal.’
    After a second fruitless attempt to prise myself free, I give up on the struggle.
    ‘You don’t need it.’  He lowers his face to mine, studying my lips.
    ‘You’re a complete ….’ I get nowhere near the end of my complaint.  Before I know it, his mouth is on mine and I’m absent without leave.  A hand comes to the back of my head, holding me tight while he kisses me, pressing his hard-on against my crotch.
    At last, he pulls away.
    ‘Fucking hell.  You turn me on constantly.’
    I’m about to tell him that he has exactly the same effect on me when a loud growling sound interrupts us.  Releasing me, he takes a step back and glances down at my stomach.
    ‘Somebody’s hungry.  I think we’d better get some food into you.’
    ‘Food can wait.’
    ‘No, it can’t.  Once I get started again, I won’t be able to stop.  And besides, the pasta’s ready.’  He holds up his hands, as if in surrender.  ‘I’m not touching you again until we’ve eaten.’
    Leaving me disappointed, he saunters off to the hob and lifts the lid on a pan.  Whatever it is, it smells divine.
    ‘Five minutes,’ he calls, lifting the lid on a second pan.
    More than enough time to check my mobile.  I head straight for the cupboard, push aside the muesli, and there it is.  Grabbing my phone and leaving the cupboard door open, I settle onto a stool and check for messages.  Three from my mum, along with a handful of missed calls.  And a text from Sara.  I open it up.
    Are you OK? x
    With a sigh, I look up, catching a momentary glimpse of life with Daniel Foster.  Quietly humming to himself, he’s busy stirring the contents of a pan.  Places have already been set at the granite bar: plates, cutlery, two empty glasses and a bottle of red wine, uncorked and breathing.  Another plate sits at the centre of the counter, complete with a focaccia loaf.  I’m smiling now because I really could get used to this.  Tearing myself out of idiot mode, I text back.
    I’m fine.  Back with Dan.  Tell Mum for me.  See you soon. x
    ‘Anything interesting?’ he