Free One Stolen Kiss by Lauren Boutain Page A

quite eclectic,” she murmured.
    “ If I see something I like,” he shrugged, “it doesn’t have to match.”
    He led the way into a cosy sitting-room with dark red walls and a huge plasma screen, and dropped both of their bags onto one of the soft leather sofas. The far wall was just bookshelves, crammed with books, magazines, document files, DVDs and even CDs.
    “My father’s old filing system,” he said, waving a hand at the monolith. “The den was his study before. Very much the same as it was when he was alive, except more vertical.”
    “ You keep everything?” she remarked.
    “ Everything that was his. It’s not as if it’s in the way.” He picked at a few magazine spines idly. “It gives me insight. One of his favourite films, look – Yakuza , with Robert Mitchum. All about honour and loyalty. And love. Making the past right in the present.”
    He turned around to look at her, and she felt as though the air itself around her started to tingle.
    “Sit down,” he said. “We’ll just chill out in here for a bit.”
    She peeled off her jacket, and he reached down the remote to turn on the TV, wincing as a chart music station blared on. Images of hotties in hot-pants in hot-tubs filled the screen.
    “Party room last night,” he muttered accusingly, and selected a comedy channel instead, turning the volume down some. “Is this okay for you? Or do you want to see the news?”
    “ This is fine – thank you.”
    Christie sank into the sofa facing the screen, so comfortable after the plane and the car that it was like sitting on a cloud. Adrik unbuttoned the plaid shirt he wore and pulled it off from over the No Fear tee, tossing it on top of their bags on the other sofa before collapsing into the seat beside her. The sudden displacement of air in the cushions nearly bounced her off again over the armrest at the far end.
    “Sorry,” he snorted, stifling a laugh. “Exhausted – I’m not used to anyone sitting there.”
    “ That’s all right.” Christie resettled herself gingerly.
    He unlaced his boots and kicked them off.
    “My turn to put my feet up,” he said, and pivoted in the seat. Instead of resting his feet on her lap, though, he wiggled them underneath her knees and out the other side, so that she was effectively sitting across his shins. “Mmm – that feels familiar.”
    She reddened at his grin, as he settled his head on one arm against the cushions. Surely he could feel the quickening pulse trying to beat its way out of her?
    “Put yours here if you want.” He patted his abdomen. “I won’t bite.”
    “ I’m okay,” she barely whispered.
    “ Getting comfy already? That’s good!” Elsie’s strident voice held a motherly tone as she barged in on them with the tea tray. It was deposited on the low table in front of the sofa, and she clapped her hands as she hurried straight back out of the den again. “Mr Delia Smith! Come and feed these people! My boy is fainting from the hunger already…”
    “ Keep your peace, woman!” the man’s voice retaliated. “You come here, and put bastard cat back outside before he jumps straight into the oven!”
    Christie started to lean forward to try and reach the teapot, far too aware of her weight moving on Adrik’s legs.
    “I’ll get it – you stay put.” He sat up, feet still tucked underneath her, and reached over to the table with much more ease, pulling it closer towards them.
    Now it was his unintentional movements that she was hyper-aware of, burning and rubbing through her cargo jeans. He poured out two cups of tea from the pot, ignoring the cold bottle of beer alongside.
    “Thanks.” Christie accepted her cup, and he settled back with his own. “You can drink the beer if you normally have one… I don’t mind.”
    “ You should mind,” he said. “Beer is for bachelors. Or barbecues. I don’t think this is a barbecue occasion.”
    Christie sipped her tea, wondering what else to say.
    “So he was quite happy to