Free The Desert Castle by Isobel Chace

wanted to admit, especially as kisses were considered such common currency nowadays. She pinned a smile to her lips.
    ‘ Doesn ’ t everyone ? ’
    H e put his hands on her shoulders and swung her round to face him, lifting her easily on to the stool she had been using to give her extra height while she worked. Finding herself on his level for once, she found his mouth much less disapproving than she had thought. It was firm and very, very self-assured, but there was nothing condemnatory about it, not even when she made a flustered movement to escape him. She wasn ’ t ready to be kissed by him ! She heaved a deep breath to try and steady herself, scarcely surprised at all when his hand slipped from her shoulder to the back of her head, drawing her firmly but inevitably into the circle of his embrace. She would have protested even then, but her lips trembled so badly that she thought better of it.
    ‘ What a sweet fraud you are, Marion Shirley, ’ he said softly. ‘ You ’ re every bit as shy and as fearful as she is, aren ’ t you? No w onder you have such a fellow-feeling for her. ’
    S he hoped she didn ’ t look as ridiculous to him as she felt. ‘ I didn ’ t know— Y ou took me by surprise ! ’ she defended herself.
    H is lips met hers in the briefest of contacts and the s hock of it reached right down inside her, fountaining up again in a sensation of such warm delight that she could only wonder if she would ever be the same again. She stepped off the stool in a haze of bewilderment and sat down on it quickly in case her knees refused to support her any longer.
    G regory squatted down beside her, his navy-blue eyes very dark as he looked at her. ‘ Marion, what ’ s the matter? Are you all right ? ’
    S he managed a shadow of her usual smile. ‘ You shouldn ’ t flirt with the art woman ! ’ she rebuked him.
    H e smiled back at her, cupping her chin in his hand. ‘ Why not ? ’
    ‘ Denise told you not to, ’ she reminded him.
    ‘ Y ou ’ ll have to think up a better reason than that, ’ he murmured.
    ‘ W hat better reason can there be? Don ’ t you want to please Denise ? ’
    ‘ Not to the point of having her tell me what to do. No girl, however pretty, is going to run my life for me, ’ he said firmly.
    S S he stirred against his restraining hand, seeking to make her escape, but he had no intention of letting her go.
    ‘ We ’ ll have to do something about this fixation you have about Denise, ’ he said against her lips. ‘ I don ’ t want to hear her name again this afternoon. ’ He kissed her sl owly and all inclination for escape died away. ‘ There ! ’ he warned her on a note of masculine triumph there was no mistaking. ‘ I ’ ll claim a similar forfeit— ’
    ‘ No. No, you won ’ t ! ’ Marion leaped to her feet, not even trying to hide her anger. ‘ You may have Judith in London, and Denise for week-ends, but you haven ’ t got me! I don ’ t play those sort of games— ’
    ‘ And you think I do ? ’
    S he nodded, unable to speak when she saw the cold mockery on his face. She would have given anything to have banished the dislike she was sure he felt for her.
    ‘ One day, ’ he said, weighing each word with a deliberation that appalled her, ‘ I ’ ll make you take that back, Miss Shirley. You ’ ll eat your words if you choke on them, and I won ’ t lift a finger to help you ! ’
    ‘ I ’ m sorry, ’ she said.
    ‘ You haven ’ t begun to be sorry ! ’ He hesitated, aware of the appeal in her wide, anxious eyes. ‘ I shan ’ t bother you again! ’
    M arion looked away, struggling with the bitter despair that seized her. ‘ Are we still going to Madaba ? ’ she asked, afraid he would see the tears that were gathering at the back of her eyes.
    ‘ Do you still want to go? ’
    S he nodded. ‘ I ’ ve said I ’ m sorry, ’ she whispered.
    H e watched her for a moment in silence, then he said, ‘ Don ’ t give it another thought. ’ He