Grr. “Gee, thanks.”
She led the way to a small gate that led onto the Heath. There were a few dog-walkers, but Lexi guided him away from the main paths and toward her favorite place.
“Did you know the Heath is the biggest area of undeveloped land in London?” she said.
“I’d never really thought about it.”
“Well, it is.”
He walked fast and despite her claims she could walk in anything, her heels were sinking in the grass. The sun was going down, but the night was still warm. Reaching up she pulled the clasp from her hair and ran her hands through it, releasing some of her tension.
It had been a stressful day. She heaved a huge sigh, then peeked sideways. He’d rolled up his sleeves, showing strong, tanned forearms, and the edge of the black ink of a tattoo. Did he have more? He’d never had tattoos in her fantasies, but she wasn’t averse to the idea.
His expression was distant, as though unaware of her presence, and he moved with the lithe grace of a predator. He’d obviously looked after himself since he’d left the army. There didn’t appear to be an ounce of spare fat on him. She sucked in her belly as a wave of inadequacy washed over her. Self-doubt had been a constant companion in her teen years. She’d thought the negative emotion banished, but here it was again.
The truth was, no way was she going to try and seduce him. Because she’d fail, and then everything would be an even bigger disaster than it was right now. And maybe he’d even hate her. And she didn’t want that.
It was a stupid idea. Just another fantasy. And she needed to get real here and deal with the problem, because if she didn’t sort it out, things could get in a huge mess, very quickly.
She sighed again, and he turned to her. “Something wrong?”
“Lots of things.” Then she shrugged. “And it’s been a long day.” She waved to a huge oak tree up ahead. “We’ll sit and talk there.”
She sank to the grass and stretched her legs out in front of her, tracing the run in her stocking while he settled beside her, his back against the broad trunk, knees bent, forearms resting on them. “It’s amazing—we’re in the middle of London and there’s nobody around.”
“You’ve never been here before?”
“No.”
“The gates close at ten. But I have a key—Tom is a grounds man here—he gave me one.”
“Tom?”
“He lives in my house.”
“You live with a guy?”
He sounded…outraged. But she was probably mistaken. Why would he care? Still, she hurried to put him straight. “Not live with like that—he’s a friend. I met him on the Heath one day, and he told me he’d been thrown out of his flat when they found he had a dog. I said he could stay at my place. He looks after the garden.”
She breathed deeply and let the atmosphere soothe her as it always did. Night was falling, though it never got totally dark here, with light filtering in from the city beyond. She shifted slightly so she could see his face. “So talk.”
…
She’d loosened her hair, and it hung about her shoulders in a mass of dark red curls. Her lipstick had long since gone, leaving her lips naturally pink and full. His mind filled with the memory of how they tasted of honey and lemons and spice.
His gaze lowered to the V of her wrap around dress, the black framing the creamy swell of her breasts, the material thin enough so he could see the points of her nipples.
Don’t go there.
Her knees were drawn up under her and she shifted, giving him the briefest glimpse of the pale skin of her thighs.
Or there.
But she was wearing stockings—so not playing fair—and his dick jerked in his pants.
Not good news.
Something about her made his mind shift to sex. Or maybe it was that everything made him think about sex at the moment. Perhaps they should have gone to a crowded bar after all.
And what was she thinking of coming to a deserted place like this with what was, after all, almost a virtual stranger? A man who had married her for money—hardly a recommendation of upstanding character.
While he watched, she ran one fingertip up the run in her stocking, and his traitorous dick twitched again. Shit, he was getting hard and she hadn’t even touched him. Time to get this conversation done so they could get the hell out of here. He might want sex, but sex with this woman would be a mistake of huge proportions. Massive. She wasn’t the nostrings type. In fact, she was nothing but strings, and if he wasn’t careful she’d have him tied up so tight in those strings, they’d strangle the life out of him.
He cleared his throat. “I want an annulment.”
She’d been studying the ground, but now she looked up, her eyes glowing gold in the dim light. “And I need to stay married.”
“It can be a quiet annulment. No one will know.”