properly. I hate those tiny cups they usually hand out.”
As he leaned forward to poke the fire into a blaze the leaping flames danced in the depths of his eyes, emphasising his high cheekbones and strong humorous mouth. His face was a little too broad, his nose a little too long for the faultless good looks of a film star. But those compelling eyes, the thick black hair and expressive features made him incredibly attractive.
Then he moved back from the fire and his face was hidden from her as he settled down, his back against her chair. At first she was keenly aware that his shoulder was warm and solid against her leg, then as he began to talk about the meeting he had attended she found herself relaxing, answering him easily, laughing with him. The firelight, the cosiness of the candlelit room, the sharp, pleasant tang of the brandy on her tongue, the security of knowing that she was no longer alone – all these things combined to overcome her initial awkwardness.
Up until tonight she had taken care to keep their relationship on strictly formal lines. From the first, his casual teasing attitude towards her had invited her to treat him as a friend, or even an older brother, rather than an employer, but she had denied herself that pleasure. An only child raised by shy parents, she had never found it easy to make friends of either sex, but with Gareth it was even more difficult. Almost from the beginning she had found him disturbing: at first she thought that there was something unlikeable about him, although she could not identify it. She was totally in love with him before she realised what was happening to her.
Therein lay the danger – she could not allow herself to love him. She must remain as an impersonal part of his life. He would be appalled if he sensed the truth. Worse, he would be amused and then irritated, and she couldn’t bear that.
It had not been easy to maintain her cool aloof manner but she had worked hard at it, needing it for protection. But now, with firelight and candlelight lapping them in a charmed circle of gold and Gareth’s shoulder warm against her leg, she let her guard slip, talking about her parents, her home in the south-west, her college days.
“ And what about the man in your life?” he asked lazily as she leaned forward to put her empty mug on the coffee table.
“ There isn’t one.”
“ Come on – there must be someone, somewhere.” He twisted to face her, his green eyes, points of light dancing deep within them, travelling over her face. “Don’t tell me” – his voice dropped to a teasing murmur – “that you’ve reached the grand old age of eighteen and never been kissed?”
“ That is none of –”
“ – my business,” he finished for her, reaching for her hand and trapping it in his before she had time to draw it away. Turning it over in his he opened her curled fingers gently, one by one. A shiver ran through Morrin’s body at his touch.
“ Gareth – ” She meant to speak sharply, to snatch her hand away, but her voice was a whisper.
“ What?” His free hand stretched up to touch the long hair shadowing her down-turned face, fingers curling about a thick strand then tightening and tugging gently.
For a split second the alarm bells sounded in her head, then the clamour receded, dulled by Gareth’s touch. It seemed natural to let herself slip from the chair into his arms and to feel, at last, his lips on hers.
Two
Gareth’s kiss was gentle and yet it flamed through Morrin with an intensity that made her body quiver. She had wondered, from their first meeting, what it would be like to be held in his arms. Now she knew, and she didn’t ever want the magic moment to stop.
When his mouth left hers her eyes fluttered open and she parted her lips in a soft sigh.
“ Funny,” he said, “I could have sworn that by this time you would have tried to slap my face. You’re entitled to one slap.” She reached up to touch his face.
Jimmy Fallon, Gloria Fallon
Adam Haeder; Stephen Addison Schneiter; Bruno Gomes Pessanha; James Stanger