The Virgin Bride (The Australians) Read Free Page B

hadn’t been eating properly since her aunt’s death. The fruit bowl in the centre of the kitchen table was empty, and so was the biscuit jar. Maybe she didn’t have much money to spend on food. Funerals and wakes did not come cheap. Had it taken all her spare cash to bury Ivy?
    Damn, but he wished he’d thought of that before.He should not have stayed away. He should have offered some assistance, seen to it she was looking after herself. What kind of doctor was he? What kind of friend? What kind of man?
    The kind who thought he could bowl up here out of the blue and ask this grief-stricken young woman to marry him, simply because it suited his needs. He hadn’t stopped to really consider her needs, had he? He’d arrogantly thought he could fill them, whatever they were.
    God, he hadn’t changed at all, he realised disgustedly. He was still as greedy and selfish as ever. When would he learn? Would he ever really change? Hell, he hoped so. He really did.
    But knowing what he was didn’t change his mind about his mission here tonight. He decided he was still a good catch for a girl whose circumstances weren’t exactly top drawer.
    â€˜I’ll get us some coffee, shall I?’ she said dully, and without waiting for an answer moved off to fill the electric kettle and plug it in.
    It wasn’t the first time she’d made him coffee. She’d done the honours every time he’d come to visit Ivy. She already knew he liked his coffee in a mug, white with one sugar, so she didn’t have to ask.
    Jason closed the back door behind him and sat down at the old Formica-topped table, silently watching her move about the kitchen, seeing again what he’d seen that first time. The unconscious grace of her movements. The elegance of her long neck. The daintiness of her figure.
    Once again, he felt the urge to touch her, to stroke that tempting neck, to somehow seduce her to his suddenly quite strong desire, a desire as strong and almost as compelling as he’d once felt for Adele.
    Yet she was nothing like Adele, whose dark and very striking beauty had a sophisticated and hard-edged glamour. Adele’s long legs and gym-honed body had looked incredibly sexy in those wicked little black suits she wore to work. And what she did for a red lace teddy had to be seen to be believed.
    Somehow Jason couldn’t see Emma dressed in either red or black, or having the body to carry off the kind of sexy lingerie Adele had been addicted to.
    But, for all that, he found the delicacy of her shape incredibly sensual, as he did the feminine free flowing dresses she favoured. He imagined she probably donned long frilly-necked nighties for bed. But he wouldn’t mind that. There was something perversely alluring in a woman covering up her body. It gave her a sense of mystery, a touch-me-not quality that was challenging and arousing.
    Jason realised he had no idea what Emma might look like naked, other than slender. Her breasts looked adequate in clothing, but who could say what was bra and what was not? Not that he found small breasts a turn-off. He liked tiny, exquisitely formed things.
    She was petite in height as well, head and shoulders shorter than his own six feet two, unlike Adele, who in heels matched him inch for inch. To be honest, he rather liked Emma having to tip back her head to look up at him. He liked everything about her. And, whilsthe had no doubt now that he was still a selfish man, Jason vowed never to do anything to deliberately hurt her, anything at all.
    â€˜Sorry I haven’t got any biscuits or cake to offer you,’ she apologised as she carried the two mugs over to the table and sat down opposite him. ‘I haven’t felt like shopping. Or cooking. Or eating, for that matter.’
    â€˜But you should eat, Emma,’ he couldn’t help advising. ‘You don’t want to get sick, do you?’
    A wan smile flitted across her face, as though she