Dark Paradise by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online

the small home bakery just round the corner to collect some bread for them both.
    Bread and honey, she decided as she called 'Come in,' and some of the previously rejected coffee. Probably Maria would join her.
    All the breath seemed to escape from her body in one jolting gasp as Matt Lincoln walked into the room.
    She slid off the stool, uncomfortably aware of the increased rate of her heartbeat.
    'What the hell are you doing here?'
    'I met your landlady on the steps. She told me to come straight up.' He smiled thinly. 'Were you hoping to have me arrested for trespass?'
    'Well, she had no right,' Kate said stormily. 'Will you please get out of here right now!'
    'Well, you're consistent, I'll give you that,' he said grimly. 'Morning, afternoon or evening, it's always the hard word.'
    'What else to do you expect?' Kate glared at him. 'How did you find out where I live?'
    'I could ask you the same question,' he drawled. 'But I won't. Let's just say I'm as good a detective as you any day of the week, and call it quits, shall we?'
    She stared at him bitterly, resenting the intrusion, although she knew she had brought it on herself by her own actions. He looked incredibly tall, the sloping attic -ceiling emphasising his height, and he seemed to fill the available space completely. Her space, Kate thought angrily. Her privacy.
    'Quits, then,' she said with an effort. 'Now will you please leave—I have work to do.'
    He took in the litter of crumpled paper around her feet and trailing to the wastebasket. 'Going well?' he asked pleasantly.
    'A new project,' Kate said shortly. 'And early days yet.' She paused. 'Please will you go.'
    'Presently,' he said. 'When I've said what I came here to say.'
    'There's no need for any further conversation,' she began.
    'I don't agree.' His tone was smooth but definite, and it seemed to convey a warning. Kate felt herself tense. He glanced round the studio. 'Is there any coffee going? I've had no breakfast.'
    'Too busy looking for me, no doubt,' she said tautly.
    'Too busy, certainly,' he said laconically.
    She hadn't the slightest desire to give him coffee, but she knew that any kind of protest would only make her appear mean-minded and foolish, so with a little shrug she led the way across the landing to her bed-sitting room, silently thanking her stars as she did so that in spite of everything, she had still found the time that morning to make her bed and leave the room tidy. She walked over to the worktop and flicked the switch with operated the percolater. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Matt Lincoln looking round appraisingly, lowering the zip on his casual jacket, and her heart sank.
    'Perhaps you'd like to help yourself when it's ready,' she said hurriedly. 'I really do have to get on and...'
    'Not yet.' His tone was cool but utterly implacable, and he was between her and the door. 'As I said, we have some talking to do.' He pulled a chair across and sat down, straddling it, his folded arms resting on its back, grinning sardonically at her expression of dismay.
    'Very well,' she said, pretending a calmness she certainly didn't feel. She didn't like the way he was watching her as she moved about putting milk in a jug, taking two pottery mugs out of her china cupboard. The faded yellow sweatshirt wasn't particularly revealing, but her jeans clung to her hips and thighs like a second skin, a fact which he was frankly and openly appreciating. Kate gritted her teeth.
    The coffee was percolating, sending a beguiling aroma through the room. She wanted to relax—after all, this was her home—but she couldn't, not with him there. His presence was like an irritant. He seemed to charge up the atmosphere, destroying the workmanlike but peaceful ambience she had been at pains to create for herself.
    She poured the coffee into the mugs and handed him one, her face stony. He took it with a brief word of thanks, declining milk and sugar. Kate leaned against the worktop, sipping her own drink,