His Emergency Fiancée by Kate Hardy Read Free Book Online Page A

a big baggy thing with teddies on that came down to her knees.
    Except right now it was nowhere near her knees. And he’d just discovered what sort of a body hid behind her white coat at work and the baggy T-shirts and sweaters or the huge, shapeless towelling robe she wore at home. A body he’d never actually seen in all the years he’d known her—they’d never gone swimming together and Kirsty wasn’t one for sunbathing. A body that was much more delectable than he’d ever have guessed.
    His mouth went dry. His body might be telling him to wake her gently, to touch her and kiss her and bring her to the point where they were desperate to be one, to let her body enfold his so he could take them both to paradise and back—but he couldn’t. Get close like that and she’d change. He’d change. Their whole relationship would change—and he didn’t want to lose her. Get involved, and they’d be ripped apart within weeks. Ben didn’t do long-term relationships. Except friendship.
    Kirsty didn’t do relationships either. She was married to her career. Always had been. She’d been top of their class all the way through their student years, and he’d only done so well because she’d made him study with her. She was clever and bright and good with patients—he’d overheard her at work and she always managed to reassure anyone who was in a tizzy.
    But she never went out, except in a group. If any man so much as approached her, he got a polite but very firm rebuff—she didn’t even dance with anyone on the rare occasions he’d persuaded her to go clubbing. It was as if she had sworn off men for good. He was sure something had happened in their first year as students, but she’d always evaded the subject. And ‘men’, he thought grimly, would include him. He didn’t want to lose the only other woman in his life who’d been constant.
    This whole engagement thing had been one of his worst ideas ever.
    It didn’t help that Kirsty’s hair smelt of apples and her skin smelt of the lemon shower gel she favoured. Edible. No. He wasn’t going to start thinking about his mouth on Kirsty’s skin. Or her mouth on his. Her hand stroking his back. Her legs twining round his waist and—
    No. Oh, hell. If he moved now, she’d wake and she’d find out how aroused he was and the whole thing would disintegrate into a complete and utter mess. But if he didn’t move, he wouldn’t be able to stop his wayward thoughts. About seeing Kirsty’s eyes all soft and almost golden with arousal, her body stretched out under his own, the softness of her skin sliding against his…
    He swallowed hard and tried to keep his hand still. Except it seemed to have a life of its own and his fingertips were tracing her skin, teasing her nipple into full hardness and then slowly sliding down to her waist, lower, across the soft satiny skin of her inner thigh.
    Stop it, he told himself fiercely. She’s your friend. Plain little Kirsty. Though she wasn’t plain, except in her own mind. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face and laughing brown eyes. Her soft brown hair had natural streaks of copper and bronze in it, and the body entwined round his right now was all curves…
    She might be wearing his ring, but it wasn’t a real engagement. He had no rights whatever where she was concerned. And he needed to remember that.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T HE next morning, when Kirsty woke, Ben was still wrapped round her—but not quite as much as he’d been in the middle of the night. Gently, she eased her way out of his arms without waking him, gathered her clothes and wash-bag and headed for the bathroom.
    He was still asleep when she crept back into their room to deposit her nightclothes and wash-bag in her case. He’d moved so he was lying on his back, his left arm curved up above his head. He reminded her of a little boy, long sooty lashes against his fair skin and a half-smile on his lips. For a moment, she could imagine a little boy lying in that