Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance by Emma Calin Read Free Book Online Page A

filled her.
    “We have forgotten to talk of boats.” She said dreamily at last, looking into his eyes which were as warm as his touch. He closed his eyes slowly and she watched the sweep of his long lashes.
    “You look - no- you are- so beautiful.” He said softly.
    She felt a surge of feeling that rippled upwards through her body in waves. She reached out and touched his scarred brow as if to take away the reality of it and of his violent life. And then - then he tilted up his chin and pushed a nuzzling kiss into the palm of her hand. Something beyond desire or anything she recognized as human both filled and drained her, leaving her motionless.
    “Merci.” He whispered.
    “Pourquoi?
    “Pour ta tendresse.”
    She was about to ask him what he meant but being with him had no meanings. Meanings were what had happened in her life before Freddie.
    They had stopped in Chelsea, just off Sloane Square. The driver came round and opened the door. They stepped out, hand in hand. Two camera flashes startled her.
    “Just a couple of paps - they have their job to do and anyway... I am not supposed to be with anyone else.” He commented casually.
    Anna dragged her mind back to the present. Paparazzi - she did not want her picture in the papers. She brushed aside her anxiety. Nothing was going to interfere with these few stolen hours.
    They were outside a restaurant “La Galerie” which was clearly exclusive. A waiter opened the door as they entered.
    “I hope you like it here. If not there is no one else to blame.” He smiled.
    “You own it?”
    “Well, you know, Ma mère - she saw it as an investment.”
    They took a secluded reserved table. The walls were decorated with fabulous paintings, everything from classical to cubist. He picked up on her interest.
    “Only a few are originals - I commission copies of works I admire.”
    Above them hung a full size copy of a Bronzino that she knew from the National Gallery. Venus was stealing Cupid’s arrow because of his wayward aim. Father Time was pulling back the curtain of Truth. She felt like a diver on the high board. She had to jump…
    “Freddie - I know who you are now. When we met we did not know anything of each other and...”
    “And it was so beautiful. It was the same for me. Now I know you only want to sell me a boat...” He joked.
    “No. No,” she insisted, “you know it is not like that, it’s just that...”
    “I’m a brute... you have discovered how I live.”
    “I never said that - I don’t care about that.”
    “Things have gone that way Anna. Maybe I would change it but I live with it you know. Shall we eat?”
    His tone had hardened and she felt that he had withdrawn from her. There was some place in his soul where she could not go and anyway, there was nowhere to go after tonight.
    “Are you eating garlic?” He asked with a smile, “In case... ”
    “Are you expecting a kiss?” She said, feeling her heart leap.
    “I do not presume... ”
    “You may presume Monsieur,” she whispered, “and yes - I want garlic and hot spice.”
    He ordered champagne - Veuve La Salle from his own vineyard. The superb meal - carpaccio of venison with truffle sauce, roasted salmon with rose petal harissa, white chocolate panna cotta with blackberry coulis - blended with his presence. She floated in time, watching his powerful hands, the strength of his neck and shoulders beneath his jacket. His movements were light and graceful but hinting at a restrained physical danger. They left aside talk of boxing or boats. They chatted about art, often in French. More and more they fell in step. As she lifted her knife, so did he. When she looked up at his face, she found his gaze coming up to meet hers. Somehow they were entwining without touch, following a choreography laid down in time for lovers.
    He was proud of his Michelin star and had a good knowledge of food and fine wine.
    “My mother is a brilliant woman - she deals with the business side of things.” He