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made Kyla shiver. Marc's arm tightened about her briefly, and he
said, We'd better get back to the car you're cold. Have you been
waiting here all the time?'
'I walked about a bit, and talked to some children that were here.'
'You like children, don't you?' he said casually as they turned and
began strolling towards the wide steps leading to the road.
The tourists' bus was turning at the foot of the steps, then lumbering
off down the road, and although a couple of cars were packed
alongside his, no one else was in sight. Marc's hand tugged at hers
gently, stopping her at the top of the steps. 'Why didn't you tell me
about Terry?' he asked.
Kyla had been expecting this since yesterday, when someone had
called Terry by his name, and Kyla had seen Marc's taken aback look
before his eyes swivelled to hers with a hard, questioning glint in
them.
'What about him?' she asked innocently, wondering if he had
pretended to have forgotten until now, so as to take her off guard.
'You know what,' Marc said softly. 'You never told me he was only a
kid.'
'You never asked.'
His eyes narrowed a little. 'Were you waiting for me to ask?'
'No.' She shook her head, tugged her hand from his hold and ran
lightly down the steps. He followed more slowly, and by the time he
got to the bottom she was already waiting by the car for him. He
came over to her, but instead of opening the door to let her in, he
leaned his hands on the roof, one at each side of her, so that she
backed against the door, eyeing him warily.
'You know what I thought about Terry,' he said grimly. 'Were you
trying to make me jealous?'
'It wasn't my fault, what you thought. I told you, I don't play games.'
Her eyes went beyond him, drawn by voices and laughter, and she
saw a family descending the steps. 'Please, Marc!' she said urgently.
'Someone is coming!'
His eyes narrowed in amusement. 'We're not doing anything
shocking,' he said, but he moved so that she could step back from the
door and let him open it for her.
To her relief, he didn't pursue the subject of Terry any further, but
drove her straight home. When they were nearly there, he said, Tm
hoping you're going to ask me in for a meal.'
Taken aback, she said, 'I haven't much in. You wouldn't want bread
and cheese.'
He cast her a quick glance. 'Tell you what, we'll drive on a bit further
and buy some fried chicken to take back to your place okay?'
Kyla hesitated and then said weakly, 'Okay.'
She could hardly refuse. Marc had entertained her several times and
she had never repaid -his hospitality. He wasn't asking much, she
knew. Ashamed of her ungraciousness, suddenly, she said, It will be
fun. Not up to Mrs Bridgeway's standards, of course, but but next
time I'll invite you properly and cook something special, I promise.'
His hand briefly touched hers, and she knew she had pleased him.
Well, why shouldn't she invite a man round for a meal? Other girls
did it all the time; it was high time she stopped being afraid of life
and began to reach for what it had to offer.
The trend of her thoughts startled her, and she made a soft
exclamation, her hands moving towards her face and falling again on
to her lap.
Marc glanced at her sharply. 'What is it?'
'Nothing,' she answered, turning to smile at him in a way that brought
his dark brows up slightly. 'Not a thing!'
The chicken was delicious, and Marc had bought plenty of it,
overriding Kyla's attempts to pay for the meal. They washed the
plates they had used, then sat side by side on Kyla's sofa with cups of
coffee, watching the television news. Then Marc put their empty cups
on the low table beside the sofa and took her in his arms. Kyla rested
her head on his shoulder, and for the first time put her own arms
about him.
His lips brushed her hair and her temple, moved to her cheek, and
finally her lips, prising them slighdy apart with a warm insistence. A
strange delight touched her, but when he moved his tongue delicately
between her lips and ran the dp of it along the edge of her teeth, she
pulled back, and he lifted his head to look down at her, still holding
her in his arms. 'What's the matter,' he said softly. 'Didn't you like
that?'
'I don't I don't know,' she said. 'You're terribly experienced, aren't
you?'
For a moment his gaze shifted beyond her. Then he said, with an odd
smile, 'More than you, anyway. Does it bother you?'
Kyla dropped her gaze and shrugged.
He looked at her bent head, then eased his hold on her a little and
leaned back against the sofa. 'Haven't you had boy-friends?' he asked
her.
'Not many. My parents insisted I finish school before I started
Slaving boy-friends. And since then I've been too busy to bother
much.'
'Busy working, you mean?'
'Yes. I always wanted a shop of my own, and all die time I was in
Auckland, I had two jobs so that I could save enough money for it.
That didn't leave much time for -'
'For dances and parties and boy-friends. No, I guess not. Where did
you learn to dance, by the way?'
'At school. I haven't danced since until I met you.'
'Or kissed?' he teased.
Soberly she said, 'Once or twice.'
'I won't take that quite literally,' he promised. "What about Chris
Cameron?'
'Friends,' she said, 'that's all. But not any more. At least, I haven't
seen him to talk to for ages.'
'He's been transferred,' Marc said abruptly.
'Has he? What do you mean?'
'We have a small office in Auckland. He's working there now.'
Something in his voice, in the tenseness of the arms that held her,
made her lift her head from his shoulder and looked into his face.
'Whose idea was that?' she asked carefully..
His mouth hardened. 'Does it matter? He wanted a promotion; he's
got it. Why? Do you miss him?'
Would you care if I did?' She was almost angry.
'Yes, I'd care!' Marc said savagely, and thrust a hand under her chin
to lift her mouth to his.
She recoiled from the violence of his kiss, and he checked himself
immediately, not relinquishing his hold on her, but making his mouth
gentle over hers until her rigidity relaxed into acceptance and then a
sweet surrender. In a swift; economical movement, he pulled her
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