With This Fling... by Kelly Hunter Page A

the histories fast became our passion. I studied theBattle of Waterloo by walking the battlefield. I sat in the Colosseum and dreamed of gladiators and the roar of a Roman crowd.’
    ‘It sounds idyllic.’
    ‘It was richly rewarding,’ said Charlotte quietly. ‘And sometimes it was incredibly lonely. It’s why I resist the notion of taking the archaeology road again. At least here I have friends and a place that’s mine.’
    ‘Two places, in fact,’ murmured Greyson dryly.
    ‘Exactly.’ Charlotte fed him another prawn. ‘I like
your
home, by the way. It’s very you.’
    ‘Thank you. We’re almost at the cove.’
    And then they
were
at the cove and Greyson was cutting the engine and dropping anchor as the last shards of light from a long gone sun surrendered to the night.
    Charlotte smiled and let Greyson take the near empty food tray and lead her inside. He fetched some drinks—a white wine for her, beer for himself. He took two cheese-sauce-covered lobster halves from the fridge and shoved them in the oven. He looked comfortable in the kitchen. At home.
    Charlotte had never once pictured Gil in the kitchen. Certainly not in a ship’s galley. Nor had Gil ever been quite so delectably dressed.
    ‘You’re smiling,’ Grey murmured.
    ‘I know.’ She set her wine on the bench and flowed into Greyson’s arms, burrowing beneath his open shirt in search of warm skin over rippling muscle. She touched the tip of her tongue to his collarbone and tasted salt. He put his hand to her head and held her there for a moment, breathing in deep, before tilting her head back and covering her lips with his own in a kiss that spoke of welcome, and wanting, and a man who intended to savour every moment of this particular journey.
    ‘Miss me?’ he whispered, between kisses.
    ‘It’s really not part of the plan,’ she countered and kissed him again. She didn’t tell him that sinking into his kisses felt a lot like coming home. She didn’t say that she’d thought about him far more than she’d wanted to this past week. That she’d envied him his overprotective mother and his lovely ex-fiancée, the work that was his passion, and the surety with which he moved through life. A smart and sexy man who knew exactly what he wanted was a very attractive proposition for a woman who did not.
    He filled a gap, as Gil had filled a gap. He fed a need Charlotte hadn’t known existed.
    ‘I think I’m using you,’ she murmured.
    ‘That’s okay.’ He kissed her again. Thistime she moaned her approval. ‘Blame it on the endorphins.’
    ‘You don’t recommend that I take at least
some
responsibility for my behaviour?’
    ‘We have a short-term liaison agreement, remember? Your behaviour is entirely appropriate. You could even—just a suggestion—increase your enthusiasm for my company.’
    ‘You called, I came,’ she countered, stepping out of his embrace and retrieving her wine. ‘Undress me, make love to me, and I guarantee I’ll come some more. How much more enthusiasm do you want?’
    ‘Maybe enthusiasm wasn’t quite the right word,’ Greyson said smoothly. ‘Never mind.’
    He reached for his beer, leaned back against the tiny galley sink, and studied her intently. ‘My mother phoned this evening to ask me what I was doing this weekend. I told her I was spending it with you. She wants you over for dinner again, some time. Just the four of us, my father included.’
    ‘Why?’ asked Charlotte warily.
    ‘Perhaps she feels that she didn’t give you a chance.’
    ‘She doesn’t have to.’
    ‘Alas, she doesn’t know that.’ Grey studied her some more. ‘I’ll tell her you’re busy.’
    Charlotte lowered her gaze. Had she reallybeen involved with Greyson, she’d have grasped the olive branch extended. As it was … he could tell his mother whatever he liked.
    ‘It’s one of the drawbacks of having a nosey family,’ he said next. ‘My mother’s been after grandchildren for