Read A Lesson in Desire: Season of Desire Part 3 (Seasons Quartet) for Free Online Page A

came, and then through an open door and into a dark room. The door is kicked shut and I’m enveloped in complete blackness, my eyes wide with panic but seeing nothing.
    ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ says a voice in my ear. ‘Don’t scream, do you understand?’ Then the hand over my mouth relaxes its grip and I’m let go.
    I’m panting hard with shock, adrenalin racing through me and making my hands shake and fingertips prickle as I turn to look at my assailant, but I’ve already recognised the deep voice and the Scottish accent. ‘Miles?’ I gasp.
    A switch is flicked and a cool white light shines down upon us. There he is, standing right in front of me in a narrow hallway, his eyes hard with suspicion.
    ‘You heard me,’ he says roughly. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

Chapter Eleven
    ‘I came looking for you!’ I say, joy bubbling up in me at the sight of him. He looks so gorgeous in a pair of loose cotton pyjama pants and a white T-shirt that shows every bulge of muscle beneath. I throw my arms round his neck. ‘I’m so glad I found you! I thought we were going to be kept apart and I couldn’t stand it. I had to see you.’
    Miles is standing still and unresponsive. Then he reaches up and takes my arms from around his neck.
    I gaze up into his face, worried. His expression is stony, his blue eyes almost black in the white light from the overhead bulb. Despite its hard set, his mouth is still unbearably sexy.
    ‘What is it? Aren’t you pleased to see me?’
    There’s a pause that seems far too long, making me jittery with nervousness, before he says, ‘I don’t know if I’m pleased to see any of the Hammonds right now, if I’m honest.’ He turns and walks away from me, down the short hall and into the main room. It’s like something in a basic hotel, with a small double bed and some functional furniture. Miles sits down in a bucket armchair, looking far too big for it, and throws his arms over its back. I follow him.
    ‘Why?’ I ask, dismayed. ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘Wrong?’ He glares at me. ‘How about being interrogated for hours about the circumstances of our crash? How about being treated like some kind of criminal? I haven’t heard so much as a “thank you for saving my precious daughter’s life”.’ Miles looks angry now, and all I can think of is how amazingly sexy it makes him. His blue eyes start to flash and his hands ball into fists. ‘Your father hasn’t said as much but he’s making out that I’m some kind of blackmailer or kidnapper – I can’t quite work out what crazy ideas are floating through his head. He seems to think I’m guilty of something , anyway. And now they’re holding me as though I’m under some kind of house arrest.’
    ‘Arrest?’ I echo. ‘But you can leave if you want to, can’t you? I mean – you came out into the corridor to find me. They haven’t locked the door.’
    ‘It wouldn’t matter if they had. If I wanted to go, a locked door isn’t going to keep me in.’ He laughs mirthlessly. ‘But that arsehole Pierre has made it very clear that I’m not to go anywhere. I was just in the middle of deciding whether I’ll oblige him or not.’ He looks over at me. ‘I’m sitting here thinking about heading off when I see the handle of my door turning. Nice and quiet and sneaky. So I wonder if there might be some dirty tricks going on and slip out to have a look. And there you are, down the hall. You’re lucky I recognised you or it might have been rather nasty.’
    I stare at him, horrified by his implication. ‘You mean – you might have killed me?’
    He glares back and then suddenly a huge smile breaks up his angry expression and he laughs, properly this time. I’m filled with relief as he says, ‘Ah, ignore me. I’ve been sitting here, working myself into a fit of paranoia as bad as your father’s. I’m not angry with you. I’m fucked off, it’s true, but it’s not that bad. I just resent being treated