Playing for Keeps: Harford Scarlet Series Read Online Free PDF Page B

live without their man once he’d dumped them.
    I’m not going to be like that, she vowed. I’m never going to wait for the man to call. I’m not going to live my life according to sexual attraction, to fall into bed at the drop of a hat just because he says he wants me or tries to seduce me. To let others down who were depending on me. Not me – it won’t be me.
    With that determination in place, she restarted the car and continued on the long journey back to her hometown.
    The last few drinks had probably been a mistake. So was leaping in a taxi with some other friends to Flames, a popular cheesy nightclub a few miles away. Plus, dancing most of the night on the stage, without a break. Clare had hobbled back to Sarah’s flat with the spare key a few hours previously, sharing a cab with a mutual friend heading in the same direction.
    The steadily increasing pain in Sarah’s own abused feet had finally paused her dancing and she was graciously helped off the stage by a fellow dancer, whom she saucily pecked on the cheek before skipping away from his clutching hands.
    Sliding, dipping and swaying between the hordes of clubbers, she made her way to the loos. After drying her hands, she peered into the mirror. Her make-up was a thing of the past, the only traces racoon smudges around her eyes. She cheerfully hummed along to the music as she pulled out her emergency make-up kit for repairs.
    ‘Looking fine, honey.’ Her friend Sian grinned over her shoulder.
    Sarah finished the last swipe of mascara and grinned back. ‘I try my best.’
    ‘Great moves on the dance floor; you had a few admirers wanting to buy you a drink.’
    ‘Lead me to them.’ Sarah giggled.
    Sian grabbed her hand and led her out to a side bar near where she had been dancing, to a group of good-natured lads, some of whom she vaguely recognised. For the next 20 minutes, Sarah was subjected to the most hackneyed and clichéd chat-up lines she’d ever heard. She responded to most of them with a giggle and a shake of her head.
    She bopped and swayed, leaning against the bar as she watched Sian flirt. Drinks kept on arriving in her hand, even though she gratefully batted others away.
    ‘Here come the Harford boys!’ yelled one of the lads.
    Sarah’s head shot around. She blinked as some of the rugby team, in their distinctive shirts and ties, descended on her crowd; many among the two groups were friends and she saw them bump fists and exchange other, more complicated greetings.
    No Scotsmen in sight. Disappointment warred with relief, until she felt someone stop by her. She looked up at the new arrival and her eyes rounded.
    ‘Fancy seeing you here.’ Tom smirked down at her. ‘Hello again.’
    Hmm. Copious amounts of booze must have made her radar malfunction. ‘You … Why shouldn’t I be here? We all go the same places, unless …’ She frowned at him. ‘Are you following me? Tha’s just naughty. You’re a naughty man.’ Each word was preceded by her finger drumming his solid chest.
    ‘Stop poking holes in me.’ He attempted to capture her hand without success.
    ‘You, you’re made of granite,’ she scoffed. ‘Dark, gorgeous, Scottish granite. Mmm.’ She giggled and wriggled away. ‘You’re bad for me, though. Bad, and dangerous to know.’ She frowned. ‘Not mad, though, unless you’re mad-angry.’ She snorted at her own comments. ‘Tha’s why I stay away from you. Got to resist you, no matter what.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘’Cause if I don’t, it’ll hurt me again. But my feet don’t hurt any more so ta-ra.’
    With that, Sarah swirled away from a puzzled Tom and returned to the stage to dance the rest of the night away.

Chapter Three
    Sarah caught the ball but before she could start running, she was tackled and brought down. The tackler’s strong arms and legs wrapped around her lower half, immobilising her. She tried to free herself but they just wound tighter. The arms crept further up, cupping her breasts and