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He’d managed to surprise me even further. “What?”
“Show me your hands. I want to make sure you didn’t lift anything. You’ve always had such sticky fingers.”
Immediately I shot my hands out, defiant. I was wearing Bella’s rings: a fat Canary diamond that had once belonged to Granda’s wife, an ornate sapphire beside it, the world’s most expensive manicure on my nails. Unfortunately, my hands trembled slightly, and I quickly stuffed them back in my pockets again. “You are such a bastard,” I said.
I had only one physical advantage over Bella. I had better hands. Her fingers were short, squarish, and her original nails equally short. My fingers were long, graceful, the palms narrow and delicate. They were my only vanity, and I’d decided on my own to keep them out of sight. I didn’t think they would give me away, but I couldn’t afford to risk it.
Fortunately, he didn’t appear to have taken any notice. “Fair enough,” he said, stepping out of my way. “You can go. For now.”
“Oh, may I?” I mocked him. “At least I’ve done what I promised. We don’t need to repeat this, do we?”
I was almost past him, reaching for the door, when his hand shot out, capturing my wrist and swinging me around to face him. His eyes were dark, unreadable in his tanned face, and for a moment I was afraid he’d look at my hands again, then loudly declare me an imposter.
What he did was even worse. “I just want to check something,” he murmured in an offhand voice. And in the next moment he’d pulled me hard against him, his mouth covering mine.
I was shocked. Horrified. I fought, pushing at him, trying to dislodge him and the hard pressure of his mouth. He caught my flailing hands with one of his as the other held me firmly against him, and I was going to stomp on his foot with the heavy leather clogs when something stopped me. Something changed.
He was warm, all hard muscle and bone, big against me. I stilled in his arms, not fighting anymore, trembling slightly. In a moment of complete insanity, I wanted to see what would happen, what he would taste like, how it would feel to be held, to be kissed by a man whose strong body came from hard work and not a gym. I wanted the reality of his kiss, the dream of it. His grip loosened around my wrists, then released me, coming up to cup my chin, and he slowly, carefully pushed my mouth open with his, deepening the kiss.
The touch of his tongue surprised me. The men I had known didn’t use their tongues when they kissed, but Ian did, pushing into my mouth, tasting me, and my trembling grew stronger, until I felt his hand on my back, gently stroking me, up and down, soothing me as his kiss shattered me, and I wanted to kiss him back, to tell him I was sorry I was lying, to tell him I wanted him.
Because I did. Trapped in the confusing shelter of his arms, I could feel my breasts growing tight and hot, could feel the unexpected clenching low between my legs. Desire. Lust. Feelings I had thought weren’t part of me.
But they were. Ian was arousing them, as his hand slid up and down my back, calming me, seducing me, and oh, God, I wanted to be seduced.
And then, unexpectedly, he set me away from him, and I blinked, confused, swaying slightly. “Don’t tell me my kisses make you faint, Bella-Beast?” his sarcastic voice came to my ears, and my knees straightened, my eyes shot open, and all that erotic lassitude vanished.
I rubbed my hand across my mouth to wipe away the taste of him, giving him my most powerful glower. “What was that for?” My voice came out very husky and Bella-like without even trying.
His face was absolutely blank. I would have expected mockery, amusement, triumph, but instead, he had the same inscrutable expression he always did. “I just thought I’d see what you tasted like. Turns out it’s nothing special.”
If I’d been a wild animal I would have curled my lip in a snarl. As it was, I kept my face as neutral as his. “Well, now that you’re satisfied, I don’t see any need to do it again. One kiss is one too many.”
This time the smile was so faint it was almost a mirage, but it lingered in his dark eyes. “Oh, I’m far from satisfied. But we’ll talk about that later. In the meantime, I’m expecting someone, and I don’t think she’d like running into you.”
“And who is she?” I said haughtily.
“None of your damned business, Bella. Go back to the house.”
“When I’m good and ready,” I shot back.
He took a step closer, when he was already too close, and his body was vibrating with menacing grace. “Are you sure you want to tempt me?”
“I’m ready,” I said hastily, hating myself for my cowardice. But he made no attempt to stop me, and I was across the courtyard, opening the kitchen door when I saw the car drive up.
I didn’t know cars, but I recognized hers as something sleek and obscenely expensive. She climbed out, and I watched her from the shadows, honestly curious, I told myself. What kind of woman would waste her time with someone like Ian?
She was gorgeous. Voluptuous, sensual, with flowing black hair and a generous mouth, and she moved into the stables with a fluid grace I could never hope to master. So she was a paragon. With lousy taste in men. It meant nothing to me.
No, I had more important things to concentrate on. Saying goodnight to my dying grandfather. Getting the hell out of Dodge as soon as I could.
And facing the long-lost love of my life, Marcus Whitehead, when he walked back in.
God help me.
Chapter Seven
I didn’t sleep well. I blamed it on jet lag, on the long nap I’d taken, on the stuffiness of the room, on the distraction of the soft night breeze after I opened the shutters. I blamed it on Bella and the unexpected hurt of her betrayal. She was the one who’d come up with Podge. Of course, she’d never known how much it would hurt, or how it would stick. But still.
