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His own body had flooded with her.
A sharp intake of breath knifed through him as he stared blindly out into the dark.
How could it have happened?
He’d been totally, completely, out of control. Unable to halt that sudden, unstoppable surging of his body. The total, absolute need to fill her.
Become one with her.
Roughly he pushed away from the balustrade and strode back inside.
I should have left her in London.
A mocking smile parted his lips. He knew exactly what he’d brought her to Singapore for. Portia Lanchester had sold herself to him, and he was still in the mood to buy her wares.
And next time he took her he would be in total, absolute control.
The sun was high when she woke. For a good half an hour she just simply lay there, unwilling to go out of her bedroom in case Diego Saez was there. But eventually she realised she couldn’t just go on hiding for ever in her room.
Dressing was simple. She’d managed to grab a single sundress and a change of underwear from her flat, and, after her shower, she put them on.
Heart in her mouth, she went out into the suite’s sitting room.
It was deserted.
Clutching her handbag, she went out. She had no key, but assumed that the hotel would let her back in if need be.
There was a coffee shop downstairs, off the huge lobby, and she sat there a while, sipping coffee and nibbling a pastry. She didn’t feel hungry.
She didn’t feel anything.
That total sense of blankness had descended on her again. She could feel nothing.
Deliberately she kept it that way. It was the only way she was going to survive this. She knew that. By keeping that frail armour around her. By recognising, admitting, that there was nothing else for her to do. She had no choice any more. She was here to save Salton—not herself.
And to do that she had to be what Diego Saez wanted her to be.
A body for his bed.
Nothing more.
And when she was not in his bed, then she would have to keep that frail armour around her—the armour that kept the rest of the world away from her, kept her within a blank, insensate cocoon.
It was the only way to get through.
She paid for her breakfast with her credit card, and wandered out into the lobby again. Outside, through the revolving doors, she could see hot sunshine beating down. She wondered what to do. Presumably she ought to stay in the hotel.
And do what?
The place must have a pool, she supposed, and went across to the desk to make enquiries. The smiling assistant also indicated the small interior mall of shops and boutiques, stretching in a wide corridor beyond the bank of lifts. Using her credit card again, Portia bought herself a swimsuit. It was not her usual style, but it came with a filmy sarong in a matching gold and turquoise print.
Even through the shade of a thick parasol Portia could feel the sun beating down on her back. She would need to cool off in the pool again, but right now she was too tired to move. Although she’d slept till late she still felt exhausted.
It must be the heat…
But it was more than exhaustion of the body, she knew, even after the long, unexpected flight and the change in time-zones.
It was exhaustion of the spirit.
