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Chapter Five
Alanna was drowning, drowning in bliss, in sensation, as Leon possessed her mouth with his. Conscious thought had gone, submerged totally in this flood of hot, hungry desire that was consuming her very soul. Oh, after so long, so long, she had Leon again in her arms, wrapping him against her, pressing against his hard, muscled body, yielding her mouth to his as he plundered its sweetness, fingers spearing into her hair. Her hips strained forward, feeling with shocked excitement his instant response to her stimulus.
There were no words, none. How could there be words? she thought as her body took her over, yielding to what it so desperately longed to do — recover what had been lost so long ago….
His hand was moving to her waist, sliding between their tight-pressed bodies, seeking the zipper on her jeans. He was moving her, moving her backward —
"Where?" It was all he said, hardly lifting his mouth from hers.
"In here." The words gasped from her, and she let him steer her into her darkened bedroom.
It was insanity, madness. She had to stop him — she had to! She had to stop herself….
But she could not. A power greater than she could resist possessed her.
Silently, without words, only with touch, he stripped the clothes from her, tumbled her down upon the bed.
"I have to have you."
The words grated from him. And in the dark, without words, only with touch — hot, hungry touch — he took her.
Fire scorched through them, urging them to wild, wanton consummation. His possession was total, absolute. Her passion total, absolute. The whiteout of desire blinding them both, convulsing their bodies in one final, extreme urgency of ultimate sensation.
She cried out, smothering her cry in his shoulder, nails digging into his back without volition, only with need, absolute need. He surged within her one last time, head lifting, eyes blinded, for one long, endless moment that held eternity in it.
Then he lay, still and heavy, on her panting, exhausted body.
Her heart pounded, and slowly, very slowly, she realized what she had done. But before she even put mental thought to the emotion that now sluiced through her like a cold draft, he had thrown himself back off her, lying staring up into the dark. She could feel his bare arm against her arm, he was still that close — but as distant as the stars.
He said something in Greek that she did not understand. Then, in English this time, he said, "I'll set you up in a flat in London. I'll have to be discrete about you this time around. Even my father must not know that I've taken you back — let alone my mother."
His voice was harsh.
Bile rose in her throat. Horror at what she had just let happen. Disbelief that it had happened. And beneath the horror and the disbelief her body still throbbed, uncaring of anything but itself, its own needs and demands.
Hating herself, her body, she rolled jerkily to her side, swinging her legs to the ground and pushing herself upright. A hand shot out, imprisoning the hand she was using to lever herself up.
"Let me go!" Her voice was low, hissing.
He gave a grating laugh.
"I cannot! There is no question of it. Understand that. You should never have let me see you again. I have fought this for three months — and I have lost. I will take you back, make you my mistress again!"
There was a choking sound in her throat.
"You're insane!"
He laughed again. She turned round to look at him. In the dim light the planes of his face were etched starkly. His eyes blazed with a black light.
"Yes," he acknowledged, "I am. Insane to want you like this — insane to take you back. After everything you did to me. And yet I do, God help me. I want you — greedy, treacherous, faithless — but I don't care! You destroyed my brother, and I don't care! He wasn't even cold in his grave when you ran, taking all his money with you. And I don't care!"
His other hand snaked around her waist, hauling her down against him. Every muscle in his body was tensed, she could tell, and so were hers. His eyes burned into hers. "You looked so demure that first time I saw you —I had to teach you everything. So how is it, how, that you do this to me?" His hand moved, splaying down over the smooth curve of her hip, starting to caress her.
This time she found the strength to pull away. For a moment, so brief, he resisted the attempt. Then, abruptly, he let her go. She got to her feet unsteadily, horribly conscious of her nakedness — his.
"I want you to go," she said in a shaky husk. "Just get out. Go!"
