AllFreeNovel
Share Us
'You seemed so young then, so unsure and gentle and dreamy-eyed,' he mused softly. 'I had the feeling I had to treat you like fragile porcelain, that I mustn't frighten you in any way by rushing you. I was so conscious I was years older than you—not just numerically but in the ways of the world.' He paused, and then, 'How you must have laughed at me, Annie,' he added with sinister control, his face darkening and his mouth a thin, hard line.
'No, no, I didn't,' she protested shakily, terrified of what he was going to do. It wasn't like that; you know it wasn't.'
'Did you tell him all about me? Laugh about me together?' he asked menacingly. 'The ruthless and cynical Hudson de Sance fooled by a little slip of an English girl?'
'No, I told you, it wasn't like that,' she repeated desperately.
'What was it like, then?' he bit back savagely. Tell me, Annie. I'd really like to know, to understand'
There it was again, that blindingly brilliant lawyer's brain that couldn't bear to think it hadn't sensed or known what was beneath its nose, she thought despairingly. That was what this was all about at root level. He was over her—of course he was—men like Hudson didn't wait two years for anyone. But her supposed deceit that had fooled him so completely was still rankling like a festering sore in that stunningly intelligent mind.
She began to struggle but stopped almost instantly, her twisting only making her aware of the hard and powerful male lines of his big frame as she came into intimate contact with his body. And there was something else she was hotly, and humiliatingly, aware of too—she wanted him desperately. If he began to make love to her it wouldn't be rape. And then he proved that very point.
He bent his head, his mouth hard on hers, possessive, his hands clasping either side of her head as she tried to turn her face away and his body touching the length of her. She tried—she really, really tried—to hide what effect he was having on her shaky equilibrium but it was useless; the moment their mouths had fused it had been fire meeting fire. She was lost, utterly lost.
In the old days, when he had first met her, his lovemaking had been warm and coaxing in deference to her innocence, and later, even when he'd asked her to marry him, she had always sensed he was exercising an enormous control over his desire for her, his demands always tempered by the knowledge of her youth. Now there was no such restraint.
His mouth was heated as it plundered hers, demanding its right to probe and explore, and as sensation shot through every part of her body she could feel herself melting for him, becoming fluid and soft and moist. She wanted to draw back, to tell him that this was wrong, that he was wrong, that she wasn't the accomplished lover and woman of the world he seemed to think she was, but she couldn't His lips and hands wouldn't let her.
He moved his body over hers in a deliberate fuelling of her passion as he kissed her, and although she could hear the soft little moans of desire that were whimpering in her throat she was unable to stem them, her will to resist quite gone.
'You want me, Annie. In spite of everything you want me.' His voice was soft and husky against her lips, but there was a note of triumph there too that she recognised with a little jolt of her heart. This was premeditated, she told herself frantically—a cold-blooded exercise on his part to show her he only had to touch her and the old magic was as powerful as it had ever been.
But he wanted her badly—that much was genuine, as his body was showing her only too clearly, his arousal huge. Yes, he wanted her—in a physical sense. But the essence of his previous relationship with her—the tender passion, the joy and love and laughter—were gone. She had killed it. And this was crazy; no good could come out of it; she had to stop…
'You're hurting me.' He wasn't and they both knew it.
'Hurting you? I couldn't hurt you if I tried; you proved that two years ago.' He raised his head to look down into the green-gold eyes staring up at him, the pupils big and dilated. 'And I told you before, physical force is not my style. But then, we both know you are enjoying this as much as me, don't we?' His fingers casually brushed the soft swell of her breasts, her nipples taut and hard under the cotton top she was wearing, and she knew her body was giving the 'go' signal in a manner as old as time.
'I can't touch your heart—if you have one,' he added cynically. 'But I can find out if taking you now will get rid of the annoying physical desire I have for your body.'
He made it sound as unimportant as if he were trying out a new remedy for an irritating attack of influenza, and as his mouth sought hers again, impatiently now, she began to fight him with all her might, twisting and turning in earnest as the hurt and pain and humiliation cut deep. She couldn't give in—must not.
'I don't want this, Hudson,' she panted desperately as she tried to roll from under the powerfully muscled frame holding hers so securely. 'I want you to stop. Do you hear me?'
'Why?' There was desire in his face—she could read that all too clearly in the dark red colour flaring across the high cheekbones and the naked hunger in his eyes—but the softness, the gentleness, the caring that had characterised his dealings with her in the past was totally absent. 'And why should it concern me what you want anyway?' he added cruelly. 'I haven't exactly noticed tears of regret and remorse for your conduct in the past.'
If only he knew—oh, if only he knew how much she had cried…
'If you behave like a cheap tease, or worse, then you should expect to be treated like one; isn't that the way it goes?' he suggested with chilling softness. 'I want you, Annie, and you want me—your body is telling me that, whatever your mouth says to the contrary. I've waited two years; I'm not prepar
ed to wait a moment longer. And, however many others there've been, you'll remember this time.'
'I haven't slept around; you're making a mistake,' she gabbled frantically as he made to lower his head again. She dared not let him kiss her again because she knew, to her shame, that she wouldn't be able to resist him if he began to make love to her a second time.
Her breasts were still tight and heavy and begging for his touch, and the dull, sweet ache at the core of her that had grown into a wild, hot pain was almost too powerful to resist She was fighting herself as much as him—more, maybe—and it was that which was frightening her to death. If she was joined to him, in tody as well as heart, she wouldn't be able to let him walk away without telling him the truth; she knew it. She wouldn't be able to bear it.
'I don't believe you.' His eyes were on her lips, their dark grey depths glittering and sensuous. 'You're lying, sweet Annie.'
'No, I'm not' She was crying now, tears of pain and desire and love. 'There… there hasn't been anyone. I've never… I didn't sleep with… with him, with anyone—'
'You ran away with him, disappeared for months on end without a word to anyone, and you expect me to believe you weren't living together?' he asked incredulously. 'What the hell do you take me for?' But he had raised himself slightly, the menacingly male body no longer touching her softness.
'That's how it was.' She had to think quickly, provide some reason—some excuse—that would let him still believe she had left him for someone else but that she wasn't available for a light affair with every Tom, Dick or Harry, as he seemed to assume.
'And Keith?' he asked grimly. 'What about him?'
'I told you, we're just friends.' She tried to dry her tears with her fingertips, her hands trembling. 'It's the truth, Hudson.'
