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He dropped his embrace, took her hand, and led her across the living room and down the hall he had entered earlier. He stopped at a door, opened it, and took her into a large bedroom. Nicole barely noticed the bed. Beyond it was another wall of glass but her gaze was not drawn to yet another view of Sydney Harbour. It was instantly captivated by what was set up in front of the middle window.
The glass butterfly had been placed on a pedestal and spotlighted by a lamp shining up behind it and turning the wings into a stunning fluorescent blue.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NO DOUBT about it, Quin thought triumphantly. As a tactic to crack Nicole’s wall of indifference to him, placing the blue butterfly centre stage and spotlighting it was an act of pure genius. Gone was the submissive sex slave. She spun to face him in full frontal attack, her green eyes shooting furious sparks, outrage pumping through her, shoulders back, breasts lifting, and if her taut nipples had been pistols, there would probably be blood on the floor right now.
“What do you think you’re playing at?”
Definitely a kill note in her voice.
“It’s a beautiful piece,” he stated calmly. “It should be displayed like that. Why are you upset by it?”
“You did it deliberately.”
Violent accusation.
“Yes, I did,” Quin agreed. “I wanted to get the best effect.”
“Since when have you been interested in doing home decoration?”
Blistering scorn.
He smiled. “You inspired me to start tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because it means something to you.”
“No, it doesn’t!” she denied heatedly, her hands clenching, her need to fight the point making Quin all the more certain he’d hit on a highly vulnerable area in her current life.
“Then it shouldn’t be upsetting you, Nicole. My aim was to give you pleasure.”
“Pleasure!”
The fury in her eyes whirled into confusion, followed by flickers of fear at having reacted too strongly, consequently revealing there was far more to the issue of the butterfly than she wanted him to know.
“Pleasure beyond what we share in bed,” he said silkily, moving in to claim what she owed him, taking her in his embrace, ignoring the stiff resistance of her body as he pressed his to it. “It’s something beautiful for you to look at tonight. And when you wake in the morning.”
Her hands were still clenched at her sides. Her eyes burned with an angry hatred. There was nothing cool and detached about her now. Why she should hate him, he didn’t know, but hate was infinitely better than indifference. Quin sensed she was steaming inside, wanting to lash out at him, and he exulted in having stirred so much volatile emotion. He didn’t want a passive Nicole in bed. He wanted the passionate Nicole who’d left an indelible imprint on his memory.
“Bed,” she bit out, pouring a mountain of venom into the word. “Right! Let’s get to it!”
He laughed at her boiling impatience to get it over and done with. “Not so fast, Nicole. We haven’t even kissed yet.”
“Not a good idea, Quin,” she flashed back at him. “I might bite your tongue out.”
“I think I’ll risk it anyhow.”
“Whores don’t kiss.”
“You’re no whore, Nicole. The money is totally irrelevant to what pulses between us.”
“That’s your ego talking, Quin. I wouldn’t be here but for the money.”
“Okay. Then give me my money’s worth.” He whipped a hand up to cup her chin, holding her face so she couldn’t turn it away. “Use your tongue for something other than talking.”
She opened her mouth to speak again and he swooped on it, his own passions aroused by her refusal to acknowledge the powerful chemistry between them. He kissed her hard, determined on crashing through any resistance.
