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'Sorry, where are we now?' she asked, stumbling to her feet.
'Corner of Leceister Square.'
'That's fine, thank you,' she murmured, brushing past him and stepping off the bus.
Beth looked around at the hordes of people, the flashing neon signs, and had never felt so alone in her life. She dearly wanted to cry, but she knew she couldn't. Not yet. She had nowhere to go except home, and if Dex wasn't waiting he would certainly call her. He was not the sort of man any woman stood up. She needed to have a plan, an excuse, some way to get rid of him without revealing what she knew. Pride alone would not let her behave any other way, and her pride was all she had left.
CHAPTER FIVE
Stepping out of the tube station into the cool night air, Beth stiffened her shoulders and walked the short distance to her apartment building. She looked neither right nor left, her whole attention concentrated on the plan she had formed in her mind on the journey home. Her despair, after the destruction of all her hopes and dreams, had been replaced for the moment with an ice-cold fury.
No way was she going to tell Dex that Paul was her godfather; the swine and his sister could stew in hell for all she cared! They would find out eventually, no doubt, but certainly not from her.
'Where the hell have you been?' She was suddenly stopped in her tracks by a furiously angry Dex. His large hands grabbed her by the shoulders, and for a second she feared he was going to shake the life out of her. 'I have been sitting in the car for over four hours, waiting for you and being worried sick. Black told me you called at the club.'
She looked up into his darkly attractive face. The orange light of the street lamp cast flickering shadows over his chiselled features, and for an instant she actually thought she saw a shimmer of genuine worry in his steely eyes, but she was not fooled by it.
'Yes, I did, but what are you doing here? Didn't you get my note?' she managed to ask with a quizzical arch of one delicate brow, in an acting performance that would have done credit to a Hollywood movie star. . .
'Note? What note? What the hell are you talking about?' he growled. 'And why am I having this conversation in the street?'
Beth was wondering the same; if she didn't sit down she would fall down, or worse, fall into his arms. His hands kneading her shoulders were playing havoc with her nerve-endings, and even though she knew he was a manipulative devil it didn't alter the fact that he was wickedly attractive.
'For God's sake, give me your key and let's get inside. This is not how I envisaged our reunion at all. I thought I told you to wait for me.'
His comment reminded her of his arrogant assumption to his friend—'This particular girl won't mind waiting'—and that was enough to stiffen her resolve.
'If you let go of me, I will,' she snapped. His hands fell from her shoulders, and she stepped back and silently withdrew the key from her purse and handed it to him.
He glanced down into her cool face. 'You look. . .' He stopped, his gaze piercingly intent. 'Never mind, it'll keep.' And he urged her inside the building and into her apartment without saying another word.
Beth could feel the tension simmering in the air between them, and when Dex's arm reached across her she shrank back, afraid he was going to grab her again.
Instead, with a sardonic arch of one dark brow, he drawled, 'Excuse me—unless you prefer the dark,' and switched on the light, slamming the door behind them.
Trying to behave naturally, when Beth's basic instinct was to turn on him like a howling banshee, took every ounce of self-control she possessed, but she succeeded. She walked into the centre of the room and, taking a deep breath, slowly turned to face him.
'Coffee, tea, something stronger?' she suggested, forcing a polite smile to her stiff lips. Dex was leaning against the closed door, his dark blue suit jacket hanging open, his tie pulled loose and the top few buttons of his silk shirt unbuttoned. He looked dishevelled and absolutely furious.
'I do not want a drink.' He straightened up and moved towards her, stopping only inches away. 'I want some answers, cara—my sweet fiancée.' He glared down at her and there was nothing in the least sweet about his expression.
'Well, I want a drink,' she said calmly, turning towards the kitchen door. 'Take a seat. I won't be long.'
'Oh, no, you don't!' A strong masculine hand encircled her upper arm, and suddenly she was spun back round to face him.
Her green eyes clashed with his, and something sinister flickered in the depths of his grey eyes that made her shiver with alarm. 'Please, let go of me,' she told him, trying to ignore the way her heart was thudding as he stood so close to her.
'I would never intentionally hurt you, Beth,' Dex declared silkily, and with slow deliberation he released her arm and slid his hands up to her shoulders, impelling her forward. 'Never,' he reiterated throatily.
His black head bent towards her and dumbly she watched, knowing he was going to kiss her, and unable to move. Then his mouth took hers in a forceful, demanding kiss. Beth clenched her teeth against his intended invasion. A silent moan of rejection rose and died in her throat beneath the relentless pressure of his mouth. His hands slid down her back and effortlessly brought her even closer against his masculine frame. Try as she might to remain cold and unresponsive in his arms, there was nothing she could do to prevent her wayward body melting against his hard length.
A soundless gasp escaped her lips, and, taking full advantage, his tongue sought the moist interior of her mouth with a coaxing, seductive sensuality that made her mind spin. Her eyes closed as he easily overcame her futile attempt to resist, and helplessly she kissed him back.
When Dex finally released her, she swayed and almost fell, but with a husky oath he curved a long arm around her waist and firm fingers lifted her chin.
'I should have kissed you first,' he opined, with a hint of arrogance in his smile, 'instead of shouting at you. I am sure you have a simple explanation. Forgive me.'
His grey-eyed gaze had changed from menacing anger to smug complacency at her submission, Beth noted bitterly. Forgive him! She wanted to kill him, and, swiftly lowering her lashes to hide the anger and humiliation she knew he would see in their depths, she began her well-rehearsed speech.
