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'Oh, no,' Dex drawled. 'Not until I have made you swallow your lies.'
Beth's eyes rounded as he suddenly drew her against him, one hand sliding around her tiny waist, the other cupping the back of her head.
'I don't lie,' she croaked, just as his mouth covered hers and his hand tightened on her waist. His thrusting tongue searched the moist cavern of her mouth with a sensual ease that overcame her pathetic attempt to resist him in an instant. Her tongue touched his and white-hot passion sent the blood pounding through her veins.
When his mouth finally lifted from hers, she moaned and stared helplessly up at him, her lips parted, red and pouting, her lower body pressing into his hard thighs with a desire she could not disguise.
Dex smiled, a devastatingly wicked twist of his mobile mouth. 'Force? I think not, my sweet Beth. You are mine for the taking,' he said in a dry voice.
Where she got the strength to push him away, she did not know. Maybe it was just one humiliation too much for her pride to take. But shove him away she did.
'So m
aybe "force" was too strong a word,' she said in a surprisingly calm voice, when her insides were shaking. 'But if you didn't force me, you certainly coerced me.'
'And you loved every minute. I have your claw-marks on my back to prove it,' he drawled silkily.
'Maybe so, but it was just sex, and I will probably have sex with a lot more men in the future. No big deal,' she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
She shot a quick glance at his face, and to her surprise she saw guilt and some other indefinable emotion on his harshly handsome features.
'Your prerogative, of course. You're a beautiful girl, and you obviously have a talent for sex. But—'
'Thank you,' she cut in sharply, with a voice dripping in sarcasm. He thought she had a talent for sex. Was that supposed to be a compliment? A red haze of rage blurred her vision. 'But I don't need your no doubt expert opinion. I simply need you to leave. What was it you said so crudely earlier? "I didn't know whether to jilt you or jump you." But it wasn't quite like that, was it, Mr High-and-Mighty-Giordanni? You jumped me, but I've been trying for the past two hours to jilt you, and for a sophisticated man you're being remarkably obtuse—you just will not get the message.'
'I got your message long ago, Beth. You're a gold-digging little tease.' He squared his massive shoulders, his silver eyes narrowed on her lovely face. 'Hanging on to your virginity as a bankable asset, hoping to sell yourself to the wealthiest bidder. But this time you tried it on with the wrong man.'
His last insult was too much for Beth's fragile self- control. Shaking with fury, she raised her arm and landed a cracking slap on his tanned cheek with the palm of her hand.
'Take that, you bastard, and get out,' she spat.
Dex lifted a large hand to rub the side of his face; with his other hand he clasped her wrist in an iron grip. The air crackled with undisguised animosity. She must have been insane to have ever felt she loved this man, she thought, as she furiously stared into his eyes.
'If you were a man I would kill you,' Dex offered, with a silky menace that made her blood run cold. 'But, in the circumstances, given your emotional state, I will allow you the one slap.'
Magnanimous swine. . . He would "allow" her. . . It was the final straw for Beth. Her head ached, her heart ached, her throat ached with the effort of holding back the tears. If Dex didn't leave in a minute, she would break down.
Her shoulders slumped, her head bent and she muttered desolately, 'Please get out.' Amazingly, when Beth lifted her head again, it was to see Dex walking to the front door, and with some spark of her pride rising in her exhausted brain, she yelled, 'Take your ring with you. It's around there somewhere.'
With a sense of déjà vue she watched as Dex once again turned around in the doorway. His eyes flicked briefly over her, his face a mask of total indifference. 'You keep it, Beth.' And with a flippant shrug of his broad shoulders, he added, 'You've earned it now.' With that parting shot, he walked out of her apartment and out of her life. Or so Beth thought. . .
* * *
Horrified, Beth looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Oh, my God! I can't go to work looking like this. Her eyes were red-rimmed and sore, her lips still swollen from Dex's kisses. She looked an absolute mess. Hardly surprising, she thought bitterly, she hadn't slept a wink. After Dex had left, the tears she had held at bay for what had seemed like an eternity had started to fall.
Giving in to her grief, she had cried until she'd thought she had no tears left. Then she had taken a long, vigorous shower, determined to wash every trace of Dex from her flesh, and had tried to go to bed. But the sight of her rumpled bed, the scent of Dex lingering on the bed linen, had brought on a fresh bout of tears. Eventually she had curled up in her armchair and stared sightlessly into the dark living room, remembering every smile, every touch, every single second she had spent with Dex. Every lying word. . .
For once in her life Beth had been able to appreciate her wayward mother. If Leanora had suffered like this at every break-up, she must have the heart of a lion. Beth had never felt pain like it, had never realised mental pain could be so powerful. . . Her chest physically ached, her stomach churned, but, worse, her faith in herself as a woman, a valued human being, was almost destroyed. Dexter Giordanni had taken away her confidence, along with her virginity, by his deceit. She'd curled up in a small ball in the chair, hugging her knees, and wished she was dead.
The chiming of a clock in the distance had finally roused her from the well of self-pity and anguish. Six in the morning. Brushing the mass of hair from her eyes, she had got stiffly out of the chair and went to the bathroom.
Beth grimaced at her reflection once more, and headed for the bedroom. Her heart squeezed at the sight of her bed, the covers a tangled mass, as she had left them last night. From somewhere she got the strength to rip off all the linen and shove it into the wicker basket in the bathroom. She refused to recognise the musky scent of their lovemaking, or the lingering trace of Dex's aftershave on the sheets. Five minutes later, she'd dressed in a plain black skirt and yellow sweater and was marching into the kitchen.
Hadn't she read somewhere that a slice of raw potato on one's eyes revitalised them? Quickly making a cup of coffee, she gulped it down, and then, finding a potato in the vegetable rack, she sliced it. Returning to the living room, she sank down into the armchair and plopped the two pieces of potato on her eyes. The tiniest hint of a smile twitched her full lips as she imagined what she must look like, and suddenly she realised that life must go on, and that it could be good again. She would laugh again. Maybe it would take a while—not maybe, certainly. But she was not about to let a man like Dexter Giordanni destroy her life.
Her determination was sorely tested when she walked into the building that housed the offices of Canary Characters. Every employer had to sign in as a security precaution, and as soon as Beth leaned over the reception desk to do just that, Lizzie, the receptionist, noticed Beth was not wearing her ring.
'Hi, Beth. Lost the rock already?' Lizzie asked jokingly.
