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'It was the kitchen door; I raided your refrigerator. Drink?'
Then she saw the half-empty bottle of wine on the mantlepiece and another glass. 'You—but. . .' Her mouth worked but she was too confused to get the words out.
'Sit down, Beth. Have a drink and listen. You asked me before why I called around here earlier. Before you decided you wished I was dead,' he reminded her cynically.
Looking down, she felt a brief flicker of shame, but it quickly expired as she watched him casually withdraw his hand from his pocket and pick up the other glass of wine from the mantlepiece. Stepping forward, he held it out towards her. 'Drink. You might need it.'
She was so surprised, she automatically reached out and took the glass. His long fingers brushed hers and she felt the contact right through to her shoulder.
'Why?' she muttered. She had suffered shock upon shock tonight, and her brain could not take it in.
'The simple answer is, I have a proposal for you.'
Taking a sip from her drink, she glanced over the rim of her glass. 'Go ahead,' she murmured. 'You will, anyway.' The cold determination in his grey eyes as they met hers was unmistakable.
'Usually I visit London twice a year at most, but since acquiring the casino—and more recently a trio of city centre hotels—I find I am going to have to spend a lot more time here. I'm a normal man, with normal needs, and I need a woman here. I want you to be that woman.'
Confused, she surveyed him. 'But I told you. I don't want to marry you.'
One dark brow arched quizzically, a ruthless smile curving his sensuous mouth. 'No more than I want to marry you. In fact, if you recall, I never actually asked you. I gave you a ring, a bauble. That was all.'
Embarrassment turned her face scarlet. Her only consolation was that at last he was speaking the truth. She had overheard him saying pretty much the same thing in the office that dreadful day. Forcing her turbulent thoughts into some kind of order, she tilted her head back and looked at him sharply.
Unease stirred inside her. There was something sinister in his austere features. 'I don't understand.' She shook her head. 'What do you mean?'
'Let me make it simple for you. I have bought an apartment in London and I want you to live in it. You can continue with your career—whatever. My only stipulation is, when I am in London you make yourself available at my convenience.'
Beth stared at him, her strained features reflecting her shock. Dex, the man she had thought she loved, was quite cold-bloodedly suggesting she live with him, albeit on a part-time basis. If she had not been so horrified, she would have been furious.
She searched Dex's harshly set features. He looked just as she imagined he would look when buying a casino or a company. His arrogance, his enormous conceit, took her breath away. But she was not in the market. Not for Dex. Not for any man.
Suddenly the black humour of the situation hit her. Of course she could see through his plan. Install Beth in his apartment and keep her away from Paul Morris. Obviously his sister was having some difficulty bringing Paul to heel.
'Why me?' she asked, wondering what kind of story he would come up with. She was sure it would not be the truth.
'I find after having had one bite of the cherry I have a burning desire to cultivate the rest of the tree,' he returned softly.
Beth had to repress a smile. He wasn't serious; he was simply trying it on. 'For a man whose first language isn't English, you have a great line in metaphors,' she quipped, letting the smile break through. Dex had wit, even if he was a devious devil.
But there was no corresponding smile from Dex. Instead he stepped towards her, a ruthless determination glinting in his narrowed eyes. 'So, is it a deal?'
It was unthinkable, but he actually was serious. Her body frozen with shock, Beth's eyes searched his face, looking for some indication that it was a joke. A Hallowe'en prank, maybe. But she could see nothing in his expression to allay her fear—fear for herself, because for a brief moment she had been tempted. The thought of once more experiencing the delights his magnificent body could give her had stirred an unwanted response inside her.
'No,' she said softly, whether denying herself or Dex, she wasn't sure. Then, as fury at his insulting proposition overcame her shock, she repeated forcefully, 'No! No, never in a million years!'
'So adamant, and so wrong.' His hand reached out and circled her throat, tilting her head up, and his eyes narrowed. 'I can feel the pulse beating madly in your throat. However much you try to hide it, you want me. You melt when I touch you. It is the same for me. Our relationship will be a mutually fulfilling affair.'
She opened her mouth to deny it and his dark head bent, his mouth taking hers. She shuddered beneath the hot, forceful passion of his kiss, desire and disgust battling inside her, and only dimly registered his words as he took his mouth from hers.
'You can't help yourself.' His silver eyes challenged her to deny him.
'Oh, but I can.' she shot back, and, shoving him hard in the chest, she continued, 'You can take yourself and your filthy proposition out of my apartment, and don't come back.' Swinging on her heel, she marched to the door.
'Wait, Beth. I have not finished.'
'Well, I have. In fact, I finished with you two weeks ago, and nothing has changed.'
'But situations do change, Beth.' He strolled towards where she stood at the door. 'Your stepbrother, for instance, he's gained a promotion, a much better salary and a fiancée, I believe, all in a couple of weeks.'
