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'You're being ridiculous, Jake. Please... let me go.' She tried to reason, and wasn't above pleading for her release. She was more terrified than she had ever been in her life.
'Ridiculous! I was once, you lying little bitch. My God! You even made me feel guilty with your apologetic plea that you were too young for commitment. You wanted to see the world. When all the time you thought I was a womanising rogue. I waited two years for you. Give her time to grow, let her have a fling with people her own age, I told myself, and then you laughed in my face. Well, by God! Tonight you have laughed for the last time; you're grown up now. Your exploits are well-known, and tonight it's my turn for some of the action. You sure as hell owe me. You used me to get rid of your cumbersome virginity and then I wasn't worthy to touch your saintly body. What a joke... Now any man can have you for a price...' His dark eyes narrowed on her pale face, and his hand curved around her bare shoulder as with a jerk he pulled her hard against him.
He was wrong, so wrong; she had to tell him before this went any further. She raised her face to his, and the merciless expression in his dark eyes seemed to burn into her soul. He was pitiless in his rage and looked capable of anything. Her body was trembling so much that she could hardly control it. Nervously she ran the tip of her tongue over dry lips. 'Please-----'
He did not let her finish. His dark head lowered and he brought his mouth down with punishing ferocity upon hers, forcing her lips apart, plundering the soft inner tissue until she tasted the sweetness of her own blood on her tongue. It was no lover's kiss, but a kiss of angry, savage possession.
His hand at her back, holding her wrists, forced her against his muscled thighs. She felt the hard potency of his masculine arousal, and an unwanted flood of sexual awareness consumed her trembling body. She tried to resist the shattering sensual impact, but when his other hand slid from her shoulder to cup one full breast a shaft of arrowing excitement seemed to shoot from her breast to her loins.
She whimpered low in her throat, and as though it was a signal Jake had been waiting for his mouth eased on hers, and his hand released her wrists to curve around her waist and bend her back over his arm.
Katy knew she could break free, but his fingers had found the pert pink tip of her breast and plucked gently, bringing it to a tight hard nub of aching desire. His hand roamed tauntingly from one creamy mound to the other, and she was delirious with the pleasure he gave
. His mouth grazed her throat, and her back arched in willing anticipation of the feel of his mouth on her sensitive breasts.
Her slender arms of their own volition slid up and under his open shirt to cling shamelessly to his broad shoulders.
Jake growled deep in his throat and swung her up into his strong arms. His mouth spread a trail of fire down her throat and lower to capture one hard nipple between his teeth.
It had been too long since she had been in a man's arms. Jake's arms. Since she had felt the fierce pleasure of sexual arousal, and Jake had seduced her utterly. She made no demur as he laid her on the bed, and came down beside her, pulling her robe free from under her body.
His mouth found hers and this time she parted her lips willingly, welcoming, wanting his kiss and more, much more.
He lifted his dark head, and, supporting himself on one elbow, raked her naked body with black glittering eyes. With one long finger he gently outlined her love-swollen pouting lips. 'You're beautiful; a total wanton, but beautiful. How could any man resist what you offer so freely?' His hand trailed lower to cover her breast. But his throatily voiced comment acted like a douche of cold water on Katy's overheated senses.
She stared up at his handsome face. He was studying her naked body like a connoisseur of fine art. She recognised the gleaming triumph in his dark, passion-filled eyes, and turned her head away. How could she have been so stupid? Such a push-over?
Her eyes lighted on the bedside clock, and in that instant she knew what she had to do.
'Not freely, Jake, darling,' and before he could register her words she had slid off the bed and picked up her robe. If it had not been so shameful she could have laughed at the look of stunned amazement on his flushed face. 'It is after two o'clock, Jake. Your time is up.' He thought she was a whore, so she might as well act like one. Gathering every scrap of self-control she could muster, she sauntered across to the door and walked out.
She had stepped about two paces into the sitting-room when Jake caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and flung her round to face him. 'How could you do that to me?' He caught her hand and forced it down to his thighs. 'You can't leave me like this, you bitch.'
Brazenly she faced him, though she was shaking inside with fear and repressed sexual desire. 'Well,' her hand trembled on his arousal, but she forced herself to continue, 'do you carry five hundred in loose change? I don't take credit cards.'
For one terrifying moment she thought he was going to hit her. He raised his hand, his black eyes spitting fire, then abruptly he shoved her away, and, turning on his heel, went back into the bedroom.
Katy slowly crossed to the long velvet sofa and sank into the soft cushions. She had caught a glimpse of something so terrible in his eyes as he had turned from her. She knew without a doubt he would never bother her again.
She watched as he returned, shrugging on his jacket. She lowered her head, unable to stand the disgust, the look of icy contempt in his dark eyes. She was unaware of his step towards her, or the flash of anguished regret that contorted his handsome face. She only heard the closing of the door as he walked out of the suite without saying a word.
Katy's head fell back against the soft cushions and a long-drawn-out sigh escaped her. Jake had gone, thank God! She had just put on the greatest act of her life, and he had fallen for it. She should have been pleased, but despairingly she recognised that one minute longer and she would have collapsed at Jake's feet, begging him to take her.
Moisture glazed her huge green eyes and slowly a tear trickled down her soft cheek. Self-pity was an unenviable emotion, but tonight she could not help herself. Why? Why? her heart cried. Of all the men she had ever met, Jake and only Jake was the one man to awaken the sensuous side of her nature to a fever-pitch of wanting. Tonight had taught her a hard lesson.
For years she had convinced herself she hated Jake, but sadly now she was forced to face the truth. It was not love; it couldn't be—she despised the man—but the chemistry, the want, the explosion of feelings his presence aroused in her was never going to go away.
It was something she was going to have to learn to accept and live with. Choking back a sob, she lifted her hands and rubbed the tears from her eyes. Rising from the sofa, she walked into the bedroom. Her heart squeezed in a spasm of pain as her glance rested on the rumpled bed, the image of herself and Jake barely fifteen minutes ago, locked in a passionate embrace, vivid in her mind.
She turned her back on the bed and the memories it invoked and, picking up the towel that had dropped from her hair earlier, she moved to the dressing-table and sat down on the low stool. Determinedly she began rubbing her hair dry. Massaging her scalp had a therapeutic effect on her overwrought nerves, and, finally dropping the towel, she picked up a comb and with grim determination began combing the damp tangle of her hair into some semblance of order.
Thinking clearly for the first time in hours, she began to question Jake's motive in bidding for a dinner date with her. True, if he had asked her for a date in the conventional way she would have refused. But any time in the past two years he could have seen her at any of the well-publicised shows and parties she attended.
He was a very powerful man with an entree in all levels of society. He knew her well enough to know she would never have caused a scene. So why go to the trouble of bidding for what he must have known was going to be a very public date with photographers in attendance? It didn't make sense...
Jake Granton was notorious for avoiding publicity; he was rarely mentioned except in business articles in the serious newspapers, and it was rare to see a photograph of the man or any mention of his private life in the popular media. God knew, she had looked!
In four years Katy had only seen one article about Jake in an Italian glossy. Her full lips quirked in the semblance of a smile. She had spent the whole evening in her hotel room in Rome, trying to decipher the same article with her limited knowledge of Italian. What a fool} she thought wryly.
