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'No. I mean, I thought. . .' She was stumbling over her words, but he sounded so chillingly remote that she had no idea how to continue.
'Don't try to think. I've had quite enough of your machiavellian thoughts for one day,' he informed her hardly. 'Dr Lark saw to that.'
'That's what I wanted to talk about—I meanI didn't ' She could not find the words 'set out to seduce you'; after all, she had. How could she explain that within minutes of being in his arms again her only thought had been how much she'd missed and needed him?
'For heaven's sake! Get to bed; you look worn out.'
He lifted the book and resumed reading. She was dismissed . . . Her shoulders slumped and she half turned, and then she stopped. No, damn it! She would not meekly bow out. Justin had said, 'Get to bed,' and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Swinging on her heel, her blue eyes glittering with rising excitement, she ran across to the bed. A tug of the belt at her waist and a shrug saw her towelling robe fall to the floor, and, catching the corner of the coverlet in one hand, in a second she had jumped into the wide bed.
'What the hell. . .' he roared. The book went flying through the air and the quilt slid down to his lean hips as he raised himself up against the headboard and stared down at her with a look of incredulous amazement in his dark eyes. 'What do you think you're doing?'
'You did say, "Get to bed,"' she said innocently and, turning on her side, she deliberately placed her small hand on his hard, flat stomach; she felt his muscles tense and his hand dropped to grab her wrist.
'Don't be frightened, Justin,' she prompted sweetly, mischief dancing in her eyes. For once she had surprised him and she intended to make full use of the advantage. 'I won't hurt you.'
She felt him stiffen; his fingers on her wrist tightened like a manacle and suddenly she was no longer in control. She was flat on her back with Justin looming over her.
'I will never give you the chance again,' he said harshly, flinging one long leg across her thighs, pinning her to the bed, while his hands formed a cage at either side of her head. 'I've promised you I'll try and save our son. I've agreed to divorce you. Damn it, Zoe, what else do you want from me?'
She stared up at the ruthless, dark face and the breath caught at the back of her throat. His Latin temperament had certainly broken through now, she thought, a sliver of fear racing down her spine. But he looked tired as well as angry. Dark shadows under his eyes were accentuated by the tautness of the skin over his high cheekbones.
'Answer me, damn you.'
'Nothing else,' she whispered, and, dredging up her last vestige of courage, she added, 'In fact, I don't want a divorce either. I want to stay with you—in your bed, in your life.' She felt the blood pounding in her ears; the touch of his hard, hot naked body against hers was dangerously arousing.
He reared back and surveyed her through half-closed lids. 'Am I supposed to believe that?' he asked with dry cynicism, his narrowed gaze angling down over her breasts. She felt her nipples peak in instant response, and cursed her inability to remain calm around him.
'What exactly are you after now, I wonder?' he mused, and bent slowly towards her. Shockingly his tongue licked tantalizingly over one taut nipple, before he lifted his head and added silkily, 'Or shall I guess?'
'Only you,' she breathed.
'Funny, I seem to remember last night you couldn't get rid of me quick enough, and yet last Friday you couldn't crawl into my bed fast enough.' Taunting mockery glittered in his eyes. 'I was flattered until today, when I discovered you were simply using me as a stud.'
'I'm sorry, I should have told you the truth—trusted you to do the right thing,' she freely admitted, but he was not placated.
'Yes, damn it! Yes, you should.' He swore in another flash of anger, his dark eyes burning down into hers. But as she gazed helplessly up at him, expecting the worst, he took a deep, indrawn breath, his mouth tightened and he was once more in c
ontrol.
'I've had time to think about it and in fairness I can't condemn you for using me; I don't like it, but you had the best reason in the world—Val.' He moved his leg slowly, tantalisingly up her thigh, still holding her gaze.
'But now, tonight, you say you want me. Odd, this, from a wife who ran off with another man. For a wife I haven't seen for years. For a wife who forced herself to sleep with me for the sake of a child.'
There was derision in his face as his hard eyes swept down over her, inspecting her nakedness as she lay beneath him, then back to her wide, luminous blue eyes. 'I'm not a complete idiot, Zoe. Come on, tell me. Why?'
His distrust was only to be expected, she thought. God knew, she had shown little enough trust in him during their brief marriage; a bit of bitchy gossip and the drunken ravings of an ex-girlfriend and she had taken flight. She had no intention of making the same mistake again. But where to start? The beginning, perhaps. It meant baring her soul, leaving herself open to his ridicule, but she was going to try.
'Because I love you; I've always loved you,' she said bravely, reaching up to lay her hand on his broad chest. He looked very big, very remote, but she felt the heavy thump of his heart beneath her fingertips, and noted a betraying flicker of his long eyelashes; it gave her hope and then he smiled, and a frisson of fear darted up her spine.
'And I am supposed to believe you, and clasp you to my manly chest? Is that why you're here?'
The mockery in his deep voice was evident, but she refused to be cowed by it. 'No, I don't expect you to believe me, but I fully intend to convince you eventually,' she said boldly, hiding her fear. 'You're a very large man, very strong—to some people your power might be intimidating, but it never was to me.'
Her face was somber, her voice low. 'I remember the first time we met and you held me on your lap and dried my tears. You were my gentle giant, and I had a terrible crush on you. By my eighteenth birthday party, the crush had changed to love, and I wanted you so badly.'
He sent her a sharp glance, and smiled without humour. 'Not that badly—you were terrified when I kissed you, touched you.'
