Page 14 of Gamble On Passion


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'And you're always successful, if the Press is to be believed,' she flung back tautly, and saw his eyes narrow fractionally in a brief flash of anger.

'I was with you!' he shot back mockingly, and, cap­turing her chin in one of his hands, he turned her face towards his. For a long moment his intent gaze lingered over her beautiful features.

Jacy stiffened with tension and, paradoxically, some­thing more—a heady anticipation of the kiss she was sure was to follow. But she was wrong.

Leo, holding her eyes with his, declared arrogantly, 'And I will be again, and we both know it.' One long finger mockingly tapped her full lips as he added, 'But I'm not so crass that I can't appreciate a little conver­sation over a fine bottle of champagne first... To old friends, together...' He raised his glass and drank. 'Join me, hmm?'

It was the together that bothered her. With his mus­cular thigh pressed against hers and the warmth of his hand cupping her chin, it was oh, so easy to forget how he had hurt her and to relax into his masculine warmth. But his conceited conviction that she would fall into his arms like a ripe plum stiffened her resolve to teach him a lesson. 'I seem to remember your saying the other night that you had a month in town and fancied a good time.' She drawled the last two words deliberately. 'Old friends we are not... Or is this another ploy in your subtle per­suasion technique?'

'What do you think?' he asked sardonically, his hand falling from her face. He reached out and picked up the wine bottle, and topped up both their glasses. 'And while you're considering, how about a different toast?' Of­fering her a glass, he raised his own. 'To old lovers and new friends,' he drawled mockingly.

'Possible friends,' she amended lightly, and sipped the wine.

'Possibly a friend, but certainly a lover... Yes, I'll drink to that.' Leo drained his glass and replaced it on the table, and, turning sideways on the sofa, his fingers brushed hers as he took the empty glass from her hand and put it down with the other.

Fury or fervour flooded her face at the picture his words evoked. She closed her eyes briefly, fighting for control of her wayward emotions. She wanted to slap his mocking features and yet he only had to touch her to set every cell in her body alight.

'Blushing, Jacy? You're an odd girl—beautiful, in­telligent, and yet at times tonight, and now this minute, you look like the shy young teenager I once knew.' His brown eyes smouldered with a deepening gleam as they held hers captive. 'Odd, I know. You are an intrepid investigator for your firm and have travelled world-wide for them. India, wasn't it, last month? And you uncovered some chemical-factory arson?'

Jacy's eyes widened in amazement. 'How did you know that?' she blurted unthinkingly.

'I had you investigated. A man in my position can't be too careful,' he said with dry cynicism. 'You may not have followed your father into journalism, but you have obviously inherited his investigative instincts. One would hope with more honesty...'

She was on her feet in a flash, fury winning. 'How dare you have me investigated? Of all the bloody nerve! Do you do that with all your dates? My God, it must be an expensive exercise.' She couldn't believe the aud­acity of the man, or his snide remark about her father.

'Calm down, Jacy.' Rising to his feet, he grasped her upper arm. 'It was nothing personal.'

'Nothing personal?' she parrotted. 'Delving into my private life!'

A cynical grin spread over his handsome face. 'Ac­tually, I didn't have much luck there. You appear to be very discreet with your lovers—a good thing. But I am curious as to how a young woman can afford a house to herself in central London. You must have had some wealthy bedfellows.'

'Get out, just get out,' she cried, her temper ex­ploding. He still thought of her as little better than a whore and yet he was quite happy to make love to her as a brief diversion while he was in London. If she had needed further proof of what an immoral swine he was, he had just supplied it. She swung her free arm up to swipe his grinning face, but he caught her wrist in mid­air, his long fingers digging into her flesh.

'Such passion should be reserved for the bedroom, Jacy.' And he actually had the gall to laugh. 'Come on... You're a woman of the world, and we both know the score. I don't mind a little feminine reluctance for mod­esty's sake, but violence-' his grip relaxed slightly on her arm '—isn't my scene, so quit pretending. And don't worry, sweetheart, you won't find me ungenerous...'

His black head descended while she was speechless with rage at his assumption and conceit. But it didn't stop her heart-beat accelerating until it shot out of control as his mouth took hers in a deep, hard kiss. She closed her eyes helplessly, and subtly the kiss changed as he felt her surrender to a long and languorous se­duction of her senses, filling her with a warmth that made her mind spin. She only regained her senses as he drew back, and she felt herself swept off her feet.

'Put me down.' She began to struggle so he complied, dropping her on to the sofa and following her down. She lay winded for a second—and Leo wasn't even breathing heavily, she noted bitterly. But then he was a superbly fit male, it was evident in every move he made. He sat on the edge of the sofa, one arm along the back and the other placed firmly on her breast-bone, pinning her down.

'I find your behaviour intriguing,' he pondered, and the very softness of his tone sounded like a threat to Jacy's overstretched nerves. His dark head bent lower and the musky male scent of him teased her nostrils as his mouth covered hers yet again. She was helpless to resist the potent intimacy of his kiss, and slowly all the anger drained out of her, to be replaced with a burning frustration. She wanted to reach up to him, stroke the close-cropped hair, bury her head in the warmth of his neck. But with a terrific effort of will she kept her hands at her sides, her fingers curling into fists.

He raised his head, his brown eyes speculative on her flushed face and desire-hazed eyes. I could make love to you now; I could have you begging in minutes.' He traced the soft curve of her breast and watched her tremble helplessly. 'But tell me, I'm curious. Why did you accept my invitation? I made it obvious I wanted you. We are two consenting adults, and yet you're trying your utmost to pretend indifference...' He glanced at her clenched fists. 'Why?' he demanded hardly.

She made no response. She couldn't, she was fighting to control the heavy thumping of her heart.

'It's been apparent all evening that you can barely hide your resentment,' he tagged on musingly.

She lowered her lashes over her golden eyes to mask her expression from the far too astute Leo. Fool, she thought hollowly. Revenge was a stupid idea, and she was far too aware of the man for her little plot ever to have worked. Forcing herself to think sensibly for the first time in half an hour, she hit on the solution for her erratic behaviour and a way to get rid of Leo all in one go. Raising her eyes, she looked up into his dark, knowl­edgeable face.

'I'm sorry, Leo. I should have cancelled our date.' She hesitated. 'A touch of PMT the past couple of days, and now...' She let her voice trail off...

'You poor darling, you should have told me.' And she was instantly enfolded in his strong arms, her head pressed against his broad chest in a comforting hug. Then he eased her back on the soft cushions, and his brown eyes gleamed down on her small face.

She had to suppress the hysterical laughter that bubbled in her throat at the look of tenderness tinged with pure masculine relief in his expression. 'Stay where you are and I'll make you a hot

drink... Then I'll call a cab. All right?'

She smiled her thanks. His easy acceptance of her excuse was comical. But so like Leo—his ego couldn't stand the thought of any woman refusing him; it was much simpler for him to accept that it was the wrong time of the month for her. God, but the man's ego was monumental, Jacy thought wryly, sinking gratefully into the sofa. It might even be interesting to see how he would avoid making a date with her for the next week. He was a man of carnal appetites, and as she was out of com­mission he would have to find his relief some­where else...

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