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'Of course,' she murmured. They were talking like two strangers, stilted and polite. But Alex was a stranger to her, she thought with sad irony. Now she knew his body, but the man. . . villain or virtuous?. . . she would never know, and—please, God!—that fact alone would some day kill this hopeless love she felt for him, and set her free.
Closing her eyes, she lay back; she was so tired and heartsore, she didn't want to think. She felt the gentle touch of the sponge as Alex carefully bathed her but was too exhausted to object.
Later he lifted her out, dried her tender flesh with a large white towel and then, with a rare gentleness, carried her back to the bed again. Reaction setting in, she lay like a rag doll as he covered her with the white sheet. For a second she felt his hand tremble against her cheek, but she must have imagined it as she opened her eyes to stars up into a dark face blank of all expression.
'Go to sleep; we will talk in the morning.'
Her eyelids suddenly seemed too heavy to keep open and, with a shuddering sigh, she fell asleep.
Saffron sighed, and snuggled closer into the enveloping warmth of the hard male body; the steady, rhythmic teat beneath her ear filled her with a deep sense of security and, drifting in the no man's land between sleep and wakefulness, she luxuriated in the rare feeling of utter contentment.
Her lashes flickered against the soft curve of her cheek and she stirred restlessly, reluctant to leave her safe cocoon of peace. Then memory returned and ha eyes flashed open. She blinked once, twice. The room was ht with the early morning rays of the sun, the curtains open, the sound of traffic bringing her to full consciousness.
A heavy weight pinned her to the bed, and she carefully looked down at the arm that lay across her waist, and lower to the thigh that anchored ha legs. Alex! Slowly her eyes trailed up over a male hip, waist and shoulder until she met the dark, inscrutable gaze of her husband.
'Awake at last,' he murmured softly. He was lying on his side, his elbow on the pillow to prop his head, and his eyes gleamed mockingly down at her as she tried to wriggle free from beneath his arm and leg. 'Why the hurry, Saffron? You aren't going anywhere.'
'I want to get up.'
'So do I—oh, so do I,' he chuckled.
Saffron felt the stirring of his arousal against her hip and blushed scarlet, but could not repress a shiver of reaction as he slowly and deliberately slid his hand from her waist up over her breast, throat, and to her face. He smoothed her tangled mass of red hair from her brow and, sliding his fingers through the glittering strands, spread them across the pillow.
'What time is it?' she croaked.
'Six. Plenty of time.' Alex's hand slid back down over her throat, his fingers lingering on the soft hollows. 'Last night I wanted to kill you.' His hand tightened for a second on her neck.
'No need—I'm leaving,' Saffron said, tension making her words sound harsh. Alex was too close, too overpowering and she had to get away.
As if she had never spoken he continued, 'But this morning I have a much better plan.' His hand resumed its downward journey and brushed the rosy peak of one breast then, with clever fingers, manipulated the tip to pebble-hardness.
'No.' She was protesting against both his plan and the sensual intent she saw in his dark, slumberous eyes.
'But you have not heard my plan, Saffron, my sweet,' he mocked softly, his fingers teasingly walking across to her other breast. 'I will not allow you to leave me; you can forget it. But you wanted revenge. I am half Greek; I can understand that and so you shall have it. You can spend my money how you like.' His thumb brushed back and forward over her pouting nipple, and she bit her lip to keep down the low moan of pleasure.
'I'm a reasonable man; last night I lost my temper a little, but after careful consideration nothing has changed. We both had our own reasons for this marriage. I thought yours was money, and all you have really done is prove me right.'
He sounded so cool, so sensible, and there was a horrible kind of truth in Alex's words that made Saffron cringe even as her pulse-rate leapt at his wandering hands.
'And I shall have my heir and you to play with, sweet Saffron. Whenever, however, wherever I feel like!'
She looked at him nervously, her body already responding to the promise of his, and as she loved him so she hated him for rendering her so helpless. She had not missed the threat in his words. She felt his hard thigh press down on her slender legs and, with one arm trapped under Alex's body, she was at a hopeless disadvantage, but with her free hand she clasped his wrist, trying to stop the torment he was inflicting on her swollen breasts. 'Stop.' But he simply dragged her hand with his.
'I might stop some day.' His dark eyes gleamed with sardonic amusement. 'But certainly not today, and if you were honest you would admit you don't want me to.'
Saffron glared at him bitterly; the fiend was right and he knew it. She dug her nails into the underside of his wrist, hoping to hurt him and get him to stop.
Instead one dark eyebrow rose and his lips thinned as he unhurriedly used the hand that was propping his
head to catch here and force it over the top of her head. 'Now what, Saffron?' he mocked silkily.
She shivered as his free hand returned to tormenting her swollen breasts and her green eyes, sparkling with a mixture of anger and arousal, clashed with his. 'Don't do that.' She tried to twist away from him but it was a futile gesture. Alex, stretched out beside her, his rugged face looming over her, the early morning stubble casting a shadow over his square jaw, was obviously enjoying her discomfort; it was there in the cynically smiling mouth and his cool, assessing brown eyes fixed firmly on her flushed face.
'I said anytime anywhere—my choice,' he reiterated with deadly determination. 'My money, my plaything,' he murmured as he tent his head.
She was trapped, spread out before him, one hand still under his body, the other forced over her head and pinned to the pillow, while he moved his heavy thigh lightly up and down her lower body, and his free hand took impossible liberties with her tender flesh as his mouth sought hers in a slow burning kiss that built into a ravishment of her senses. She trembled as heat gathered in her loins, and his mouth suddenly dropped to her breast and began to suckle on the rigid tip.
Saffron gasped and arched at the same time as Alex's leg forced hers apart and his long, tactile fingers slid between the secret soft folds of her feminine flesh, finding the pulsing sweet centre of her desire. 'Please— you can't,' she murmured in anguish, torn between the delicious delight of his mouth and hands and the humiliation at her weakness.
