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Lia went to move around him, to get away, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her skin was silky smooth and warm, her arm slender under his hand. He felt crass then, and boorish. Not fit to touch someone as exquisite as her. But he held on and she swung around to face him, eyes flashing.
‘Let me go, damn you. And for the record, you don’t turn me on—not in the slightest.’
A challenge to disprove her rose hot and urgent through his body and Ben put both hands on her arms. But then, through the obvious anger she displayed, he caught a glimpse of something else in those stunning eyes...something almost like hurt. Hurt that he’d been accurate in his assessment of her and she wasn’t used to hearing the bald truth? Or because he’d got it wrong?
He forced a modicum of civility back into his overheated brain. ‘I didn’t mean what I said as a personal attack. You’re a product of your upbringing, that’s all, and I was merely pointing out that I’m well aware that you’re the furthest thing imaginable from a high-class hooker.’
That curious expression faded from her eyes, making Ben feel foolish for suspecting for a second that he’d hurt her because he’d got her wrong, and then she tensed under his hands, as if to leave again, and everything in him rejected it. The urge to disprove her assertion that she didn’t want him was calling to the most primitive part of him.
‘But I’m afraid I can’t accept the lie.’
‘What lie?’ Now she looked wary.
‘This lie.’ And then he hauled her right into his body and covered her mouth with his.
Everything that had just passed between them was forgotten as the world seemed to combust into white heat. All Ben could feel was the press of that soft lush mouth and her body, moulding to his as if made for him alone.
* * *
All Lia could feel at first was steel, and then she realised it was the sheer hard-muscled strength of Benjamin Carter’s body against hers, his hands tight on her arms. Her body was pressed so closely to his that her breasts were flattened against his chest, her nipples tingling from the contact.
And then, as if encouraged by the fact that she wasn’t pulling away, his hold gentled minutely and his mouth became less of a searing brand and started to move on hers. Lia knew that she should be using this as an opportunity to pull free, stand back, demand to know what the hell he thought he was doing—especially after that heated exc
hange... But, treacherously, she didn’t. Or couldn’t.
One of his arms was sliding around her back now, pulling her in closer. And before she could stop herself she was responding to his kiss, her mouth softening and opening, and at the first touch of his tongue to hers she had no hope of remaining sane. Lia realised she was clutching at something to stay standing and that it was his arms, his biceps bulging under the material of his jacket, reminding her of the awesome power of his body.
There was something about this evidence of his sheer unadulterated masculinity that made her feel very feminine. It was seriously addictive. Yet the fact that she found his very masculine differences so attractive was unexpected and disorientating.
Certainly her ex-fiancé had never made her feel this...hot, or this desperate. This was wholly new and all too treacherously exhilarating.
Benjamin Carter’s hand was cradling the back of her head now, and his other hand was on her hip, fingers digging into her flesh. She could feel his erection against her and it didn’t shock her—it made her want to move against him. She wanted to feel him notch it against her, between her legs where she felt slick and swollen. She felt a curious hollowness, a desire to be filled...
His kiss was rough and smooth all at once. And it was only when his mouth left hers and he started to press kisses along her jaw, when her head fell back in weak supplication, that she seemed to come to her senses. A voice screamed at her. What the hell are you doing?
She jerked away from him abruptly and took a shaky step back, staring at him, aghast. Her mouth felt swollen and she realised the top of her dress was dislodged, revealing the swell of her breast. She pulled it back up with a jerk. Her hair was half undone and she noticed the black mask she’d been wearing lying on the ground nearby. She was unravelling. And she’d just betrayed herself, spectacularly.
In a thready voice she said, ‘I don’t know what that was...’
‘I do.’
Carter was grim, and Lia hated it that he looked as if he hadn’t just fallen apart—not like her.
‘That was me proving that I do turn you on—and unfortunately proving it to the rest of the world too.’
Lia went still. ‘What do you mean?’
Carter glanced back at something she couldn’t see and then looked at her again. ‘I think we’ve been papped.’
She went cold. The thought of someone witnessing that intensely private moment when she’d been so vulnerable made her want to squirm. It was too much exposure in one night—especially on the heels of how deeply his words had cut when he’d told her exactly what he thought of her: ‘You might not be royalty but you’re a princess.’ She knew that she hadn’t helped matters by reacting so defensively to him, but she was far from some pampered princess, and the fact that his opinion somehow mattered was even more infuriating.
She glared at him. ‘This is all your fault. If you hadn’t pursued me and made that ridiculous bid this wouldn’t have happened.’
He had the gall to shrug one shoulder, and a devilishly sexy smile tipped his mouth up at one side. ‘Sweetheart, I just proved there’s enough electricity between us to power a small nation, so it was inevitable.’
Lia started to pace again, as much to convince herself that her legs were still working as anything else. Then she stopped and looked at him. ‘I’m not your sweetheart, and I’ve had enough. I’m leaving.’
This time he didn’t try to restrain her, he just said with deadly efficiency from behind her, ‘I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.’
