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His savage laugh ripped through the tension holding Maisy in place.
‘I know you think you love me, Maisy,’ he said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’m basically the first man you’ve been intimate with. It’s understandable you imagine you feel this way.’
Think. Imagine. She wanted to claw his eyes out.
‘Basically?’ she said, stony cold.
Something flashed through Alexei’s expression, leaving his eyes almost feral. ‘He didn’t give you an orgasm.’
Maisy rotated her fists. ‘How do you know?’
He moved so fast she didn’t even have a chance to resist. His hands were around her arms, pinning her, his mouth hot and hard, demanding a submission she wasn’t going to give him. But the shock of it, the longing to be in his arms and provoke a response from him, undid her. She gave a soft little moan and kissed him back.
He drew back, satisfied, releasing her. ‘That’s how I know, dushka. Only me.’
‘And when did you realise that, Alexei?’ she flashed back at him, wiping her mouth and gaining satisfaction from the narrowing of his eyes. Yes, Alexei, look—I’m wiping your low-down kiss off me. ‘Today? Yesterday? Last week?’
‘Seven weeks ago,’ he growled. ‘You’ve been in my bed six weeks, five days.’
He surprised her with the knowledge he had kept count. A tiny flicker of hope formed in its wake.
‘It took me a full seven days to make my move,’ he continued. ‘Slow, considering I could have had you that first night in London.’
The light went out. Maisy struggled to keep her nerve, but he had never been like this with her before. He could be cold, but he had never been crass.
‘What do you mean?’ She hated the note of desperation that had crept into her voice.
He heard it. She saw the bleak satisfaction enter his hard eyes. ‘You heard me. I seem to remember you kissing me back, Maisy, your legs around my waist. You were there all the way.’
‘No, that’s not true. You’re twisting it. I was so ashamed. I couldn’t believe I’d let you do that—’ She broke off, seeing triumph flash painfully across his face.
Idiot. She had blundered and said what he had been pushing her to admit. She’d allowed her own vulnerability to him to distract her from what was at issue. Maisy suddenly realised what this was all about and she shut her mouth.
‘Da, you were so ashamed you couldn’t wait to dive into bed with me the day I turned up here. It must have been hard, dushka, all that waiting. Explains why you were so easy to warm up the minute your back hit that mattress.’
Maisy made herself stay expressionless and stone-still, all the while silently repeating, He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it.
He was waiting for her to respond. Waiting for her to do something. But Maisy held her ground. And the longer she stood there, staring stonily back at him, the more pronounced the ticking of the nerve below his jaw became. He was so stubborn, she thought, and hard. Harder than me, thought Maisy desperately, and he could so very well win because of it.
Cursing in Russian, he cut the air with a frustrated gesture of his hand, reeling around and walking away from her. Then he spun and said harshly, ‘This is who I am, Maisy. I’m the one who turned your life upside down, who railroaded you into a sexual relationship—who drags you all over the continent and dresses you up like a doll, parades you on a boat as if you’re a goddamned trophy.’
Maisy could only stare at him and listen and ignore what he was saying.
He was shouting at her now. ‘I’m a class-A bastard, Maisy. That’s my reputation. You seem to be the only person on the planet who isn’t aware of that.’
She had never seen him like this. He had been angry before, but always in control, always measuring his response. That control had splintered, but the anger wasn’t directed at her. She knew him now. It was directed at himself.
But she had some of her own to serve up.
‘Listen to me, you stupid man. For your information, I would never have let things go that far that night in London.’ Her voice rose strong above the hum of the wind and the ocean. ‘The only reason I ever slept with you here was because I wanted to, and it was everything I dreamed of—because you were sweet and kind and considerate, everything you claim you’re not. But I’m tired of being on the outside of your life, and I will never, never forgive you for throwing my feelings back in my face unless you get down on your sorry knees and beg my forgiveness, and then work your behind off making it up to me.’
Face flushed, body trembling Maisy took a backward step. ‘Starting right now.’
