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His eyes dropped to her wide, lush mouth and he found himself remembering how she’d tasted and felt. Even though he now realised that she couldn’t possibly have been a virgin, he still wanted her with almost indecent desperation.
‘Stop looking at me like that,’ she whispered, and Casper gave a twisted smile, acknowledging the chemistry that held them both fast. Invisible chains, drawing them together like prisoners doomed to the same fate.
‘You should be pleased I’m looking at you like that,’ he drawled softly, ‘Because good sex is probably the only thing we have going for us.’
Even as his mind was withdrawing, his hands wanted to reach out and haul her hard against him. He saw her eyes darken to deep emerald, saw her throat move as she murmured a denial.
‘I honestly don’t know what’s going on here,’ she muttered. ‘But I think you’d better leave.’
Somehow her continuing claim at innocence made the whole episode all the more distasteful, and the face of another woman flashed into his brain—a woman so captivating that he’d been blind to everything except her extraordinary beauty. ‘What sort of heartless bitch would lie about the identity of her baby’s father?’ Ruthlessly he pushed the memories down, his anger trebling. ‘Don’t you have a conscience?’ His words sucked the last of the colour from her cheeks.
‘Get out!’ Her voice sounded strange. High pitched. Robotic. ‘I don’t care if you’re a prince, just get out!’ Her legs were shaking and her face was as white as an Arctic snow-field. ‘I was so pleased to see you. That day when you comforted me when I was upset—I thought you were a really nice, decent person. A bit scary, perhaps, but basically nice. When I opened the door and saw you standing there I actually thought you’d come to see if I was OK—can you believe that? And now I feel like a complete fool. Because you weren’t thinking about me. You were thinking about yourself. So just go! Go back to your palace, or your castle, or wherever it is you live.’ The wave of her hand suggested she didn’t care where he lived. ‘And do whatever it is you want to do.’
‘You’ve robbed me of that option.’
‘Why? Even if the world does think I’m having your baby, so what? Don’t tell me you’re worried about your reputation. You’re the playboy prince.’ There was hurt in her voice, that same voice that only moments earlier had been soft and gentle. ‘Since when has reputation mattered to you? When you have sex with a woman, everyone just smiles and says what a stud you are. I’m sure the fact that you’ve fathered a child will gain you some major testosterone points. Walk away, Your Highness. Isn’t that what you usually do?’
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ His voice was thickened and raw. ‘You have no idea what you’ve done.’
What exactly had she done?
Appalled, Holly stared at him.
The anger in his face was real enough. It was clear that he genuinely believed that he couldn’t be the father of her baby. And her only proof was the fact that she’d been a virgin.
But he didn’t believe her, did he?
And could she blame him for that? It was true that she hadn’t behaved like a virgin. The entire encounter had been one long burst of explosive chemistry. It had been the only time in her life that she’d been out of control.
And that chemistry was back in the room, racking up the tension between them to intolerable levels, the electricity sparking between them like a live cable. His gaze dropped to her lips and she saw in his eyes that his mind was in exactly the same place as hers.
It was like a chain reaction. His glance, her heartbeat, harsh breathing—her or him?—and tension—tension like she’d never experienced before.
Streaks of colour accentuated his aristocratic cheekbones and he stepped towards her at exactly the same moment she moved towards him. The attraction was so fierce and frantic that when she heard a ringing sound she actually wondered whether an alarm had gone off.
Then she realised that it was the phone.
Hauling his gaze from hers, Casper inhaled sharply. ‘Don’t answer that.’
Still reeling from the explosion of sexual excitement, Holly doubted she’d be capable of answering it even if she’d wanted to. Her legs were trembling and the rhythm of her breathing was all wrong.
She watched dizzily as he crossed the room and lifted a bunch of papers from the printer.
Mouth grim, shoulders tense, he leafed through them and then lifted his gaze to hers. ‘What were you doing? Profiling your target?’
Having completely forgotten that she’d actually printed out some of the sheets on him, including a particularly flattering picture, Holly suddenly wished she could sink through the floor. ‘I—I was looking you up.’ What else could she say? She could hardly deny it, given that he was holding the evidence of her transgression in his hands.
‘Of course you were.’ He gave a derisive smile. ‘I’m sure you wanted to know just how well you’d done. So, now we’ve cleared that up, let’s drop the pretence of innocence, shall we?’
‘OK, so I’m human!’ Her face scarlet, her knees trembling, Holly ran damp palms over her tee-shirt, wishing she could go and change into something else. He looked like something out of a glossy magazine, and she was dressed in her most comfortable tee-shirt that dated back at least six years. ‘I admit that I wanted to find out stuff about you. You were my first lover.’
‘So you’re sticking to that story.’ He dropped the papers back onto the desk and Holly lifted her chin.
‘It’s not a story. It’s the truth.’
‘I just hope you don’t regret what you’ve done when you have two hundred camera lenses trained on your face and the world’s press yelling questions at you.’
She shrank at the thought. ‘That isn’t going to happen.’
