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He tasted sweet and salty. And hot. Her eyelids fluttered and her mouth opened and then she was kissing him back greedily, her lips bruising against his. And all the time heat was climbing inside her, spiralling upwards. Frantically she squirmed against him, pressing her body to his, her hands tugging at his shirt, plucking clumsily at the buttons.
He kissed her hungrily, with lips that formed no words but spoke of danger and of something like belonging, and his kisses made her feel fearless and strong.
She heard him groan, and then abruptly he released his grip and stepped away. She opened her eyes and stared at him, confused, feeling a coldness against her skin where moments earlier she had felt the pressing warmth of his lips and fingers. Her body was trembling like a leaf in the rain and hastily she clutched at one of the armchairs for support.
There was a long, pulsing silence and then Laszlo shook h
is head and said quietly, ‘Not susceptible?’
Prudence gazed at him, dazed; her brain felt fogged and her lips were tingling and tender from the heat of his kiss. She could hardly believe what had just happened—what she had let happen.
‘We shouldn’t have done that,’ she said shakily. ‘It was a mistake.’ She took a step backwards, her eyes darting frantically around the room.
Laszlo studied her coolly. ‘No. Our marriage was a mistake. That...’ He stared mockingly at her swollen mouth. ‘That was just a demonstration of how little you know yourself.’
Somewhere in the castle a clock began to chime and, frowning, Laszlo glanced at his watch. His face darkened and he shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line.
‘It’s too late now for you to catch a flight home.’
There was a tense silence and then finally, in a voice that made her stomach turn in on itself, he spoke.
‘You’ll have to stay here tonight.’
He stared at her coolly, his eyes dark and implacable.
‘But don’t get any ideas. I’m only letting you stay out of the goodness of my heart.’ His eyes glittered. ‘Nothing’s changed, Prudence. You have one night and one night only.’
She found herself holding her breath as he studied her face.
‘After that I don’t ever want to hear from you or see you again,’ he warned softly. He studied her coldly. ‘A word of advice, though. I wouldn’t bother trying to pursue this matter outside of this room. The stakes are too high. It won’t just be your pride that gets hurt.’ He paused, his eyes fixed to her face. ‘I’ll ruin Seymour’s too.’
In other words, she just had to accept her dismissal in silence. Unfair dismissal, her brain screamed. He couldn’t just fire her like this.
Only he could. And he had.
Worse, there was nothing she could do about it. The De Zsadany Corporation was a huge, global company that had almost limitless funds and an entire publicity department at its disposal. She felt a shiver of apprehension. There was no doubt in her mind that if she tried to challenge Laszlo he’d use every weapon in his armoury to wipe not just her but Seymour’s off the face of the earth.
It was bad enough that she was going to have to tell him that she’d lost the de Zsadany contract; she certainly wasn’t going to do anything else to jeopardise Edmund’s livelihood.
She shivered at the intensity in his expression as he spoke again.
‘I don’t suppose you’ll want to hang about, so I’ll arrange for a taxi to be waiting at...shall we say six-fifteen?’
Prudence nodded mutely.
‘Good.’ His mouth twisted into a grim smile. ‘And make sure you’re in it. Otherwise you, your family and all those nice people at Seymour’s will live to regret it.’
And with that he turned and walked out of the room.
Her heart pounding erratically, Prudence stared after him. A rising hysteria was scrabbling inside her like a trapped animal. She’d ruined everything—and not just for Edmund.
She shivered. Seven years ago she’d vowed to forget him. Some mornings she’d barely been able to drag herself out of bed. Only one thought had kept her from pulling the duvet over her head: that in time she would be able to think of Laszlo Cziffra with nothing more than a bruised sadness. And one day she might just have managed it.
Her face quivered. One fervid, feverish kiss later and how foolish that hope seemed. For now she saw that it didn’t really matter how much time she had. Seven years or seven hundred—it would make no difference. It would never be long enough for her to forget Laszlo and how he had made her feel.
Prudence lifted a hand to her mouth, remembering the burning heat of his kiss. How he could apparently still make her feel.
CHAPTER FOUR
