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And, of course, because she was running late, Ryan was early. His knock at her door came almost twenty minutes ahead of time, and she grimaced as she walked downstairs. She could just imagine the excuses he’d come up with, all to wrangle an extra half hour and a drink in private before they met up with their circle of friends.
“You are…” she said with an attempt at a cross expression, as she yanked open the door. Only the word early died on her lips.
“Marcus.” She swallowed convulsively, and despite the freezing night, stepped out onto the landing, pulling the door shut behind her. She didn’t want to invite him in. She couldn’t. She looked him up and down, remembering the last time she’d seen him, and who she’d seen him with, and found it wasn’t hard to summon her hatred. “What are you doing here?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
He’d shaved since she’d seen him. Had it only been two days ago? Gone was the smell of stale cigarette smoke and copious amounts of alcohol. And other women. Damn it, he looked good. She hated that.
Behind her back, she gripped the house for support. She saw the way his eyes stared at her face, and she hated the way her body responded to it. Hated the way her nipples tautened against the silk blouse she wore. The way she felt her core heat up and moisten with need. Hated it all the more because now she could just picture how he’d been assuaging his lust, and who with.
“What do you want?” She asked, coldly.
“I want to talk to you.”
She lifted her chin. “Tough.”
“Katie, please…” he reached out and took her hand in his. “Please let me in.”
She shook her head so hard her dark hair whipped against her cheek, but she didn’t pull her hand out of his. She had needed him so much, that even this one small contact was like heaven. Her whole adult life, she’d judged her mum for loving a man who didn’t deserve it, and now here she was, in just the same boat exactly. Except, if anything, this man was so much worse than her father had been.
She closed her eyes. “You don’t have anything to say that I want to hear. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve said it all.” She blinked up at him then, and fixed him with her most accusing stare. “You’ve shown me just how much I meant to you.”
He lowered his head, shielding his eyes from her. “I understand you’re angry…”
“Angry!” She interrupted hotly. “Angry doesn’t even begin to explain how I feel!”
“But if you’re angry, then you must know it’s because you still care. If I meant nothing to you, why would you be so pissed off?”
“Because you lied! You lied to me, and my son, and you did it all to buy a stupid piece of land. You didn’t give a care in the world if I got caught up in it all, and ended up hurt. You only cared about yourself, and making even more money.”
Silence arced between them as he thought of his next move.
“Katie, I’m not used to begging. I know your pride was hurt by seeing me with Cherie. But I also know you want to hear what I’ve got to say. You’re going through the motions of being angry with me so you don’t feel like you’ve let me off the hook too easily. Right?”
She gaped at him. Sure, it had a ring of truth, but it also smacked of an arrogance she hadn’t thought David Trent capable of. Marcus Harris was, apparently, a different kettle of fish.
“How bloody dare you.” She pushed open the door and went to slam it shut, only he was right behind her, and he caught its impact on his forearm.
“I know you, Katie. I know every single inch of you, and I know that I’m right.”
She swallowed convulsively. “Don’t remind me.”
“If that’s what it takes, I damned well will remind you.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes flew wide as she watched him cross the timber floor, like a panther seeking its prey. And she was incapable of movement.
He placed his big, callused hands on either side of her face and held her trapped, lancing her with his eyes. He lowered his head, and the small part of her brain that told her to pull away was silenced by the rest of her that was desperately, hungrily craving his nearness.
When his lips touched hers, there was nothing calm about it. This was a kiss of passion and anger. Resentment and pain. She kissed him back, showing him with her body how hurt she was, how sad she was, how mad she was.
She groaned low in her throat as his tongue invaded her moist mouth, laced with sensual promise.
“Katie,” he said hungrily, running his hands through her hair.
But she couldn’t do it. “NO!” She shoved him with all her strength, feeling a sense of satisfaction when she saw how much she’d surprised him. “You dare come here and try to do that… after you’ve been with… God. I don’t know. Cherie and whoever knows how many others. No.” She pulled herself up straight. “I thought I loved you, but I was wrong. How could I ever love you after what you’ve done?”
Marcus stifled an oath. He had been so sure he’d be able to get through to her. He hadn’t factored in just how badly he’d cocked up. He wanted to do this right, but he had to address things in the order they’d offended her. “Katie, I haven’t slept with anyone since you.”
