Her teeth gritted. Lara wanted to tear his honey-smooth drawl out of her head, no matter how much it hurt! How could he have thought that she might sell the revelation that his father was dying to the highest bidder?
Lara shuddered with revulsion. Of course, she had been hurt. Nobody could easily accept such an accusation. So, Christophe didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her... but what had made him like that?
She remembered him saying that knowledge was a weapon in a woman’s hands and that had come straight from the gut! Clearly, at some stage, Christophe had got badly burned by a woman and the memory hurt him, kept him on his guard, made him cynical and suspicious...
So, who’s playing the therapy game now, Lara?
A groan of remembered embarrassment escaped Lara while she was waking up.“Oh, God… Why did I let it happen… I must be out of my mind…” she whispered and sat up. Lara had felt half-dead when Christophe had all but carried her on to the helicopter. She had been wishing she were dead by the time she was hauled off it again, sick and in a state of collapse. Her impressions had been fleeting. Lara recalled the cluster of security men converging on the helipad, blurred glimpses of an incredibly large white villa, and heat that only increased the nonstop pounding behind her temples. Jet lag had finally caught up with her. A rueful grimace slanted her face as she gingerly slid out of bed to gratefully appreciate that the ground beneat
As they left the room in the wake of Demis, Lara hissed at Christophe.“I want to talk to you!”“You want to fight, chérie… we do it in private,” Christophe gritted down at her roughly, a wave of dark anger seething in his flashing sidewise glance.“And what the hell did you have to smolder about?” she asked him slightly.“The thought of you lying under Anderson for two fucking years, chérie!” he slashed back down at her with visible distaste. “Leaving me for that wimp… Unproductive, useless wimp… I could strangle you right now...” Lara went white. Why was he bringing Randall up all over again in this discussion? What about him and his… stepmother? What was that about? The nerve of this man… Later she would give him
And Lara had gone crazy, appalled and outraged that this despicable man could use her father to pressure her into coming to bed with him. The fact that she was engaged to be married meant nothing to him. A violent row had ensued. Lara had been so furious, she had no memory of her abuse, but Christophe had lost his temper too. Her attempt to slap his face had landed her on her back on the sofa with Christophe on top of her... And then it had begun, in raw mutual anger that, terrifyingly swiftly, had turned into the scorching heat of an uncontrollable passion. A passion that was insanity to her in the aftermath of shame and disbelief. But he hadn’t held her down and forced her to submit to his mouth and the heated caress of his hands. She had been a full participant. Hating him, wanting him, needing him, hating herse
Within seconds the fear was burned away by the heat of Christophe’s mouth. Lara quivered in response, and thought became far too much of a challenge. He bent his dark head over the full swell of her breasts and her fingers speared helplessly into his thick black hair. His lips pulled on a taut pink nipple and a whimper of sound escaped from her convulsed throat. He lingered there, toying with her sensitive flesh until every skin cell went on red alert and every nerve ending tautened in sizzling anticipation. Her hands gripped his smooth brown shoulders and skimmed in near-desperation over the tautness of the muscles flexing in his back. Lara felt as if she was being consumed. There was no breathing space between one spasm of response and the next. Sensation took over and she was mindless in the grip of it
Lunch was being served outdoors beneath the leafy splendor of a ring of flame trees. Beyond them, flight after flight of shallow steps adorned with classical statues descended to the white beach below. Demis Agelastos gave Lara a good look. He had a fiercely amused scrutinizing gaze. Flustered, Lara dropped down into her seat. One of the maids had awakened her and she hadn’t had much time to get ready. When she glanced up again, Christophe’s brilliant golden eyes were wandering with indolent satisfaction over her in a look as unashamedly physical as a caress. A deep flush of awareness colored her skin, making her desperately conscious of the unfamiliar ache between her thighs. Erotic recollections surfaced and Lara fought them to the
That assurance hit her like a cruel blow and Lara despised herself for reeling from that reality as though it were a surprise. She loved Christophe hopelessly, helplessly… but that didn’t mean making a sacrificial lamb of herself. Someday, not too far in the future, Demis would die and it would all be over. The deception would end and with it, the affair. She didn’t want a fake wedding ring to add to her bitterness. But didn’t she owe Christophe something for the immense kindness and sensitivity he had employed with her own father? Okay, they had made a deal but Christophe could have fulfilled the terms far less generously. A deal... Oh, God, she reflected painfully, had the giving of her body last night merely been part of the deal as well? Her stomach heaved at the suspicion.
Christophe gazed down at her and slowly, erotically moved on her, brushing his arousal against her hot body.“Chérie, sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to do,” he whispered looking straight into her eyes.“Oh… I see… Am I to understand that you don’t want this wedding either?” In quite irrational annoyance, Lara’s mouth tightened as she fought to suppress the shivering hunger Christophe was invoking in her with such insulting ease.“A wedding ring has to be about the last reward I would want to give you…” What the hell was he saying? Her sapphire eyes widened to their fullest extent.“Excuse me? Reward? Do you consider going through a disgusting parody of a wedding ceremony a… reward
“Lara…” he whispered. “Wait there… Don’t move…” An involuntarily moan escaped her and Christophe spun fluidly around. But by then Lara had already fled, her sole desire to escape. She raced down the steps that led into the gardens, her breath sobbing in her throat.“Lara!” she heard Christophe’s voice calling. Powerful lights came on, illuminating the outdoors. But Lara kept on running blindly, heedless of the shrubs that tore at her. The heel of one of her shoes snapped when she stumbled. She kicked it off and then bent to rip off the other one. She headed for the steps that would take her to the beach, down and down and down again, far too fast for safety but truly not caring whether or not she fell and hurt herself.