your souvenirs from an Austrian jail would be very different, I can assure you!’ he shot back tightly. He took her arm. ‘I need some coffee,’ he announced.
She tried to pull away from him, but he would not let her.
‘Let go of me!’ she snarled.
He merely tightened his grip, and looked down at her with his long-lashed eyes.
‘That’s not what you say in bed, Anna mou. You want me to touch you then.’
His voice was soft, as soft as silk, his eyes molten, melting her…
Once again he saw colour flare out along her cheekbones, and that look in her eyes. Of all things, it looked as if it was embarrassment. But that was impossible. Anna Delane was a thief, shameless and unapologetic, and the life she lived as a fashion model hardly meant she was embarrassable about sex.
Then he saw her chin go up, her mouth tighten, as if she were suppressing something. Her body was as stiff as a board.
‘I thought you said you wanted a coffee,’ she bit at him.
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