she laid down her spoon, eyeing him across the width of the table with conflicting emotions, both hating the thought of what was to come, and yet undeniably stirred by it too: mind not strong enough to exercise full control over matter, she concluded ruefully.
‘So, let’s get it over with, then,’ she said. ‘The sooner I’m out of here, the better!’
Vidal linked both hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair to view her with irony. ‘Time is of no importance. We have the whole night ahead of us.’
Leonie had been more than half expecting it, but that didn’t mean she had to accept it without question. ‘If my humiliation is all you’re after, you don’t have to go to such lengths,’ she said. ‘In fact, you’ve already succeeded.’
‘Suggesting that I should be content to let it go at that?’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve waited too long for this moment. I should mention, too, that if you hoped to deter me by dressing like some secretary, you were sadly mistaken. I find the severity of your clothing a tantalising contrast with what I know lies beneath.’
‘You have no idea what lies beneath!’ Her indignation was ridiculous in the circumstances, Leonie knew, but she was too incensed to care. ‘I didn’t allow things to get that far between us!’
His smile was slow, his enjoyment at her discomfiture obvious. ‘I don’t need my eyes to tell me what my hands have already discovered. Your skin is smooth as silk, your breasts firm and full, your waist slender above the curve of hip that so excites a man, your—’
‘Stop it!’ Leonie’s cheeks were burning, her whole body tingling. ‘I don’t want to hear any more!’
‘You’ll be hearing a lot more than that before the night is over,’ he said. ‘Speech can be as much a part of lovemaking as action.’
‘You call what you’ve got in mind making love?’ she retorted scathingly.
His lips slanted again. ‘Had I been capable of what you apparently have in mind, I would have taken you that way two years ago. As I already told you, I intend you to enjoy our time together as much as I will myself. But not quite yet,’ he added. ‘First a brandy, I think, and a little music to set the mood. Perhaps we may even dance.’
Leonie held her tongue, unwilling to set herself up for any further ridicule. Whatever Vidal’s intentions, she had no choice but to go along.
He saw her seated on the same sofa she had occupied earlier, switching on some hidden player on his way to get the drinks. Soft music filled the room. Nothing Leonie recognised, but soothing, she had to admit.
This time Vidal took a seat at her side, clinking his glass against hers in mocking salute. ‘Pleasant dreams!’
‘I hope you have nightmares,’ she retaliated weakly, drawing another laugh.
‘I’ll let you know in the morning.’
‘I’m intended to stay the whole night?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.
‘But of course. I look forward to breakfast together on the balcony, if the weather still allows it. Were we in Portugal now, there would be little doubt of it. June is a delightful time of year, the air warm, the fields filled with flowers, the whole ambience one of peace and plenty.’
There were times, Leonie had noted in the past, when his speech became a little more formalised, his accent more pronounced. Times when he both looked and sounded a different person. She stole a glance at the firmly moulded profile, lingering for the briefest of moments on the sensual curve of his mouth before dragging her attention back to the glass in her hand.
She hadn’t wanted the bandy, but she lifted it to her lips now, swallowing half the contents in one gulp. The glow was instant, spreading through her like fingers of fire. She made to down what was left, to have the glass taken from her and placed on the low table before her, along with his own.
‘Brandy is meant to be savoured not tipped straight down the throat,’ he admonished. ‘Or were you simply seeking courage?’
‘Courage for what?’ she countered. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’
‘I think fear of yourself more likely,’ he returned. ‘You want me—you always did want me—but you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge it. This way you can lay the blame for any weakness on the effects of alcohol.’ He put a fingertip to her lips as she made to speak, his own curving as he felt her involuntary tremor. ‘No disputes. I’ll have you say the words before we’re through.’
‘I’d as soon cut my tongue out first!’ Leonie spoke through gritted teeth, fighting to stay on top of her warring instincts. His touch stirred her senses; there was no denying that. She had an almost irresistible urge to take the fingertip into her mouth, to savour the masculine taste of it.
Vidal removed the temptation by moving the finger, sliding it gently along the line of her jaw and up behind her ear in a caress that set every nerve-ending in her body aquiver. It took everything she had to keep from dragging his hand away; to sit there expressionlessly holding the dark gaze.
‘A woman of some will-power,’ he observed, ‘but not by any means invincible.’ He took the caressing finger away, getting to his feet. ‘Come.’
She stood up, steeling herself afresh as he turned her about to press her ahead of him clear of the sofa and table. The music had softened still further. Vidal turned her again, this time into his arms, hands sliding behind her back to hold her close. The heels she was wearing brought her eyes on a level with his mouth. His breath was warm on her cheek, the subtle male scent of him filling her nostrils as he began to move in slow cadence to the rhythm. Her nipples tingled as they rubbed against the hardness of his chest, springing to life. He would feel that reaction; he couldn’t fail to feel it. Not that she could do a damned thing about it.
‘Bonito,’ he murmured softly.
He dropped his hands further down her back, bringing the vital centres of their bodies into closer proximity. Leonie bit down hard on her lower lip as he moved her hips so that she just barely brushed against him. He was aroused already, if not fully as yet then certainly well on the way. Fight it though she might, she was part-way there herself. He knew it too.
‘I think the time has come,’ he murmured.
Leonie put up no resistance as he led her across to the bedroom. The bedside lights were switched on, casting a warm glow across the wide expanse of the king-sized bed while leaving the rest of the room in semi-darkness. Vidal made no attempt to turn on extra lights, affording her some relief at least.
He took her face between both hands, searching the striking features as if to commit them to memory, his eyes dark pools. The first touch of his lips was unexpectedly gentle, teasing rather than asserting, brushing a way through the barrier she tried to keep going. His tongue felt like silk, exploring the soft inner flesh with infinite sensitivity. Leonie felt her senses begin to swim, her will-power to start draining away. If she was going to make any kind of stance at all it had to be now, came the thought, before she went under completely.
Leaving one hand cupping her nape, Vidal dropped the other to seek her breast, encircling her tingling, peaking nipple for a brief moment before moving again to unfasten her shirt buttons with dexterity and slide inside to find bare flesh. His touch was like fire on her skin, fingers penetrating beneath the flimsy lace covering of her bra to
