His black eyes, cold and hard as stone, stared down into hers.
‘You said you were going to work,’ she snapped back and tried to ignore the trickle of fear snaking its way down her spine.
‘So I did, but Anna, while berating me on allowing my very new bride to go to bed on her own, also let slip that you had chosen a bedroom for a study.’ His hard mouth twisted in a derisive smile. ‘She is a trusting soul and I doubt it ever crossed her mind you would sleep in the room. But, surprise, surprise, I am nowhere near as trusting and decided to check.’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh.’ His dark eyes mocked her ruthlessly. ‘Is that all you have to say for yourself?’
Helen swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat and said bravely, ‘I told you last night I was not sharing your room again.’
‘Why?’ he demanded with an arrogance that maddened her. ‘After last night there is not a part of your body that I don’t know intimately.’
It was true. But it did not help her precarious hold on her temper to be reminded and she dragged an angry breath into her oxygen-starved lungs. ‘You are disgusting,’ she spat, and tore her gaze away from his harshly attractive face.
Leon moved closer, his big body looming over her intimidatingly. His black shirt was pulled taut across his broad shoulders, the top three buttons were undone, revealing his black curling body hair. At least he had not undressed, she thought, a sudden shameful image of him naked flashing through her mind. ‘Go away.’ And she meant from her mind as much as the room. ‘Just go away.’
Without a word he reached down and wrenched the covers from her grasp.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she cried, grabbing the cover with her free hand before flinging the mug of cocoa straight at him.
The mug bounced off his chest, spreading hot chocolate all over him. She saw his head jerk back and she stared in absolute horror at what she had done. Usually she was the calmest, most even-tempered of women. She had never committed a violent act in her life. Oh, my God! She might have scalded him; a little higher, she could have scarred his face.
‘I’m sorry, so sorry,’ she said, her guilt ridden gaze fixed on his.
Leon’s face was as black as thunder, his dark eyes hard as jet.
‘You damn well will be.’
He swore and hauled her out of the bed, throwing her over his shoulder. She tried to struggle, suddenly very afraid, but he was far too powerful for her. He stormed straight into the bathroom and, dropping her to the floor, he locked the door behind him.
Dizzy from being held upside down, the blood pounding in her head, she took a moment to focus. When she did she saw he had removed his shirt and his chest hair was damp and sticky with cocoa.
‘I really am sorry.’ She tried to apologise, but she was too late.
He gave her a killing look. His arm clamped around her waist, and, kicking off his shoes, he herded her into the shower.
He turned on the water, and spun her around to face him. He grasped her hand and slapped the soap in her palm. ‘Now you are going to wash off every drop of your crazy handiwork,’ he hissed with a sibilant softness that was more frightening than his anger.
The water pounded down on her, and she stared at him wide-eyed and terrified. He was only inches away from her and she did not need her contact lenses to see every muscle and sinew in his great body was taut with rage. For once she thanked the Lord she was small. Her head barely reached his shoulders and she did not have to look at his hard, furious face. But her embarrassment was acute as the water plastered her shirt to her skin revealing every curve and hollow of her body.
‘What are you waiting for?’ His hands caught her wrist and lifted her hand to his chest. ‘Wash.’
She swallowed down the refusal that sprang to her lips, and began lathering his chest. The feel of his warm, wet skin beneath her palm, the hard musculature of his chest, were a sensual torture that made her heart race.
‘Use both hands. I am a big man,’ he ordered harshly.
She closed her eyes and, rubbing the soap between her palms, she splayed her hands on his chest and moved them in ever-widening circles. He felt so good and, appalled at where her thoughts were taking her she gasped.
‘There.’ Her eyes flying open, she moved back until the wall of the shower stopped her. ‘It is done.’
Drenched and battling to keep his rage under control, Leon stared furiously down at her. She was done when he said so. He caught the shimmer of sexual awareness in the darkening depths of her violet eyes. Saw her small, perfectly formed breasts peaking against the wet shirt and suddenly, from being rigid with fury at her wild action, he felt his body hardening with a totally different emotion.
‘Not yet, it isn’t,’ he told her. ‘Not to my satisfaction.’
Shedding his trousers, he reached for her and stripped the shirt from her body.
‘No,’ she tried to object.
But her denial was weak. Triumph surged though him along with a devilish desire to possess her so completely and utterly that she would never again try to defy him. Sliding an arm around her back he drew her against him.
‘Yes, Helen,’ he drawled and, taking her chin between his fingers and thumb, he forced her to look at him.
‘The chocolate flowed down my body. You need to wash lower,’ he commanded silkily, stroking a hand up her back before trailing down the indentation of her spine to finally curve her pert rear. For a moment he felt her slight resistance. He pressed her closer against his now throbbing arousal and felt her shudder in helpless response.
Wet, naked and held against his big body, Helen was vitally aware of the hard strength of him against her belly. She stared up at him and the mocking eyes that held hers gleamed with a molten sensuality that made her stomach somersault. With her whole body reacting treacherously to the sliding caress of his hand against her naked flesh, she could barely breathe. Desire lanced through her, weakening her resistance, still she tried to shake her head free from his hold. But his grip tightened on her chin.
‘Every action has a reaction. Remember that, Helen, and we will get along fine.’ He moved his hand from her chin to sweep the wet hair from her face.
‘But I’ll spare your blushes this time,’ he declared softly his dark eyes gleaming with an unholy light. Taking the soap from her unresisting hand he stroked it down his chest and lower between their bodies.
She was pressed against the impressive length of him, and the back of his hand trailing down her quivering stomach ignited a burning desire in her trembling body that shook her to the depths of her being. She did not want to feel this way about him. Then, turning his hand, he cupped her between her thighs and it was so shockingly intimate Helen couldn’t hold back a moan.
He gave a low laugh and proceeded to lather her there, everywhere. She closed her eyes as he explored and caressed her hot, wet flesh, all thought of resistance banished from her mind. She shuddered as his hand stroked back up over her stomach and on to massage the fullness of her breasts. When he had dropped the soap she had no idea. The water
