She threw down her evening bag angrily on to a chair, beginning to pull out the pins that secured her hair. ‘Oh, all right! But don’t blame me if you feel like drowning me halfway through the evening. This hair of mine seems to have a life of its own when it isn’t confined.’ She ran her hand through the long loose waves of her red hair, tumbling it down her back like a shimmering flame.
Damien’s eyes never left her. ‘Beautiful!’ he breathed softly. ‘I’m even more convinced that you’ll be photogenic.’
Kate was brushing her hair in long vigorous strokes, feeling it crackle with healthy life. ‘I’m not going to that screen test, you know,’ she tugged viciously at a tangle.
‘Why not? Frightened I meant it about coming back to my apartment for the night?’ he mocked her.
‘Not at all,’ she answered with a confidence she didn’t feel. ‘I’m just not interested in what people call stardom.’
He raised a surprised eyebrow. ‘You’re not?’
Kate shook her head, her hair now a silken curtain of fire down her back, the red and gold lights in it brought into more prominence by the black of her gown. ‘Definitely not.’
Damien moved forward with a triumphant laugh. ‘I think I’m really going to like you, Kate Darwood. The most beautiful hair I’ve ever laid eyes on and no bid for stardom! You sound like perfection to me,’ he bent his dark head with a suddenness that took her by surprise, catching her off guard as he claimed her lips possessively with his own.
For one mesmerised moment Kate let him kiss her, even allowed herself to respond for a few short seconds, before good sense took over. She was here alone with this man in his apartment, completely at his mercy if he should choose to take advantage of the situation.
She fought against him, wrenching herself out of his arms. ‘Stop that! What do you think I am!’
‘I already told you that.’ He watched her with amusement, glancing at his wrist watch. ‘You’re very beautiful. And we’re going to be very late if we don’t leave now.’
‘I’ve been ready for the last ten minutes,’ she said crossly.
He handed her her bag. ‘And I’m ready to leave now.’
Kate sat bolt upright on her side of the car, the soft music from the cassette doing little to soothe her nerves. How dare he kiss her like that, as if he had a perfect right to do so? James had much to answer for, letting this man calmly walk off with her as if she were an object, and she would tell him so when she got back home. When she got back …
‘Are you annoyed because I kissed you?’ He gave her a sideways glance.
‘You had no right to do it,’ she obstinately refused to look at him, even though his eyes compelled her to.
‘I had the right of a man attracted to a beautiful girl,’ he told her haughtily. ‘Or do you save all your kisses for the faithless James?’
‘I don’t save any of them for him.’
‘Perhaps that’s as well. He’s very keen on Sheri, you know.’
Kate did know. At first she had felt a sisterly jealousy towards the American girl, her own new-found relationship with James still so fresh that she felt a certain possessiveness towards him. But she had found that his obviously growing affection for the other girl made no difference to his loving care regarding herself, and so instead of being a hated enemy Sheri had become the female confidante she badly needed.
‘I do know,’ she said tightly.
‘And it doesn’t bother you?’
‘Why should it? I’m not his keeper. He’s a grown man, old enough to choose his own friends.’ She hoped they were nearly at Matt Strange’s, at least among the crowd that were likely to be there he wouldn’t be able to keep taunting her in this arrogant way of his.
‘As long as he comes back to you you don’t particularly care.’
‘Now look, Mr Savage, I don’t particularly care for your accusations, and if I could I would put you right about a few things. Unfortunately it’s not up to me.’
Damien had turned the car off the main road, down a short narrow lane, and into a long gravel driveway. The mansion at the end of the driveway was bathed in bright lights, and there seemed to be people in every room as Kate looked in at the uncurtained windows. There were obviously curtains there to be drawn, but as the evening was so warm the windows and doors stood wide open. The noise coming from the building was tremendous, and from the amount of cars parked in the large driveway she would say there were hundreds of people here, just what she needed to avoid this man.
He parked the car behind another one equally expensive and sleek. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he mocked. ‘You’re secretly married to James.’
‘Something like that,’ she nodded.
‘Which means you aren’t married, which also means I don’t give a damn about St Just and the hold he has over you—–’
‘There is no hold over me!’ she cut in.
‘Which means,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘I intend to have you for myself.’
‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Her eyes widened.
‘You can’t be that innocent. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I want you. St Just knew it, that’s why you’re here with me now, and you know it too, don’t you?’ His look was caressing.
‘And do you get everything you want?’ The question came out huskily; she was affected by the look in spite of herself.
‘Usually.’ One strong hand caressed her creamy cheek, touching and parting her soft lips. ‘Am I going to get you?’
‘No,’ she answered firmly, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt. She found it hard to articulate at all, that hand causing strange sensations in her inexperienced body. What had James done, allowing her out with this—this rake! This man emitted sex-appeal without any conscious effort on his part, the heat of his body and the smouldering look in his green eyes enough to turn her legs to jelly.
He moved slightly, bringing his body up close against hers, their two heartbeats sounding as one. ‘Are you sure about that?’ His breath ruffled the hair at her temple, the smell of his aftershave and the cheroots he smoked invading her nostrils to make her aware only of him.
Kate felt mesmerised by the sleepy passion she could see in his eyes, dragging her own gaze away with effort. ‘I—I think so,’ she answered breathlessly.
Damien gave her one last lingering look before he straightened, opening his car door to come round to her side of the car and help her out of the low vehicle. ‘Then you’re going to be wrong,’ he promised softly against her ear, towering above her in the evening’s fading light.
‘I am?’ she squeaked.
‘You are.’ He took her elbow to guide her through the open front door of the mansion and into what
