She folded her arms again and regarded Benjamin Carter as best she could from several inches less in height.
Benjamin Carter, damn him, just smiled.
‘There’s no need to be patronising, sweetheart.’
Heat washed up over her chest and neck. She’d never usually descend to such rudeness, but this man, under his guise as a stranger, had seen her react in a way that made her want to crawl under a rock and hide.
‘And, yes’ he said now, ‘you are coming with me. Because if you don’t I will tell the charity’s CEO that contrary to your public acceptance of the bet, you’re not actually willing to fulfil your end of the bargain and therefore I will be withdrawing my funds.’
All the heat left Lia’s body as her blood rushed south. ‘You wouldn’t dare. Not when everyone knows how much you donated.’
He took his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Do you really want to test me?’
Right now he looked as immovable as a mountain. And Lia had serious doubts about what he would do if she did test him. Clearly a man like this, who could make such obscenely huge gestures, was beholden to no one and wouldn’t hesitate to prove his point.
Feeling utterly cornered and trapped, Lia said, ‘Why are you doing this...? If it’s not for spite...then what?’
He looked at her for a long moment and she couldn’t read his expression.
Then he said, ‘It’s very simple, Lia. I want you.’
THE AIR SIZZLED between them and Ben’s very direct words seemed to hang between them like a dare. What was it about this woman that seemed to arouse the beast in him? That made him do crazy things like pretend to be a stranger? And make outrageous public bids?
Her eyes were huge, as if she was still absorbing what he’d said, and then she responded, with a frigid tone to her voice. ‘You want me enough to pay one million dollars for the pleasure? I don’t know who you’re used to consorting with, or who you think I am, but I’m not some kind of high-class—’
‘I know exactly who you are,’ he said curtly, cutting her off, surprised at the rapid surge of anger her insinuation had provoked.
It had been a long time since he’d felt the need to justify himself to anyone—much less to someone who came from the same part of society that had turned its back on him and left him to fend for himself. In that respect England and America were one and the same.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop himself saying stiffly, ‘I’ve never paid for a woman in my life. I don’t need to.’
Intriguingly, she blushed, and suddenly she didn’t look so confident. ‘What do you mean, you know exactly who I am?’
The nerve she’d struck, however inadvertently, made him say, ‘You might not be royalty but you’re a princess. Someone who has probably been denied nothing in her whole life. You don’t like me because I turn you on, and you don’t like being turned on by someone you consider beneath you.’ He continued, ‘Out on that terrace, before my identity was revealed, you had no prejudices holding you back because evidently you had judged that I was someone a little more...refined.’
The play of reactions across her face was mesmerising. Shock. Anger. Insult. And then fire. ‘You played with me like a cat with a mouse. And, in light of your opinion, I fail to see why you’d want to subject yourself to spending a whole weekend with me.’
Lia went to move around him, to get away, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her skin was silky smooth and warm, her arm slender under his hand. He felt crass then, and boorish. Not fit to touch someone as exquisite as her. But he held on and she swung around to face him, eyes flashing.
‘Let me go, damn you. And for the record, you don’t turn me on—not in the slightest.’
A challenge to disprove her rose hot and urgent through his body and Ben put both hands on her arms. But then, through the obvious anger she displayed, he caught a glimpse of something else in those stunning eyes...something almost like hurt. Hurt that he’d been accurate in his assessment of her and she wasn’t used to hearing the bald truth? Or because he’d got it wrong?
He forced a modicum of civility back into his overheated brain. ‘I didn’t mean what I said as a personal attack. You’re a product of your upbringing, that’s all, and I was merely pointing out that I’m well aware that you’re the furthest thing imaginable from a high-class hooker.’
That curious expression faded from her eyes, making Ben feel foolish for suspecting for a second that he’d hurt her because he’d got her wrong, and then she tensed under his hands, as if to leave again, and everything in him rejected it. The urge to disprove her assertion that she didn’t want him was calling to the most primitive part of him.
‘But I’m afraid I can’t accept the lie.’
‘What lie?’ Now she looked wary.
‘This lie.’ And then he hauled her right into his body and covered her mouth with his.
Everything that had just passed between them was forgotten as the world seemed to combust into white heat. All Ben could feel was the press of that soft lush mouth and her body, moulding to his as if made for him alone.
* * *
All Lia could feel at first was steel, and then she realised it was the sheer hard-muscled strength of Benjamin Carter’s body against hers, his hands tight on her arms. Her body was pressed so closely to his that her breasts were flattened against his chest, her nipples tingling from the contact.
And then, as if encouraged by the fact that she wasn’t pulling away, his hold gentled minutely and his mouth became less of a searing brand and started to move on hers. Lia knew that she should be using this as an opportunity to pull free, stand back, demand to know what the hell he thought he was doing—especially after that heated exchange... But, treacherously, she didn’t. Or couldn’t.
One of his arms was sliding around her back now, pulling her in closer. And before she could stop herself she was responding to his kiss, her mouth softening and opening, and at the first touch of his tongue to hers she had no hope of remaining sane. Lia realised she was clutching at something to stay standing and that it was his arms, his biceps bulging under the material of his jacket, reminding her of the awesome power of his body.
There was something about this evidence of his sheer unadulterated masculinity that made her feel very feminine. It was seriously addictive. Yet the fact that she found his very masculine differences so attractive was unexpected and disorientating.
Certainly her ex-fiancé had never made her feel this...hot, or this desperate. This was wholly new and all too treacherously exhilarating.
Benjamin Carter’s hand was cradling the back of her head now, and his other hand was on her hip, fingers digging into her flesh. She could feel his erection against her and it didn’t shock her—it made her want to move against him. She wanted to feel him notch it against her, between her legs where she felt slick and swollen. She felt a curious hollowness, a desire to be filled...
His
