her and hurt her. She wouldn’t have blamed him. He didn’t. A moan escaped her as he flipped her easily, sandwiching her facedown between the sand and his hard body.
Hating her complete loss of restraint, she wiggled to be free. The silky sand shifted and glided beneath her until his hard body slipped and covered hers in a sinuous whisper that made her mouth dry. His body slammed into her from behind with just enough force to still her.
“Stop it, Olivia.”
His breath sounded choppy and disjointed as he raised himself away from her. But it was too late. The incredible caress of his erection against her backside was etched on her body forever.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He already had. Olivia breathed in and out, sand flying into her mouth, hating the gnawing sensation in her stomach. Why would Alexander King’s opinion have the power to hurt her? She gave that power to no man, not anymore—not since she’d realized she was only asking for more heartache.
She raised her head and turned around. She could do nothing about the trembling in her stomach, but she filled her words with scorn. “I kissed you because I was pretending to be Kim. And, yes, for some unfathomable reason I’m attracted to you. But the whole world knows I’ve the worst taste in men. What’s your excuse?”
* * *
He didn’t have one.
Alexander couldn’t remember the last time he had been so aroused, felt so out of tune with his own body. He usually had no problem controlling his needs as it suited him. Yet in that moment he’d had to summon the last ounce of his self-discipline to stay still. Adrenaline pumped through him, begging for release. He sucked a breath in and counted to ten. His muscles burned. He clenched his teeth.
He loosened his grip on her wrists. Her skin was smooth against his fingerpads. Greedily he drank in the luscious temptation she presented. His thighs shook with the need to lean back into her so that he could feel the inviting cradle of her butt against his erection. Desire rattled through him. He moved his fingers up her arm toward the delicate arch of her neck. She gasped. He jerked back as though burned.
What the hell was he doing? He needed to find out where Kim was, get on a flight to Paris... Instead, he...
He moved to his knees and pulled himself away from her, his mind whirring. “What you provoke in me is a physical reaction—purely animalistic. Temporary insanity fueled by six months of abstinence. There’s nothing more I despise in the world than a man or a woman who can’t control those impulses.”
As though the fight had left her, she sagged into the ground, careful to move her body away from his. “Please, Alexander. Let me go.”
Shifting back, he stared at her, unwilling to touch her even to pull her up.
She sat up and pushed her hair out of her face, her movements jumpy, her willowy body trembling. His gaze fell to the impressions on her wrists. He sank back to his knees with a silent thud, feeling an invisible punch to his gut. Dear God, he had done that to her. Even in the silver light of the moon there was no mistaking the light red marks on her wrists.
Whatever she had done, however much she had provoked him, there was no excuse. Everything he hated within himself, everything he kept tightly bound, had snapped free in a matter of seconds. Shame spiraled through him, cooling his desire, drenching him in a cold sweat—a familiar sick feeling that greeted him like an old friend.
To use brute strength to control...it was the lowest he could sink to.
He pulled her hands into his and cursed when she pulled back like a frightened cat. “We should run some cold water on your wrists.”
She stood up, dusting away the sand from her body, her gaze pointedly looking away from him. “I’ve had worse. This is nothing.”
He hated the clawing need to explain that he wasn’t that man. But he wouldn’t be able to look at himself if he didn’t. “You probably don’t expect better from the men in your life.” He ignored her gasp. “I expect better of myself.” He tilted his head, seeking again the proof of his boorish behavior. “I apologize, Olivia. Nothing justifies my behavior.”
Her gaze studied him, disbelief pouring out of her stiff shoulders. “I provoked you. I—”
He shook his head. “That’s the pathetic excuse of a weak man.”
She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off.
Stepping back from her, he fisted his hands by his side. “Get dressed. I’ll see you inside.” His words were clipped, his anger at himself coating his throat. “And don’t even think of leaving.”
CHAPTER THREE
IF ALEXANDER HAD assumed that he would be less distracted with her dressed, he was wrong. Just as he stepped into the huge open-plan kitchen Olivia entered through the high archway, covered in his white robe, the one Kim had borrowed from him two days ago, her honey-gold hair gleaming wet, her skin glowing pink.
He pulled his gaze away from the vee of the robe and poured himself a drink from the bar. The sounds of her puttering around the kitchen beat a tattoo in his head. His patience running dangerously thin, he guzzled down his scotch. The erotic reminder of how it had tasted on her was forever imprinted on his mouth.
“I’m waiting, Olivia.”
She slammed the door on the state-of-art steel refrigerator and leaned against it. “Is there any chance of finding food in this godforsaken mansion? Or do you expect me to die of hunger?”
He pushed a chair back and sat down, stretched his legs. A slow ache was beginning to build behind his left eye. “Where’s Kim?”
She glared at him and started digging around in the numerous cabinets. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t play games with me.” He raked a hand through his hair. This morning his life had been mapped out perfectly. He’d been about to marry a woman who was sensible, undemanding—someone who aroused nothing in him except affection and respect, someone who would stand by his side as he gave his sister the life she deserved. Instead, he had slipped the diamond ring on the finger of her antithesis.
“I tend to rebel when threatened—if you don’t already know.” She poked her head out of the drawer she had been searching and ran a hand through her hair. “Add the fact that my stomach is eating itself, I’m very dangerous right now.”
He crossed to her in a minute and cornered her, more annoyed by her presence than Kim’s absence. An irrational reaction if ever he’d had one. “Don’t mistake my patience to be a failing, Olivia.” When she tried to turn away, he shifted his body to block her. The scent of her skin surrounded him, assaulting him with images of her in the shower. “Kim was fine this morning. Until you showed up. It’s obvious that she’s somewhere cleaning up your mess again.”
Her mouth opened in protest. She swallowed. The column of her neck drew his gaze. Her hands swept over her stomach. She was nervous and distressed. Finally he was going to get some answers.
“I’m truly hungry, Alexander,” she said, her mouth a beguiling pout. “I missed lunch and then ate hardly a morsel at the reception. Can’t you order your famous French chef
