Mistress to the Merciless Millionaire. Эбби Грин

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Mistress to the Merciless Millionaire - Эбби Грин Mills & Boon Modern

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again. ‘Don’t worry. It’s mutual.’ His blue eyes speared hers. ‘You’ve never forgotten that night, Kate, have you? It’s why you always freeze me out every time we meet.’

      She shook her head, his intuition sending shockwaves through her whole body. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It was so long ago…of course I’ve…’ She hitched up her chin defiantly. ‘I’ve more than kissed men since then, Tiarnan. What did you think? That I’ve hugged my pillow to sleep every night, dreaming of you?’

      The awful thing was, she could remember the mortification that had led her to rid herself of her virginity as soon as was humanly possible after that night—and what an excruciating disappointment it had been.

      His mouth had become a thin line of displeasure. ‘I wouldn’t imagine for a second that you haven’t had lovers, Kate.’

      He reached out and took her hand, gripped it so that she couldn’t pull away, and Kate was caught, trapped by her own weak responses: lust, and the building of guilty exhilaration. Her heart beat frantically against her breastbone.

      ‘But did any of them make you feel the way I did after just a kiss? Did any of them make you want them so badly that it was all you could think about? Dream about?’

      Tiarnan felt momentarily shocked by his words and the emotion behind them; until recently, until he’d set on this course to seduce Kate, he’d never really allowed himself to acknowledge what her effect on him had been. Touching her now, confronting this for the first time, was bringing it all back in vivid detail. Her hand felt small, soft and yet strong. He could feel her pulse beating under the skin.

      Kate saw a red mist descend. The exhilaration dissipated. His words were so close to the bone—too close to the bone. She pulled her hand from his grasp and curled it tight against her chest.

      ‘How dare you? How dare you come back into my life like this, making assumptions? Judgements? Asking me about things you’ve no right to know?’

      Tiarnan looked at her and felt more sure than ever.

      ‘I have a right, Kate, because one kiss clearly wasn’t enough. This has been building between us all these years…this desire to know what it might have been like.’

      Anger rushed through her, gathering force, and she used it before she could dissolve again. She stood up on shaky legs and looked down as imperiously as she could. But then Tiarnan stood too, altering the dynamic, taking some of the fire out of her anger, making her remember just how tall he was, how broad and strong.

      She hitched her chin. ‘I think dormant is a more appropriate word, and dormant is how it’ll stay, Tiarnan. What’s brought on this revelation? The fact that you thought you saw something in France? You saw nothing except what you wanted to see. I’ve no intention of becoming a notch on your bedpost just to satisfy some belated curiosity on your part.’

      She walked around the table, as if to leave, but Tiarnan moved too and blocked her way. Kate saw a couple of people looking at them in her peripheral vision. She stalled and looked up, tried to shut out the way looking into Tiarnan’s eyes had always made her feel as if she was drowning. She gritted her teeth.

      ‘Could you please move? You’re blocking my exit.’

      ‘Need I remind you,’ he said silkily, ‘that you were the one so determined to score that notch in the first place? We both know that if I hadn’t stopped when I still could I would have taken your innocence on the rug in front of that fire…’

      Those softly spoken words smashed through the last vestiges of Kate’s dignity and defence. She looked up at him and beseeched with everything in her. ‘Please. Get out of my way, Tiarnan.’

      He shook his head. ‘I’m walking you to your room.’

      ‘I’m perfectly capable of walking myself, and have been for some time now.’

      His voice had steel running through it. ‘Nevertheless, I’ll walk you to your room—or do you want me to make a spectacle of both of us and carry you out of here?’

      One jet-black brow was arched. Kate didn’t doubt him for a second. Tiarnan had never been one to give a damn about what people thought.

      She felt unbelievably prim as she bit out, ‘That won’t be necessary. You can escort me to my room if you insist.’

      He finally moved aside to let her pass, and Kate stalked towards the entrance of the bar feeling stiff all over, her shoulders so straight and tense that she felt as if she’d crack if someone even touched her. She pressed the button for the lift and looked resolutely up at the display above the door as she waited. Tiarnan stood beside her, a huge, impossibly immovable force. Heat and electricity crackled between them. There was such tension in the air that Kate wanted to scream.

      No one reduced her to this. No one. She was dignified, calm, collected. She knew she had a reputation for being cool and it hurt her—she was the least cold of people. She could turn it on when it suited her, but it wasn’t really her. Cold histrionics and dramatics had been the territory of her mother. Kate had learnt at an early age to be a pretty, placid foil for her mother’s effervescent beauty.

      The lift arrived and the bell pinged, making Kate jump and then curse silently. She hadn’t thought about her mother like that for a long time; Tiarnan’s disturbing presence and even more disturbing assertions were effortlessly hurtling her back in time.

      He stepped into the lift with her, and the space contracted around them when the doors closed. Kate pressed the button for her floor and looked at Tiarnan irritably when he didn’t make a move to do the same. ‘Which floor?’

      Tiarnan looked at her glaring up at him. She was so beautiful. All fire and brimstone underneath that icy façade. Her eyes were flashing, her cheeks were pink and her breasts rose and fell enticingly under the bodice of her dress. She was rattled, seriously rattled, and he had to admit he was surprised at what was so close to the surface.

      In truth he’d imagined this happening much more easily. He’d imagined a sophisticated woman embarking on a wellworn groove, both of them knowing and acting out their parts. But right now he was rattled too. She was resisting him. He couldn’t think. All he wanted was to stop the lift, drag her into his arms and plunder her soft mouth. It had been too long since he’d tasted that inner sweetness, and the brief all too chaste kiss earlier had only proved to make his desire even more pronounced. But he knew he couldn’t. He had to tread carefully or he might lose Kate for ever—and he didn’t like the panicky feeling that generated. He didn’t do panic.

      Kate turned and folded her arms crossly, inadvertently giving Tiarnan an even more enticing view of her cleavage. She was sending out desperate silent vibes: Get away from me! Leave me alone! And as the lift climbed the floors with excruciating slowness that was exactly what he did. He actually moved further away. Back towards the wall. And when Kate sent him a suspicious glance she saw that he was leaning back, hands in his pockets, looking at the ceiling. He was even whistling softly.

      The lift finally came to a smooth halt and Kate all but ran out through the doors, taking her door key from her purse as she did so. She expected him to be right behind her. She’d seen a new side to him tonight: implacable, ruthless. Determined. It intimidated her. It excited her. She got to her door and slid the key into the slot, her hands barely steady after that revelation.

      But if he thought for a second that she was going to meekly turn around now

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