When the onslaught finally came she wasn’t prepared for it, her body relaxed from his hands upon her fevered skin. Suddenly she wasn’t sitting any more but stretched out lengthwise on the sofa, Damien’s long lean length close against her. Her hands were up around his shoulders, touching his warm skin inside his now fully unbuttoned shirt. Her eyes were closed, her throat bared to the warmth of his lips.
‘Oh, Damien,’ she breathed, knowing she would regret this later but for the moment not giving a damn. ‘You go to my head,’ she admitted softly.
His green eyes smouldered down at her. ‘I don’t think I’m solely to blame for that. How much have you had to drink?’
She touched that fascinating dimple in his chin, something she had felt tempted to do ever since she had seen him for the first time yesterday. ‘I only had two,’ she answered vaguely.
‘At Matt’s?’ he asked sharply.
Kate pouted up at him, admiring his lean tough body in the close-fitting shirt and trousers. ‘Mm,’ her tongue slowly moistened her lips. ‘Is it important?’
He groaned in his throat, burying his face in her hair. ‘Not right at this moment. God, you’re lovely!’ He looked down at her. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’ His eyes were tortured.
She looked up at him innocently. ‘Do what, Damien?’
‘Lick your lips like that.’ His mouth briefly covered hers. ‘It’s very provocative.’
‘She smiled happily. ‘Is it?’
He smiled too. ‘You’ve definitely had too much to drink. And I’m not sure I’m up to this sudden change. A little while ago you would have fought like a she-cat not to be in my arms.’
Her look was one of pure challenge. ‘What’s the matter, aren’t you interested now that I’m no longer fighting you? Are you one of these men who enjoy the chase but not the capture?’
‘You silly child, I want you, whether you fight me or not. I must say I prefer you soft and pliant in my arms, but if it has to be a fight then a fight it will be. Victory can be very sweet.’
‘You’re sure you’ll win then?’
‘Oh, undoubtedly,’ he confirmed softly.
Kate laughed slightly. ‘You’re very arrogant, Damien. A veritable devil, in fact.’
‘Mm, are you complaining?’
‘I—’ her voice faltered, her head began to swim. ‘I feel strange, Damien.’ Her voice sounded faint to her ears. What on earth was wrong with her?
He raised his head to look down at her suddenly pale face. ‘Oh no,’ he swore angrily, shaking her roughly. ‘Those drinks, what were they?’ He sat up, looking down at her anxiously.
Her mind didn’t seem to be functioning. She ran a hand over her aching temple. ‘I—er—I can’t remember.’ Her eyes were wide with distress.
His grip tightened on her forearms. ‘Come on, Kate, think. Answer me!’
‘I—It—Martini and lemonade—I think,’ she added lamely, starting to feel sick now.
‘Oh, hell!’ His mouth tightened. ‘And was Jerry Saunders in charge of the bar? A stocky man with long dark hair and wearing glasses,’ he explained at her puzzled look.
‘I—I think so.’ Her eyes just wouldn’t focus, Damien’s features were taking on a hazy shape that didn’t seem to make sense.
‘God, I could kill him! The stupid—! Just wait until I see him again, I’m likely to do him some physical damage.’
‘I don’t understand, Damien. I—I want to go home. I feel ill.’
‘But you aren’t going home, especially not in this state.’ His hand smoothed back her hair. ‘You’re staying here tonight, with me.’
She shook her head. ‘No—no, I have to go home. I mustn’t stay here, Damien, I mustn’t.’ She swung her legs to the ground, attempting to stand up and falling back down again. ‘Damien, I think I’m going to …’ she collapsed back against the silk cushions in a dead faint.
Damien shook her, but to no avail, his face contorted with rage. ‘Damn and blast Jerry to hell!’ He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.
* * *
Kate awoke with a feeling of well-being, the bedclothes pulled right up to her chin. She moved her head slowly, not quite sure where she was. Then it all came back to her—Matt Strange’s party, coming back to Damien’s apartment. She even vaguely remembered what had taken place on the sofa. And then nothing.
Her face flushed a fiery red. What had happened after that? What had she done? More to the point, where was she? This bedroom didn’t look familiar, in fact it wasn’t even the one with the fourposter bed that Damien had shown her into yesterday. No, this was a much more masculine looking room, the decor in subdued green and cream. It was a man’s room. It had to be Damien Savage’s bedroom!
But what was she doing in here— That was a stupid question! It must be obvious to anyone what she was doing in here, what must have taken place in this very room the night before. Oh God, no! Surely he hadn’t— But what other explanation was there? If only she could remember, if only everything hadn’t seemed in such a haze.
She sat up, forcing herself to think calmly and not to panic. It wasn’t easy, especially as her sitting up revealed that she seemed to be wearing a black silk pyjama jacket, a man’s pyjama jacket that was much too big for her. It reached almost down to her knees as she stepped out of bed, obviously meant for a much larger person than herself. Damien…?
‘Good morning, angel,’ he drawled, walking into the bedroom, a cup of coffee in one hand and some buttered toast on a plate in the other. And he was wearing the pyjama trousers that belonged to the jacket she had on! Nothing else, just the trousers. ‘Your breakfast,’ he smiled at her.
Kate
