Damien looked down at her, his expression grim. ‘Who was the man?’
‘His name is Alan.’ She avoided his eyes.
‘You don’t waste much time, do you? How does James feel about him?’
‘James likes him.’ She could feel the heat of his body through her clothing and it only unnerved her more. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, his own arms like steel bands about her slim body.
‘Then he has more forbearance than I do,’ he muttered. ‘I can’t bear to see any other man touch you.’
Kate tried to move away from him, but it wasn’t very easy in this crush of people. ‘Please don’t start talking like that again. I don’t feel the same way about it.’
‘And this Alan,’ he demanded, ‘is he the marrying kind?’
‘I believe so.’
‘I know so,’ he said roughly. ‘You aren’t marrying him, Kate. You aren’t marrying anyone!’
This time she did pull out of his arms. ‘I’ll marry who I damn well please!’
The look in his eyes was frankly seductive, his mouth only inches away from her own. She looked around for Alan, but he seemed to have disappeared. Kate felt herself weakening towards Damien without the shield of Alan between them.
Damien slowly moved her into the curve of his arm, steering her out towards the pool. But they didn’t stop there, Damien taking her out further to the garden and beyond. Finally he stopped, the noise of the party only a faint murmur in the distance.
Kate looked up at him with troubled brown eyes. ‘Damien …’
‘Oh, Kate!’ He slowly bent his head to caress her throat with firm sensuous lips. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he admitted huskily.
Her protests died in her throat at the gentleness of his tone. Savagery might have evoked a much different response, but this gentleness she just couldn’t fight. ‘Did you really?’ she asked softly, searching his arrogant features as if starved of the sight of him. And she was, she was just hungry for him. His harsh, sometimes cruel face was so dear to her, and for the moment she had forgotten Alan, had forgotten everyone but Damien.
‘Can’t you tell?’ he asked ruefully. ‘I’m sure James could tell you I’ve been hell to work for the last few weeks.’
She gave a soft smile. ‘He did.’
A certain grimness appeared about his mouth. ‘When did you see James?’
She shrugged. ‘This is his party.’
‘I know that,’ he said impatiently. ‘But a party isn’t exactly the sort of place you would hold that sort of conversation. Do you see a lot of him?’
‘Quite a bit, yes.’
Damien’s hold on her arms tightened. ‘It has to stop, Kate. All these other men have to stop. I can’t stand the sight of you with anyone else.’
She was beginning to feel mesmerised by the seduction evident in his eyes. ‘Now look, Damien, I—I haven’t seen you for over two months. You can’t calmly walk back into my life and tell me to stop seeing people I happen to like very much.’
‘I don’t want you to see anyone but me,’ he groaned. ‘You’re much too beautiful for my peace of mind. You ought to be locked up out of sight of other men. You’ve put me through hell the last few weeks. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. Only work seems to dull the pain. I work until I’m so damned exhausted I collapse into a dreamless coma for a couple of hours.’
‘Oh, Damien!’ she was moved by the agony in his voice.
‘Yes—oh, Damien,’ he echoed derisively. ‘You’re so far into my system I can’t think straight. And as for other women—forget it! I can’t feel anything for them.’
‘Oh, Damien,’ she choked.
His mouth tightened and he pulled her roughly against him. ‘Will you stop saying that! Just the sound of you saying my name is enough to turn me on.’ His hands moved caressingly up her body, moulding her against the lean length of him. ‘I’d love to hear you cry out my name as I made love to you.’
His words evoked pictures of the two of them together, rekindled thoughts she had striven to dampen over the past ten weeks.
‘Won’t you let me have you, Kate?’ he pleaded against the softness of her throat, his lips seeming to burn where they touched.
‘You know I can’t,’ she held on to the last of her sanity. ‘I’ve already explained my reasons to you.’
‘Damn your reasons!’ He wrenched up her chin, his mouth savagely forcing her lips apart. When she groaned her pain relented slightly, his lips gently probing but his arms just as immovable.
Why must it always end like this, their being in each other’s arms, their bodies crying out for each other? For Damien it was just basic lust, for her it was love. Both four-letter words and both so different in meaning. But such an important difference!
He was in complete control of her, moving her so that the grass was beneath her, Damien at her side. He turned her towards him, devouring her with that mouth that could look so cruel at times.
It seemed so long since she had been in his arms and it seemed so very right that they should be like this. Her hands were up about his neck, her fingers caressing his nape. His hair felt so thick and vital, so strong, like the rest of him.
She felt dizzy with desire, her body soft and pliant in his hands, her breasts pulsating with life beneath his probing fingers. Her clothing had been no barrier to his questing hands, the buttons down the front of her blouse easily undone and her breasts released to his searching lips.
She came up for air. ‘Damien, please! You said you’d finished with me, that you didn’t want any more to do with me.’
‘I was wrong.’ His lips strayed across her cheek, kissing each closed eyelid in turn. ‘I can’t stay away from you, I don’t want to stay away. We both know what I want.’
‘But I told you—’
‘I
