Revenge Page 8

  'You haven't failed...'

  There it was again, that uncanny way he knew what was going through her mind.

  '... I just need time to sort it out in my mind. And don't think you've failed with Stroben. I have to say that, without your efforts, your company would have sunk long ago.'

  Painfully, she couldn't accept that for the compliment it was meant to be. She smiled cynically. 'It's sinking none the less and you're going to take advantage of that, aren't you?'

  Anger tautened his features. 'I'm a businessman, Alexia; I don't make rash emotional decisions that might lose me money.'

  'So what is rash and emotional about this whole business?'

  He studied her for a full minute before replying to that and then he spoke very, very quietly. 'I'm on very dangerous ground here, Alexia. I could very easily fall for that wide-eyed look of yours and lose myself a fortune.'

  'I doubt that, Harry Masters. You're cautious but not stupid—but don't take that as a compliment. You haven't got the power and the money they say you have by falling for any supposed wide-eyed look from any female.'

  'We're not talking of any female, Alexia, we are talking about you and the effect you have on me. I want you and I'm getting distinct vibes that your defences are finally slipping. Dangerous for us both.'

  She smiled defensively and vowed to keep a hold on those vibes in future. 'I don't see what that has to do with your taking over my company.'

  'Depends which way you look at it. I could be tempting you into bed to strengthen my hold over your emotions. Women are notorious for letting their hearts rule their heads—on the other hand you could be playing the same devious game. Trying to seduce me till I'm so punch drunk you get all the terms you are demanding for your company.'

  She laughed thinly and then shook her head. 'I'm really not clever enough for that, or that desperate for your body or your money. But thanks for the warning about your motivations. And remember one thing, Harry: the day you treat me as a director of an engineering firm and not a prospective lay is the day we get some business done.'

  He laughed. 'I enjoy you, Alexia, I enjoy you very much.'

  He stood up and stretched and Alexia couldn't help but be totally aware of the power of his perfect physique. Her eyes reluctantly flicked him over from toe to head and when his eyes met hers on their travels he laughed softly but made no comment.

  Alexia stemmed every pulse of blood that threatened her face. 'So there is no point in my staying if you are not prepared to give me a decision.'

  'Well, you can't leave. Your car isn't ready and I'm not willing to drive you back yet so I fear we must make the most of each other's company this weekend.'

  Her whole body froze at the thought of what he had in mind. It showed on her face too, because he laughed and said, 'Don't panic, Alexia. I'm very patient and you're not ready yet, so for the time being why don't we spend some time outside and enjoy the weather?'

  She remembered his last suggestion as to what to do under the sun and was about to refuse any sort of offer but how else would she pass the time? Out was infinitely safer than in, though.

  'I haven't any walking shoes with me, only a pair of Gucci loafers.'

  'Those will do for wandering around the farm. Are you interested?' To her own surprise, she was.

  Alexia took time and trouble over her appearance that evening, blow-drying her voluminous hair till it billowed seductively over her shoulders. She was exacting with her make-up, just as she would be when dining with a client, and her dress was her best, a very expensive off-white silk creation from the Dellini house.

  Harry had suggested dinner out and she had readily accepted. Safer out than in again. Though would she ever feel safe with him in any circumstances? He'd made the most of every opportunity to touch her all afternoon. Helping her over that awkward stile, his hands lingering possessively round her waist, taking her hand to guide her around puddles and mud. And he had known what he was doing to her. Trouble was, she hadn't been able to hide it.

  'Stunning,' he breathed as she came down the stairs when she was ready. 'Though what the locals will make of you I don't know.'

  Over-dressed again, no doubt. 'Slumming tonight, are we? Well, tough. If the locals can't handle a bit of the twentieth century that's their problem, not mine!'

  'Oh, dear, Alexia, there you go again, all waspish defence.' He came towards her and took her hands. 'What happened? This afternoon you were sweet and relaxed and you actually laughed when I nearly slipped over in the mud.'

  This afternoon had been something else. Now the night was approaching and with it the tension and defensiveness. Alexia drew her hands from his. 'I've never been described as sweet before.'

  He grinned. 'How does it hang?'

  'Uncertainly. Any compliment from you hangs uncertainly. Shall we go, then?'

  His hand came up and smoothed her long sable-brown hair from her shoulders. Alexia willed away the pulse of heat that flamed every time he touched her. 'If you keep hammering my compliments back at me like that, Alexia, we are going to get nowhere this evening.'

  'I thought this was going to be a social evening? You suggested a quiet candlelit dinner...' She stopped mid-sentence and the flame burned. Of course, that was exactly what he meant too. Dinner, wine, followed by the obligatory seduction. 'You are so damned predictable,' she slammed back at him.

  'And so are you, sweetheart,' he drawled smoothly. 'So why don't you just accept it?'

  'Accept what, may I ask?'

  'That I'm going to love you tonight.'

  She smiled at that. 'You're sublimely confident of that, aren't you?'

  'I think it's a foregone conclusion,' he told her confidently, but there was a betraying glimmer of mockery in his dark eyes.

  'This is all a tease to you, isn't it? Push me far enough and I might comply?'

  'You're a tough nut to crack.'

  'Clichés, clichés. Well, try this one for size. I don't mix business with pleasure and you're business, Harry Masters.'

  'And you're going broke, Alexia. Make your choice—bankruptcy or bed.'

  Anger burned now within Alexia. She was dealing with a mega-bastard here. Her hand came up and she prodded her forefinger into his lightweight grey suit. 'I'll tell you something. I'd rather lose my shirt in the bankruptcy court than by your hands.'

  He took her forefinger in his very masterful hand and placed it in his very masterful mouth and drew on it, so damned erotically that Alexia's legs went weak. By the time he released it she was burning from head to toe.

  'You ask for everything you get, Alexia. Bankruptcy, bed, it's all a certainty for you. But I'm sure you can live without the former.'

  'Not at the expense of my body and emotions,' she told him flintily. 'And the sooner you realise that, the better!'

  He laughed and looked into her wild chestnut eyes. 'You keep saying it, Alexia, but I wonder why I don't believe it.'

  'Well, to repeat another much-used cliché, it's probably because you are a male chauvinist pig!'

  'And don't women love us?' he teased and took her arm and guided her to the front door. 'It's true, you know,' he went on as he opened the door. 'People actually make a living out of conducting surveys about men and women and what turns them on. Women love rats and would much rather be...'

  Oh, there was more, much more on those lines. He kept it up till they reached the restaurant, by which time Alexia was actually laughing at his pompous arrogance. Sometimes you couldn't fight Harry Masters, and for the moment she wasn't going to try. Later she would need all the fight she could muster.

  She stepped out of the sleek Jaguar and slammed shut the door.

  'Talking about compliments,' she said reflectively as he took her elbow and escorted her up the front steps of a quaint Italian trattoria, very out of place in its rural surroundings but nevertheless packed to full capacity, 'I take it as a compliment that you decided to transport me here in something decent. I couldn't have handled the jeep tonight
after that exhaustive tour of your rural splendour this afternoon.'

  He squeezed her elbow as the manager greeted them. 'Sorry to disappoint you, Cinderella, but even I draw the line at bumming it in one of my best suits.'

  She was still laughing when they were intimately ensconced in a very romantic corner of the very dimly lit restaurant.

  The menu was extensive and while they perused it Harry ordered champagne.

  Alexia raised a brow. 'A bit premature, don't you think? We haven't come to an agreement yet.'

  'I have.'

  'You are going to buy?' Her eyes were wide with expectation.

  His reply was quiet and hummed with meaning. 'I don't expect to pay for it, sweetheart.' His eyes locked with hers and she knew.

  Surprisingly the rush of heated anger didn't come. More a warm trickle of...could it be anticipation?

  She lowered her eyes and her fingers coiled around the stem of her glass. She stared down at the rising bubbles of her wine. Something was happening. Something within her was changing. As the bubbles rose to the surface so did the realisation in her heart. She raised liquid eyes to look at Harry Masters. For once he wasn't looking at her but reading the menu. She could study him unobserved and she did. The adjective handsome was an injustice. He was much more than that. He was complete, a whole fascinating entity. Funny, puzzling, infuriating and very desirable. She put everything behind her. Her company problems, her bitterness towards him over the years. Alexia Townsend, Harry Masters here together with nothing between them but a flickering candle-flame. If she had to make the decision now, at this very minute, to love him tonight or not, the answer would be yes.

  Slowly, almost nervously, she raised her glass to her moist lips, a silent toast to what might be.

  Harry's eyes lazily drifted back to hers, knowingly and confidently, and for once she knew what he was thinking.

  'You've made a decision, then,' he said smoothly, and there was no doubt what he meant.

  How very sure of himself he was. And how very close to the truth those surveys were. Women went for fascinating bastards like him. The thought didn't rankle with Alexia this time, though. She smiled, raised one dark silky brow, and lightly drummed the tips of her fingers on the leather-bound menu.

  'Tagliatelle and...meatballs,' she murmured huskily, and Harry Masters threw his head back and roared with laughter.

  CHAPTER SIX

  'Harry Masters! I am not drunk!' Alexia giggled.

  Harry helped her out of the car with a sigh of defeat. 'Well, after two hundred glasses of champagne, you should be!' he grated drily.

  Alexia giggled and fell against him, letting him take her weight as she hobbled to the front door.

  'Something's wrong here,' she croaked. 'Aren't you supposed to sweep me into your arms and carry me over the threshold?'

  'Only newly-wed husbands do that, strong ones, too. I've had a taste of your weight, remember, and I value my vertebrae.'

  'Hey, what happened to romance?' she cried, leaning on the porchway as he fumbled for his keys.

  He looked at her and shook his head in disbelief. 'That went out the door after the zabaglione.'

  Alexia smothered another giggle behind her hand. 'That zabby stuff was far more potent than the champagne,' she uttered weakly. She wasn't drunk, she really wasn't, a little tipsy and mellow but that wasn't her fault. She was in love and the champagne had been so good.

  'Oh, God!' she moaned as she fell into the nearest chair in the sitting-room, covering her face with her hands. Suddenly she felt very weak and silly and she knew what her behaviour had done to the latter part of the evening. She'd spoilt it, ruined it, and all because of this terrible fear that had pressured inside her. 'I've blown it, haven't I?' she groaned.

  Harry crouched down beside her, eased her hands down and smoothed her tousled hair from her cheek's.

  'Nerves,' he breathed softly.

  Her chestnut eyes widened. He knew, and who had she thought she was fooling? It had hit her as soon as they'd got into the car. Yes, she was a bit tipsy but something had tipped her over the edge of tipsy. Possibly the realisation that the night had been too beautiful, the food and the wine too perfect and him, so funny and nice and desirable. Yes, in the car it had flooded her, the pointlessness of it all. If she allowed herself this pleasurable weakness now she would suffer for it in the future, and she couldn't face that pain.

  'I'm sorry,' she breathed, slowly raising her head to look into his eyes.

  'Don't apologise,' he told her gently, and then grinned. 'It doesn't suit you. Now, can you get upstairs without me having to call the fire brigade? I'll make some coffee and bring it up.'

  She sniffed and nodded and shakily got to her feet. He went with her to the bottom of the stairs and then she assured him she was OK and went up.

  Alexia swore the big beautiful four-poster was laughing at her. She stood at the foot of it and tears filled her eyes. Tonight she had made a decision, to love Harry Masters in this special loving bed, but it had all gone hopelessly wrong. Fear had taken the place of desire and she didn't need a psychiatrist to spell it out to her. She didn't want to be hurt and that was the oldest, silliest damned cliché in the world.

  She undressed and slid her satin nightie over her head and crawled under the covers and waited for Harry. Funny but she knew she was safe. She must have been the biggest turn-off of the decade giggling like that.

  'I made it black and sweet,' he told her as she sat up and took the cup from him. He sat on the edge of the bed and Alexia smiled.

  'Thanks. You're really quite a nice person, aren't you?'

  'My mother thinks so.'

  'I'd like to...' She stopped; no, not that 'I'd like to meet your mother' bit. It would sound so determined. 'I'd like to go to sleep in a minute,' she finished.

  He smiled. 'And you will,' he murmured. He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips. That was all. Just a kiss, a sweet tender kiss.

  She lay back on the pillows after he had closed the door behind him and squeezed shut her eyes as desolation swept her.

  She awoke hours later, hot and restless. It was dark and she leaned over to look at her travelling clock by the bed. Three o'clock. Was Harry still sleeping? If she hadn't been so stupid he would be lying next to her now. She got up and opened the window wider and the air outside was just as stifling.

  'Are you all right?'

  She swung round from the window and instinctively clutched at the warm satin at her breast. The moon was bright and she could see him quite clearly, standing in the doorway in shirt-sleeves and jeans.

  'You haven't been to bed.'

  He stepped towards her. 'Couldn't sleep.'

  And she had. Why did she feel guilty for that? 'What have you been doing?' she murmured.

  He shrugged and stopped in front of her, close enough for her to be sharply aware of his warmth and his smell. He took her hands from her breast and let them drop to her side, a simple gesture that told her not to be afraid.

  'Trying to work and trying to think, both impossible.' His voice was low and husky. 'And you, what have you been doing?'

  'Sleeping,' she admitted. 'And then I woke up, it was hot...'

  'And you got up to open the window.' His hands came up and lightly caressed her bare shoulders and suddenly the doubt and the hopelessness left her. He'd been waiting for her, waiting for her to wake up. He could have loved her last night but she had been silly and gauche and had drunk too much and he had waited.

  'Harry --'

  'Shush.' He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her lightly, tenderly, promisingly. 'Tell me,' he breathed softly, 'do you want this to happen, do you want us to make love?'

  He was giving her a choice and now was the chance to back out—if she wanted to. But there was no choice, it was all a certainty as he had predicted. She wanted to love him and whatever happened after didn't matter. At this precise moment he wanted her too, and she didn't want to think further than that. She lifted her han
d and ran it tenderly down the side of his face and it was answer enough.

  Moonlight lit his face and she expected to see some sort of triumph in his eyes but there was none, only a half-smile of satisfaction on his lips.

  He lifted her and carried her to the beautiful, special loving bed and laid her down on the crumpled cover. She watched and waited as slowly, unhurriedly, he took off his clothes. His body was beautiful, perfectly sculptured and muscled, and very hairy, even his shoulders. She'd never seen a body so blatantly masculine. She allowed herself one small wayward thought, one tiny ineffectual comparison with the only other man she had allowed to love her, and then it would all be over, exorcised from her mind and her life forever. Rex was nothing compared to this man. This man was excitement, was life, was pure power and sexual magnetism. Naked now, he stood looking down at her, and her heart pulsed deeply at the thought that even now he was unsure of her.

  'Alexia?' he breathed, and she smiled and lifted her hand to him.

  Relief seemed to surge through him as he took her hand and she urged him towards her. The bed creaked under his weight, or was it a sigh? As if the bed knew the difference between right and wrong.

  His mouth was soft and yielding when it closed over hers and she parted her lips under his, inflaming his desire till she felt his power rise against the fine satin of her nightie.

  His hands moved over her body, slowly, tantalisingly, drawing her down and down into his heated desire. The slippery satin added to rather than detracted from the swimming sensation of drowning in her own emotions. She floated, rose and fell, soared as he flowered kisses over her jawline and then gently nipped at her earlobe till she could stand it no longer and turned her face to take the full impact of his mouth on her own.

  Her desire pulsed sharply as he shifted the slippery fabric up over her thighs. He released her mouth and looked down at her before smiling secretly and then lowering his head to trail kisses over her warm thighs.

  Then there was heat, a raging flood of heat as he parted her with his thumbs to kiss her inner sweetness. Alexia gasped in shocked amazement at the deep, wonderful throbbing sensation it powered through her.