An Enticing Debt to Pay

by Annie West

  * * *

  Ravenna was back in his bedroom when he returned. At the sight of her tucking in sheets with swift movements, he almost wondered if he’d imagined the last, passionate hours when they’d driven each other to ecstasy again and again.

  His gaze dropped to the length of her legs, revealed as she leaned across to plump up the pillows, and the sweet curve of her bottom against the clingy orange dress.

  Jonas swallowed over sandpaper as his body stirred.

  Then she turned and he saw what she wore. Not the non-descript work clothes he’d fantasised about stripping off her all week. The dress was held in place by a single, provocative tie at the waist. A V neck hinted at her delicious cleavage, but it was the way the dress clung that made his heart hammer. Like lover’s hands it cupped, caressed and flowed over proud breasts, the swell of her hips and a waist that he could almost span with his hands.

  She was blatantly sexy. Her gaze collided with his and that white-hot blast of connection shimmered in the air.

  Hunger slammed into him as if he hadn’t already had his fill of her several times. Instead of sating desire, an afternoon spent in bed had turned him into a randy teenager, driven by his libido, not his brain.

  It unsettled him. He ruled his world through logic and careful planning. Yet he’d lost a precious afternoon’s work and all he could think of was how many moves it would take to have Ravenna naked beneath him again.

  He raked his hand through his hair. He’d left her to seek refuge downstairs, needing to gather himself, yet just one look shattered him all over again.

  ‘Jonas.’ Her voice had a low, throaty quality that would make him think about sex even if she were wearing a sack. ‘I was just coming to look for you.’

  She approached then halted as if having second thoughts.

  ‘I was busy downstairs.’ Busy revisiting that diary. When that got too much he’d taken refuge in thoughts of Ravenna coming apart in his arms, more radiant and alive than any woman he’d known.

  ‘Oh.’ She wiped her hands down her dress, instantly dragging his gaze to her thighs and flat belly.

  Jonas drew in a breath redolent with the tang of feminine arousal. He’d yanked his clothes on without bothering to shower. Till this moment he hadn’t admitted it was because he revelled in the scent of her on his skin.

  He frowned. Why? What made her different from other women?

  He hadn’t even come back here in the hope of more sex. She’d been so exhausted he’d expected her to be asleep. He’d simply returned to be with her—she made him feel good.

  That was a first. An unsettling one.

  ‘Why did you want me?’ It came out gruffly but for once Jonas was incapable of charm.

  Ravenna shrugged but the movement was jerky, betraying nerves. ‘I thought we should talk.’

  He nodded and prowled further into the room. ‘Go ahead.’

  Her eyes widened before she looked down, lashes veiling her eyes. Silently Jonas cursed the loss of even the most basic courtesy. No morning after had ever been so awkward. He had a horrible suspicion it was because none had ever felt quite so important. He was ridiculously on edge.

  ‘We need to talk about us.’

  Every male instinct Jonas possessed hummed to alert.

  ‘Yes?’ He noted the way her gaze skated over his shoulder then to a spot below his ear.

  ‘About this afternoon.’

  Suddenly her uncertainty made sense. He’d been careful about protection, as always, but that last condom had torn. He hadn’t realised she’d noticed and had told himself the chances of it leading to anything were slim.

  ‘Are you on the pill?’

  ‘No.’ Her gaze jerked to his. It wasn’t worry he saw in her face but something indefinable. Instinct told him it was something she didn’t want him to notice.

  ‘I see.’ That complicated matters. Suppose she got pregnant? It wasn’t what he’d planned, but he’d never walk away from a child of his.

  The idea of Ravenna being pregnant with his seed shafted possessiveness through him. ‘If there’s a child—’

  ‘There won’t be a child.’ Her expression was shuttered.

  ‘It’s possible.’

  She shook her head and he read obstinacy in her jaw. ‘You don’t have to worry about it.’

  His belly twisted hard. His mother’s diary had revealed with brutal clarity why he was an only child. After him there’d been an abortion and she’d ensured she didn’t have another baby to the man who’d betrayed her. Jonas had thought he’d plumbed the depths before, but that revelation had torn a gaping hole somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.

  ‘Why?’ The word shot like a bullet. ‘Because you’d terminate it?’

  Ravenna’s face froze. ‘No! Because I know my body and you don’t have anything to worry about.’

  Air escaped his tight lungs and he realised he’d been holding his breath. ‘I see.’

  Ridiculous to feel a pang of regret.

  ‘So what did you want to discuss?’ He stepped closer but made himself stop at arm’s length.

  ‘Us.’ She waved one arm in a gesture that encompassed the bed. ‘I mean, what happens now?’

  Jonas could think of several things he’d like to happen. All involved Ravenna naked. He moved forward but stopped, seeing her draw herself up stiffly. He remembered how demanding he’d been. She could be sore. Jonas tried to feel guilty but couldn’t bring himself to regret what they’d done.

  ‘Things aren’t the same now.’ She fixed him with a keen gaze. ‘Are they?’

  What did she want? An admission that she’d turned him inside out with her sexuality, indomitable spirit and devastating generosity? That moment in the study when she’d offered comfort had undone him. He was so unused to anyone’s concern, he’d repudiated it even as secretly he coveted it.

  He hadn’t managed to fathom what it was he wanted from Ravenna, except more. Until he understood he’d admit nothing.

  ‘Jonas?’ Her tone sharpened.

  ‘What happens now?’ He shrugged, not liking the sensation of being cornered. ‘We both have work to do.’

  Her stare grew fixed. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘No, of course that’s not all. I want to take you back to bed.’ His gaze dropped to the V of her neckline. ‘Hell! I don’t even want to wait that long.’ Heat surged in his blood and his lower body grew heavy and hard. ‘But given the fact you’re up and dressed I’m assuming you don’t feel the same.’

  Jonas enjoyed the fiery colour slashing her cheeks. It reminded him of her full body blush when he made love to her.

  ‘I’m not talking about that.’

  ‘No?’ He jerked his brain back into gear. ‘What else is there?’

  Her eyes widened and he felt a moment’s regret. But he refused to be railroaded into discussing feelings, if that was what she meant.

  ‘I see.’ Ravenna’s jaw tightened and she crossed her arms. Did she realise how that plumped up her breasts? ‘So as far as you’re concerned we’ll go on as before, except for bouts of hot sex when the fancy takes you.’

  ‘It’s an improvement on what went before.’

  She didn’t respond to his smile.

  He wondered how long it would take to seduce her into breathless compliance. His body stirred. He’d always enjoyed a challenge and despite her frosty attitude Ravenna would welcome him. Look at the way her nipples budded and her pulse throbbed in her throat.

  ‘Let me get this straight.’ She unfolded her arms and stepped into his space, her eyes glinting gold sparks. ‘After what we shared you think nothing has changed, except you get rights to my body whenever you want?’ She shook her head. ‘You’re in the wrong century, Jonas. The droit du seigneur vanished ages ago.’

  He stif
fened. ‘No one forced you, Ravenna.’ Her sceptically raised brows grazed his pride, for he hadn’t been gentle that first time. But nor had she been forced. Ravenna had made a choice. She could have refused. ‘You wanted me.’

  ‘I did,’ she finally admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean you can expect me to slave away here under your Draconian conditions and be your sex toy as well. You can’t have it both ways. I deserve better.’

  Jonas surveyed her defiant face, her pouting lips, fuller from his kisses, her reddened cheek where his stubble had marked her. Anger flashed in her eyes and something like disappointment.

  His gaze dropped to the seductive flame-coloured dress designed to bring a man to his knees.

  His belly curdled as finally, and far too late, realisation struck. Jonas almost staggered under the impact.

  How had he been so blind? Disappointment carved a hollow through his vitals. Disappointment and fury at his naivety. Him, naïve! You’d think with his history he would have expected this. Yet he felt sick with the shock of it.

  Just like her mother, Ravenna aimed to sell her body for a rich man’s favours. She saw him as an easy target and wanted to buy her way out of debt. She thought sharing her body wiped out her crime.

  That put what they’d done together in a new light.

  Anger and resentment swamped Jonas—that he should have responded, wanted so much, when all the time it had been a tawdry transaction by a conniving woman.

  * * *

  Ravenna watched storm clouds gather in Jonas’ eyes. That leaden stare sent a chill scudding down her spine. It was as if they were back to the animosity of Paris.

  Stoically she forced down rising bile. Had she deluded herself? Had the man she’d begun to feel for been an illusion? Had his vulnerability and his easy charm been as her mother had warned—a ploy to make her lower her guard so he could wreak revenge on her family?

  She didn’t want to believe it.

  ‘What did you have in mind, Ravenna?’ His voice was a low purr, but instead of soothing it made her hackles rise. He sounded like a hungry lion inviting her to dine.

  She lifted her chin. ‘I was hoping to talk. Get to know each other better.’ The words sounded lame in the face of his cool regard but she plunged on. ‘I thought we might come to a better arrangement too about the work to be done here.’

  ‘Really?’ One saturnine eyebrow rose in lofty surprise.

  ‘Yes, really.’ His condescension sliced through her caution. ‘If you want this place put in order I’ll need help.’

  ‘You don’t think you should dirty your delicate hands now you’ve slept with the boss?’

  That sarcastic tone scraped her skin raw. She felt sullied, pressing a hand to her stomach as nausea rose. Familiar exhaustion struck, dragging at her limbs, making her panic she wouldn’t be able to stand up to him physically.

  Not now. Not in front of him!

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed my hands aren’t delicate.’ They were firm and capable, bearing nicks from her apprenticeship in a commercial kitchen.

  Jonas shifted, looming over her by a head, making Ravenna feel every inch of the difference between them. From his chiselled, aristocratic features to his elegant handmade clothes and designer watch he was the epitome of wealth and authority. She, with her shorn hair and cheap, chain-store dress didn’t fit his world. She’d never been ashamed of being poor, but she’d always hated condescension.

  This was worse, far worse.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ he said, his voice low and lethal. ‘You think because we had sex I’ll forget your crime? Or are you setting your sights higher? Do you think I’ll keep you in luxury now I’ve had a taste of what you’re bartering?’

  Ravenna rocked back at the force of his contempt.

  ‘All I want,’ she ground out between her teeth, ‘is a little respect.’

  ‘Is that what you call it? And there was I, thinking you were simply whoring yourself like your mother.’

  Ravenna’s hands clenched as she fought the urge for violence.

  ‘You really are a self-satisfied bastard.’ He didn’t even flinch, whereas she felt as if she were crumbling.

  ‘And I’m sorry to say you’re every inch your mother’s daughter. I warned you, I don’t share my father’s weakness for the hired help.’ His smile killed something fragile inside. ‘But that doesn’t prevent me taking what’s on offer.’ His eyes stripped her bare and she shuddered.

  ‘There’s nothing on offer.’ Not any more. Not when he’d taken her caring and her concern, and, yes, her body, and reduced them to nothing with a few slashing words.

  ‘Let’s get one thing straight, Ravenna.’ He leaned closer, invading her space. ‘If you’re aiming for something permanent you’re barking up the wrong tree.’ His voice was rough, reminding her of the sharp emotion she’d seen in him when he talked of his family. Yet his eyes had the blank look of someone who’d shut himself off from feelings.

  She wished she could do the same.

  She wished her mother had been wrong and Jonas was even half the man she’d begun to believe him. Mamma had been right—Ravenna had confused sex with caring. Now she paid the price as pain sliced her.

  ‘Don’t worry. I get the picture. As far as your family is concerned the Ruggiero women are good enough to be mistresses but never wives.’ From some inner reserve of strength Ravenna summoned a shaky smile. ‘Frankly, a long-term relationship hadn’t occurred to me. I’d like to respect the man I live with. But thanks for the clarification.’

  Ignoring his glare, she turned away, careful to keep her balance on wobbly legs. When the door shut behind her it was with a snick of finality.

  CHAPTER NINE

  JONAS TOSSED THE design portfolio onto his desk and sat back, rubbing eyes gritty from lack of sleep. He couldn’t concentrate. He hadn’t been able to concentrate since that scene with Ravenna.

  Ruggiero women are good enough to be mistresses but never wives.

  The look on her face as she’d thrown what he was thinking straight back at him! Defiance, hauteur and a pain that cut to the bone. It was that anguish, etched in her eyes and taut frame, that had dragged him from blind fury long enough to recognise he might have overreacted.

  Might have? He’d jumped down her throat without hearing her out.

  Because it was easier to dismiss Ravenna as a gold-digging opportunist than believe she could be something more.

  Yet it was the something more he’d responded to, not just her sexuality. It was the woman who’d comforted him, her enemy. The woman who, without being asked, catered cheerfully for those working around the Hall, even him, the man set on making her life hell. The woman who had rolled up her sleeves and taken on the ridiculously impossible task he’d set her, revealing a grit and determination he’d not thought possible. The woman who’d fought him tooth and nail but never shied from the consequences of her actions in thieving from him.

  He shook his head. Something didn’t add up, but he was too befuddled to work it out.

  Jonas looked at his half-empty mug and the scatter of crumbs on the plate she’d left on his desk and felt remorse.

  Good enough to be mistresses. The pain in her words made him feel two inches tall.

  No woman deserved to think that. Especially the woman who’d shared herself so unstintingly while he’d behaved with the finesse of a Neanderthal.

  In Paris he’d thought her a consummate liar, a woman totally changed from the earnest, engaging teenager he’d met. But that scene in his bedroom proved him wrong. Ravenna couldn’t hide her shame and anguish as she faced him down.

  He felt like scum.

  As if he’d taken advantage of her.

  For the first time he wondered how Ravenna had reacted to her mother’s affair.

  The teen
age Ravenna had seemed heartbreakingly alone in a world that judged merit on status and money. She’d suffered at the hands of bullies who despised her lack of wealth. Yet she hadn’t envied their money, just hated their shallowness.

  How had she felt when her mother took up with Piers, revelling like a self-satisfied potentate in the furore over his gorgeous mistress? Had Ravenna enjoyed the ride?

  Or, the thought struck hard, had she cringed at the gossip about her mother leeching Piers for cash?

  Ravenna had developed that shell of pride for a reason.

  Once the thought lodged he couldn’t shake it. Especially as he recalled the wretchedness she’d tried to hide when he’d accused her of sleeping her way out of trouble.

  Guilt smote him. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps not. But the memory of that haunted look discomfited him.

  Jonas shoved back the chair and strode across the room.

  He halted when he saw Ravenna talking with his garden designer, Adam Renshaw. The man’s auburn head was bent towards hers and fire seared Jonas as if he’d been skewered on a spit. He couldn’t breathe.

  It took a moment to identify the unfamiliar feeling as jealousy.

  His jaw tightened. He wanted to stomp out and haul Ravenna away.

  As if he had a right to her.

  As if she wouldn’t simply ignore him after what had passed between them.

  Jaw gritted, Jonas admitted that no matter what he wanted, no matter what Ravenna wanted, this wasn’t over. They had unfinished business.

  His mouth twisted mirthlessly as he registered something like relief at the knowledge.

  The women in his life had always been expendable. Even the Honourable Helena Worthington, the blonde beauty with impeccable bloodlines and a sweet disposition whom he’d half decided on as a future bride. She hadn’t been important enough to stop him taking Ravenna to bed.

  Yet with Ravenna, for the first time in his life a woman seemed infuriatingly necessary.

  He had to discover why.

  Then find a way to free himself.

  Jonas swung away, almost knocking over the easel of samples his interior designer had set up. His gaze slid over dark paint and patterned fabrics. He’d wanted traditional but this was... He shook his head. Too predictable?