by Lynne Graham
“I’ll hate you for this until the day I die!” she hissed. “You’re barbaric!”
“You made me that way.” His powerful body was blocking out the light, shadowing her hectically flushed face. “Why shouldn’t you taste the fruits of your own endeavours?” he demanded with seething bitterness. “But I will give you pleasure, even if it is only an empty pleasure. It ought to satisfy you. I wonder how many other men there have been to give you that same pleasure…”
“None; you turned me off men for life!”
His sensual mouth twisted. “I cannot believe that.”
“I don’t care what you believe, you savage!” she snapped back, outraged beyond all bearing by his insults.
The force of his mouth drove her head back against the pillows. The power of his hunger ravaged her. She lay completely still, a peculiar weakness overwhelming her. He would not use his superior strength against her. She was in no danger of a forced possession. Yet, even knowing that a struggle would drive him from her in aversion, she did not move a muscle. And even in the instant of questioning the inconsistency of her behaviour, a shaft of arrowing excitement seized her and drove her mind blank, as his hand moved expertly against her breast, brushing aside the ripped cotton, curving to the unbearably sensitive mound beneath. He muttered something thick and impossibly sexy in Italian, and she shuddered against the tautened length of his body.
I mustn’t, I mustn’t, I mustn’t was rhyming in her subconscious, in a litany already becoming meaningless. His fingertips found the engorged bud of her nipple and he lowered his mouth there, employing his tongue and the edge of his teeth in a grazing, tormenting caress, while his other hand prepared the neglected twin for a similar onslaught. Her defence system flew down like a domino run. Her back arched. The blood was pounding in insane excitement through her veins, and the pleasure was breathtakingly all-encompassing. It had never been so intense or so powerful for her. Her fluttering fingers tangled with the blackness of his thick hair, and she was lost beyond reclaim in a physical world of sensation. A pervasive heat was building up agonisingly inside her. Her thighs parted at the brush of his fingertips.
“You want me…badly,” Alex muttered roughly, his eyes brilliant with triumph. “Very badly.”
She could not have denied him. Need was a burning, remorseless compulsion within her traitorous body, a dam-burst of hunger ignited by his first touch. As he explored her intimately, he captured her swollen lips again in an urgent admission of impatience. His weight came down on her as he slid between her legs and he took her in a sudden, passionate storm. There was a moment of unforewarned discomfort, followed by the torment of a passion rising close to assuagement. He thrust into her powerfully, conquering her brief spasm of withdrawal, and suddenly she was clinging to him in the grip of an ecstasy which was intolerable. It finally pushed her over the edge, and Alex jerked against her with a surging groan of satisfaction, driving his body violently into the pliancy of hers.
As the clouds of passion receded, Kerry was devastated by what she had willingly surrendered. She had never lost control with such utter completeness. Nor had Alex ever made love to her in a combination of savage passion and volcanic impatience. Desolation and shame over her own abandonment swept her in the aftermath of the empty pleasure he had promised. To have given herself unstintingly to a male who reviled her was surely the lowest level a woman could sink to. Tears clogged her lashes.
“You still belong to me,” Alex murmured unfeelingly.
“You swine…I hope you’re satisfied!” she said shakily, wrenching free of his relaxed body.
The light went out at the touch of his hand. “I haven’t begun to be satisfied, cara,” he contradicted silkily. He ran a taunting hand down over the naked curve of her spine. “That was for necessity…an exorcism, if you like. This time it will be for enjoyment.”
“Don’t make me hate you.” Her whisper was choked.
“Hatred can be so refreshing,” Alex fielded lazily, and reached for her again. “And you have an endless capacity for enjoyment. Why not accept the inevitable? I only ever play to win, and you’re in the loser’s corner. We know the worst of each other. At least there won’t be any unpleasant surprises in the future.”
His lips tasted hers. She was too weak and too shaken to resist. A tiny part of her seemed to think she deserved this treatment, just as Alex believed she had deserved it. She squeezed her eyes shut in the darkness. Within seconds delight and more delight, and the curious reflection that this was, after all, Alex, had intermingled, and she gave herself up to the ecstasy again.
CHAPTER FIVE
“SATURDAY.” Alex delivered the wedding date with careless cool. “A car will pick you up from your parents’ home at ten. I’ll contact them today and invite them to join us.”
Kerry mutely watched him embark on his third cup of coffee. Alex had eaten a very hearty breakfast. But he didn’t have the demeanour of a condemned man. He was in an extremely good mood, dark golden eyes resting on her at least once every minute with veiled satisfaction. She was in torment. She didn’t care that he had no plans to repeat last night before the wedding. It was too late to find comfort in the news.
Alex had achieved exactly what he wanted to achieve. He had subdued her. Her response had made a nonsense of claims of hatred and undying hostility. She felt as if she had been plundered by a Viking attack force. He had taken her in lust and revenge, and he had destroyed indefinably precious memories of the past. His act of exorcism had cost her too dearly.
“One of my accountants will sort out your business investment.”
“No, they won’t!” she picked up hurriedly. “Steven couldn’t afford to buy me out.”
Alex moved a nebulously expressive hand. “His problem,” he said succinctly. “Throughout your association, he took gross advantage of you.”
“What are you talking about? How would you know?”
“I have maintained an interest in your affairs, and that has not been to your disadvantage,” he emphasised unsmilingly.
She tilted her chin, her eyes blank. “Meaning?”
“You really want to know?” Alex gave a shrug of almost rueful acceptance. “You could well have been out of business by now, were it not for certain measures I took. I informed your bank manager in confidence that I would guarantee any debts or loans.”
Horrified, she stared at him. “How could you?” she whispered.
He sighed. “You haven’t suffered by his understanding when you have been in difficulties.”
“That’s not the point. How dare you go behind my back?” she flared, her pride stung beyond measure. She had worked so hard at independence, and all the time Alex had been in the background, propping her up.
“Evans was also under my instructions.” At her second arrested gasp, colour darkened his features. “I tell you this because deception is abhorrent to me, but you gave me little choice when you refused to let me keep you.”
She was choking on a sensation of drowning now. Willard, too…she should have guessed the dealer was too good to be true. Always willing to buy, never failing to turn up, month after month. A paid employee of Alex’s sent in to keep Antiques Fayre afloat. “How could you?” she said again helplessly.
His eyes were wry. “You are handicapped by your partner’s deficiencies, not your own. You worked for him as if you were an employee.”
“That isn’t true. I ran the business!”
“Then why does he appear to benefit much more richly than you from the profits?” enquired Alex drily. “I thought you were having an affair with him. I could see no other reason for such generosity upon your part.”
She hated him for speaking cold, hard facts. She had never got over the feeling that Antiques Fayre was really Steven’s. He had started the business up. She had been further restricted by his genuinely pleasant nature. Irresponsible and extravagant Steven might be, but should she ever be in trouble, she could find no better friend. Even so, she should have
overcome her embarrassment a long time ago and insisted that Steven draw a wage and no more from the showroom.
“Kerry, had you not been hampered by your partner, I believe your business would have thrived. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
“I’m not blaming myself!” It was the last straw to have Alex, from the pinnacle of his millions, soothing her wounded pride. “I’m blaming you for interfering in my life and treating me like a helpless child! If I had ever needed help I would have written to your lawyers.”
“From your ditch?” Alex enquired sardonically. “We both know you would have sooner elected to starve than accept assistance from me. It was simplest to ensure that you managed with a little discreet help.”
“Thank you for nothing!” She stalked out of the room.
He had taken everything now. Furthermore, it was obvious that Alex had kept her under close surveillance since their divorce. He had been spying on her. No wonder he had suspected Steven was her lover. There had been no other evidence of a man in her life. Last night he had learnt differently. He had it all now, right down to the ego-boosting discovery that she had spent four celibate years doing penance for her sins.
“Don’t walk away from me, cara.” His hand pulled her firmly round. “I did nothing wrong. I was responsible for you and Nicky. Had I been less generous, I could have decreed that you lived a very different life. I could have forced you to be dependent by demanding that you give my son a more suitable backdrop. I let you go your own way while Nicky was still a baby, but you have gone that road to its end now.”
“Don’t you dare come that prophet-of-doom stuff on me again!” she warned wrathfully. “I’m not one of the family yes-women you’re used to. I’ve got brains and I’ve got just as much need for a life outside the home as you have! Do you hear me, Alex?”
“I should imagine the whole block can hear you,” he said drily.
“Well, you were the one who taught me that a higher octave is the only way that you stop and listen! I nearly died of boredom the last time we were married…”
“Not in the bedroom…”
“You see?” she interrupted in a burst of anger. “You wouldn’t talk to a man like that. You wouldn’t humiliate a man by telling him that you had been bolstering up his business, either!”
He caught her fingers tightly. “I told you because I wanted no more secrets between us, not because I wanted to belittle your achievements. Can’t you be grateful for the feeling behind the interference?”
“I’ve got nothing to be grateful for after last night. You can stamp the account paid in full,” she retorted bitterly.
“You wanted me.”
“Not in cold blood,” she muttered in deep chagrin. “Any respect I had for you died last night. Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t force me. You just pushed me to the edge and said jump. There’s very little difference.”
She spun away into the bedroom. He had not been with her when she awoke. Strangely enough, that circumstance had added to her sense of having been demeaned beyond the bounds of acceptance. She was in tumultuous conflict with herself. Yes, she had wanted him, madly, desperately. In the light of the day, the heated passage of the night only made her cringe. She had once expressed love sharing Alex’s bed. What had she been doing last night? Submitting with pleasure? Reliving the past? Seeking redemption for her sins? Whatever she had believed she was doing, she had humiliated herself.
All through breakfast she had hardly been able to take her eyes off him. Habit was there, a terrible dangerous familiarity was there. But Alex was not the same man he had been four years ago. At one stage she could actually remember pretending to herself that he still cared about her. How pathetic could you get? While she had been pitifully deluding herself, Alex had been making her beg for his final possession. Alex had brought his bitterness into the bedroom, and her own wantonness had sunk her beneath reproach.
In less than four crazy days Alex had turned her inside out. She didn’t know herself any more. Or perhaps she was afraid to probe too deep. Perhaps she preferred to believe that physical desire alone had betrayed her. Behind that lurked a bigger apprehension. She stared strickenly at her overbright eyes in the mirror. Suppose some of that old love still lingered…? Oh, lord, she mustn’t even think this way. Alex would never love her again. To love him would be to sign her own death warrant, the final seal on his revenge.
A knock sounded on the door. She knew it was Alex. The knock was a positive joke after the fashion in which he had entered this same room last night. He was framed by the doorway, dark and devilishly controlled. “We can’t continue to fight like this. It won’t benefit our son to see us clawing at each other.”
“Did you think of that last night?”
The golden eyes glinted. “Am I to hear of that for ever? We are not children. We were married once. In a few days’ time we will be married again.”
“You took advantage.”
“I wanted you and I had the right,” Alex stated with unequivocal arrogance.
She bent her head. “You didn’t. We’re divorced.”
“I have never felt divorced, I have never felt truly free!” Alex sizzled back in a condemnation that suggested it was her fault. “I did not think of us as divorced from the moment I saw you again.”
It made little difference to Kerry’s feelings. As her hands laced tightly together, another fear occurred to her, and she went pale and then pink. She couldn’t bear it if he had made her pregnant. It was no melodramatic fear. Her previous pregnancy she recalled as a ghastly ordeal. Once she had lost Alex she had had no pleasure from her condition. She had been sick almost continuously, and more depressed than any woman ought to be. Bitterly, miserably, she threw him a glance. “If last night has any…repercussions, I’m not having it. I’m telling you that now. I will never go through what I went through again…not for you…not for anybody,” she swore.
Stark pallor slowly stretched beneath his golden skin. His facial muscles tautened. She assumed that he had not even thought along such mundane lines. A male bent on slaking his lust did not think of consequences.
“Then we must hope that there will be no repercussions,” he replied harshly. “I don’t expect you to undergo something you found so objectionable a second time. Now, the lawyer will be arriving soon with the contract I mentioned. When it is signed, the car will take you home.”
She had the weirdest suspicion that she had cut Alex to the bone. Dazedly, she squashed the idea. He had his son. He didn’t need any more children. Nor could he want another tie to her when he had already made it clear that he did not expect them to remain together indefinitely.
The lawyer was elderly. He opened his mouth to explain the thick document to her. Alex cut him off after one word. “Just slash an X where we have to sign,” he instructed drily. “I have naturally explained the meaning of the contract to my wife.”
“But as an interested party…” The older man flushed, probably thinking on the danger of offending so wealthy a client. He dutifully penned in the X. They signed. Alex then beamed with positive benevolence upon him. Kerry presumed that the contract tied her up in knots. Why else would Alex smile?
Umberto packed her new clothes. She put on a fine turquoise wool suit with a high-necked white silk blouse. Once more she was Kerry Veranchetti. Kerry Taylor had vanished. If Alex had chosen the clothes, he had fantastic taste. Her own had not been half so elegant in the past. She had pursued fashion with teenage extremity. Her avant-garde appearance must have embarrassed him at least once, but a word of criticism had never passed his lips. With hindsight, she marvelled at his restraint.
* * *
VICKIE SWUNG OPEN her door and simply stared. Her eyes roamed in astonishment over the designer suit. “What was that I said about nothing untoward happening between last night and today?” she gibed with a contemptuously curled lip. “Funny, I did think you had more pride. Alex develops some crazy notion to marry you again, and already you’re trotting about
in fancy feathers. Anybody would think you can’t wait to get back there!”
Kerry reddened as she followed her tall sister into the lounge. “I did try to phone you before I came to London.”
“What happened?”
Kerry chewed her lower lip. When it came to the point, she couldn’t tell Vickie everything. Somehow she felt that that would be stabbing Alex in the back. He had employed blackmail because he was desperate to gain custody of his son. And last night? She was equally to blame. She hadn’t screamed the place down, had she? She hadn’t thrown a chair through his triple glazing and threatened to embrace death before dishonour either, had she? No, far from it. Only afterwards had she had the decency to regret her behaviour.
“Why the beetroot-red blush?” Vickie straightened, slinging her lighter down and blowing a faint smoke-ring as she exhaled. “Did he use sex? My God, he must have been desperate to get you any way he could!”
The high-pitched, venomous tone grated on Kerry’s nerves. “It was I who broke the marriage up,” she said defensively.
“And you’re going back out of guilt? Alex wants Nicky,” Vickie guessed shrewdly. “You don’t still love him, surely?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“He’s about as lovable as a sabre-toothed tiger, and about as dated.” Her laugh was harsh, her blue eyes intent on Kerry’s perplexed face. “Well, I can release you from the weight of your conscience. Would you like a drink?”
“Too early for me.” She was uncomfortable with the strangeness of her sister’s mood. In her opinion Vickie had already had a couple of drinks.
Vickie jerked a slim shoulder. “You might change your mind in a minute or two. The…the night of the party…or maybe I ought to begin before that.” Her strained gaze was oddly pleading. “I hope that you remember that I didn’t have to tell you this.”
“Tell me what?”
Vickie took a deep breath. “When we were younger, I used to resent you…”