Ice In His Veins

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Ice In His Veins Page 7

by Carole Mortimer

Eden suddenly became aware of where she was, of the way her hands were clinging about his throat, and tried to pull away. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I—’

  ‘Stay where you are,’ he ordered gruffly.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Don’t move, Eden!’ His command wouldn’t be denied. ‘You aren’t that innocent that you don’t know when it’s wisest to say and do nothing.’

  No, she wasn’t that innocent. Something was happening between them, something tangibly physical, Jason’s sudden awareness of her as easily discernible as her own heightened emotions. That was the trouble, of course, emotions were running high at the moment, an ideal situation for things to get out of control. Her own control had wavered slightly the moment Jason had taken her in his arms.

  Finally he put her away from him, his mouth a grim angry line. ‘Come with me,’ he instructed.

  She hung back, her trepidation unhidden in her clear golden eyes. ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Don’t think you should?’ his voice taunted, those steely eyes cruelly appraising. ‘I’m not going to take you to my bed or anything remotely like that,’ he mocked. I’m not going to pretend that the idea didn’t cross my mind just now, but I believe we agreed that would only happen through an act of desperation on my part, and I don’t happen to be that desperate just yet.’

  Eden had paled more and more as each cruel word left that well-shaped mouth, until now she was a sickly grey colour. She was all the more bewildered and hurt because in the last few minutes she had become aware of Jason Earle in a way she had been aware of no other man, not even Tim. Every muscle and sinew of this man, every harsh feature, suddenly attracted her as nothing and no one else ever had.

  But she didn’t like him, didn’t like his arrogance, the easy way he accepted the adoration of women like Claire and Isobel. Then why this sudden attraction? She had heard of a purely physical response to someone, but she had never believed she would fall a victim of it.

  She gave Jason a sharp look. Did he knew of her sudden change of emotion towards him? Oh God, she hoped not. Anyway, it wouldn’t last, physical infatuation never did—or so she had been told!

  ‘Eden!’

  The sharpness of his tone brought her momentarily to her senses. ‘Sorry?’

  He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Come to my study.’

  She trailed after him when it appeared that was what he expected her to do. Jason poured her some brandy and handed it to her. ‘This seems to be becoming a habit,’ she said ruefully, bowing her head, her confusion still evident in her shadowed eyes, a confusion she didn’t want Jason to see.

  ‘What does?’ he queried absently, seated behind the huge mahogany desk now, suddenly the remote figure of their first meeting.

  ‘You plying me with brandy.’ She attempted a light laugh, aware by the narrowing of his grey eyes that she hadn’t succeeded in convincing him of her composure.

  ‘I’m not “plying” you with anything,’ he stated distantly. ‘On the two occasions I’ve offered you brandy you seem to have been suffering from shock.’

  ‘Good heavens, how you do dramatise! Being in a man’s arms isn’t exactly a new experience for me,’ she scorned. ‘Hardly likely to cause shock—even if they were the arms of the famous Jason Earle.’

  ‘That wasn’t the shock I meant,’ he said coldly, icy disdain in every feature of that harsh face. ‘I was referring to the shock of your grandfather’s death.’

  ‘Oh,’ she blushed scarlet. ‘Oh yes. I—I’d forgotten for the moment,’ she admitted almost guiltily.

  Jason shrugged. ‘That isn’t surprising, you didn’t even know David.’

  ‘But I should feel something!’

  ‘Don’t torture yourself with guilt over feelings that simply can’t exist,’ he dismissed.

  ‘But he was my grandfather.’ Tears shimmered in golden eyes for her lack of emotion.

  ‘He was that all right,’ Jason mused. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t realise it the first time I saw you, maybe because I was looking at the body and not the eyes. His eyes were that colour too.’

  Eden blushed at his admission of looking at her body. ‘Th—they were?’ It seemed strange to have inherited the colouring of a man who had only ever been a stranger to her, a man her mother had brought her up to hate and despise.

  He nodded, his penetrating gaze still fixed on her pale face. ‘In David they were more of a tawny colour, not gold, but they’re definitely his eyes.’

  Eyes that all life had faded from. Eden could feel the sadness for the passing of life even if she couldn’t feel the sadness for the loss of a grandfather. ‘What was he like?’ she queried softly.

  ‘Do you think that’s a fair question to ask me? I can only see him from a man’s point of view, as a friend and business colleague.’

  ‘From whatever point of view you see him it will still be a hundred per cent better than the one I have,’ she snapped.

  ‘Okay,’ he sighed. ‘Point taken. Hasn’t your mother talked about him to you?’

  Only to criticise him! But how could she explain to this cynical man that her mother had been so wrapped up in her bitterness that it had coloured every statement she had ever made about David Morton, that the bitterness had festered and grown, until only the possibility of his death had shown her mother the futility of her emotions. This man couldn’t even begin to understand.

  ‘My mother hadn’t seen him for eighteen years, he must have changed drastically in that time,’ she answered evasively.

  ‘I would presume so,’ Jason mocked.

  ‘Well?’

  He shrugged, leaning back thoughtfully. ‘He was a man who knew what he wanted at all times, went all out to get it. Until his illness he was still an astute business man, completely ruthless, very successful at what he did.’

  ‘That sounds like a description of you,’ she said dryly.

  ‘Maybe,’ he acknowledged harshly.

  ‘Although you’ve been kind to me too,’ she added contritely.

  ‘Kinder than you ever thought I could be,’ he mocked. ‘But I exacted payment, didn’t I?’

  Her eyes widened apprehensively. After all, she was completely at his mercy alone here with him at his house. Had she been too trusting? The predatory look in his eyes seemed to indicate as much.

  Suddenly he laughed, a cruel taunting laugh that was meant to wound—and did. ‘Don’t worry, Eden, I’m just teasing you. You’re way out of your league with me, you would be better to stick to meek little lapdogs like Tim Channing.’

  ‘Tim isn’t a lapdog!’ Some of her defiant anger came to the fore to save her from utter humiliation. This man had known of her temporary weakness towards him, knew of it and was warning her that she wouldn’t get off so lightly if the experience were ever repeated. ‘He’s worth ten of you,’ she added for good measure.

  ‘Then why aren’t you marrying him?’

  ‘I just may do that!’ She stood up to glare at him, feeling at a disadvantage seated across the formality of the desk. ‘When I get back to the States I just might marry him.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ he pursed his lips. ‘When you get back.’

  Eden frowned, not liking the way he had said that at all. ‘What do you mean, when I get back?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘You said it first,’ he reminded her calmly.

  ‘Not the way you did. You seemed to imply that it would be some time before I went home.’

  ‘Did I? Purely unintentionally I can assure you.’

  ‘Can you?’ she persisted. ‘It sounded that way to me.’

  ‘I think we can agree that you aren’t a very good judge of anything at the moment,’ Jason said insultingly. ‘But perhaps it would be better to ask Tim to visit you over here, if you have to see him. We’ll have things to sort out over here the next few weeks.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘Your inheritance, for one thing.’

  She grimaced. ‘Not now, Jason. It’s in rather bad taste.�
��

  ‘You brought it up. But you may as well know now that you won’t be able to go anywhere until it’s all been settled.’

  ‘I don’t want anything. My grandfather owed me nothing.’

  ‘I don’t think he considered he owed you anything either,’ Jason said dryly. ‘But nevertheless, it’s yours. You can’t just walk away from that.’

  ‘I can. I—’

  ‘Don’t be such a selfish little bitch,’ he snapped. ‘You ignored your father and grandfather for—’

  ‘I ignored them?’ she cut in indignantly. ‘I did no such thing! They—’

  ‘Oh yes, you did. It worked both ways, Eden. Okay, so they rejected your mother, but that rejection didn’t include you. You had ample opportunity to visit David, and he can only have been hurt by your tardiness. I think the least you can do is give David a little of your time now that he’s dead.’

  ‘You don’t pull your punches, do you?’ she choked.

  ‘Did you expect me to?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I’m glad you weren’t disappointed.’

  ‘Have you—have you seen Isobel?’ she asked.

  His mouth tightened into a grim line. ‘Yes, I’ve seen her.’

  ‘She hasn’t calmed down,’ Eden said knowingly.

  ‘Oh, she’s calm enough—too calm. When she breaks I just hope you aren’t in the firing line.’

  ‘Another reason for me to leave. She can’t want me here—her husband’s child by his first marriage!’

  ‘She doesn’t have a say in it. And you aren’t going anywhere,’ he stood up, his powerful body dominating—and attracting. Oh God, this couldn’t be happening to her. ‘Not until I say you can.’

  ‘Until you…?’ Eden saw red, angry spots of colour staining her cheeks. ‘Just who the hell do you think you are? Until you say!’ she repeated disbelievingly. ‘You might have women like Isobel Morton and Claire Channing hanging on your every word, but I don’t respond to arrogance!’

  ‘No,’ his humourless smile taunted her. ‘I think we’ve established what you respond to.’

  ‘Why, you—’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he warned calmly as she went to hit him. ‘I don’t respond well to violence. I would retaliate in a way I would find infinitely satisfying, but you might find less pleasant.’

  Eden swallowed hard, her raised hand slowly falling back to her side. ‘You mean….’

  ‘No, I do not mean!’ he bit out coldly. ‘I would put you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve. Then I just might kiss you,’ he smiled mockingly.

  ‘Oh, I see.’ She scorned to hide her fear. If he should kiss her…! ‘That’s the sort of thing that turns you on, is it?’

  She knew she had gone too far by the angry glitter in his grey eyes and the sudden tightening of his mouth. ‘No,’ he said grimly, ‘that isn’t what turns me on.’ He pulled her roughly into his arms. ‘This is what turns me on,’ he murmured before his mouth descended on hers.

  All her struggles were to no avail as he punished her mouth with slow ruthfulness, grinding her lips against her teeth as she stubbornly refused to open her mouth. She felt the taste of blood in her mouth at his savagery, finding no pleasure in his brutality, only humiliation and pain. She had invited this onslaught, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

  And then the pressure of his mouth on hers changed, became more insistantly persuasive, and it was done so subtly that Eden didn’t even realise she had begun to respond. That Jason was an expert lover she was in no doubt, seeming to draw the very soul from her body with the deep intimacy of his kiss, his hands slowly caressing her body from breast to thigh, holding her hips firmly against his thighs and making her wholly aware of his renewed arousal.

  At last he released her, stepping back to survey her flushed cheeks and fever-bright eyes with undisguised satisfaction. ‘Yes,’ he murmured softly, ‘that’s what turns me on.’

  Eden didn’t need to be told that, his desire had been in every tensed muscle of his body, his mouth telling her what he really wanted to do—and that certainly hadn’t been just to kiss her!

  She put up a hand to her tousled hair, aware that it had been Jason’s hands in her hair holding her immovable for his kiss that had caused the disorder. ‘You’re disgusting!’ she snapped defensively. ‘How dare you kiss me like that when you’re going to marry another woman?’

  He raised dark eyebrows. ‘I am?’

  ‘You know you are. Isobel Morton!’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that you owed any loyalty to Isobel.’

  ‘After what she did to my mother, I don’t. But—’

  ‘Then leave the feelings of guilt to me—if I feel them necessary.’

  ‘Which you don’t!’

  ‘As I have no intention of marrying Isobel, no.’

  ‘But you—’

  ‘Shouldn’t you call your mother?’ he cut in tersely. ‘You said she would want to know.’

  ‘Oh God, yes. I’d forgotten.’ In the force of his lovemaking she had forgotten everything!

  The narrowing of his eyes seemed to tell her he knew that. ‘Would you like me to make the call for you?’

  ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘This is something I have to do for myself.’

  Jason shrugged. ‘If you insist….’

  ‘I do,’ Eden said firmly. ‘Can I make the call from here?’

  ‘Or the lounge, or your bedroom. Take you pick,’ he dismissed.

  ‘I didn’t mean that, I meant can I make the call from your house?’

  His gaze swept over her with slow deliberation, mockery in every harsh feature. ‘Worried about what I might ask in payment for using the telephone?’ he taunted, a smile on his lips.

  ‘No!’ Why did this man have the power to reduce her to the level of a gauche schoolgirl? He wasn’t the first sophisticated, self-assured, utterly arrogant man she had ever met, and yet…. She shouldn’t be attracted to him, should feel only dislike for him. But all she did feel was a longing to be back in his arms.

  But she wouldn’t think of that now, couldn’t think of it now. If she was to continue to live in this house for the next few days at least then the sudden awareness that had sprung up between them would have to be dampened down. Not that Jason seemed to care whether it was or not! He wasn’t above enjoying a little flirtation with her. But she had the feeling that on her side there would be nothing light about it.

  She gave him a challenging look. ‘Can I make the call from here or not?’ she demanded.

  ‘Be my guest,’ he drawled. ‘Or whatever else you want to be,’ he added huskily. ‘I’m open to offers.’

  ‘If I have to pay for my room and board in that way I’d rather go to a hotel!’ she lied.

  He was still smiling that infuriating smile. ‘You don’t have to do anything. I was just wondering whether you’d care to share your room.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she told him stiffly.

  ‘Not used to waking up and finding the man still in bed with you in the morning?’ he taunted.

  ‘That’s right!’ Eden snapped angrily. ‘I prefer to sleep alone.’

  ‘Now that’s a pity, because I like waking up and finding someone in bed with me.’

  ‘I’m sure that happens all too often!’

  ‘Too true,’ he smiled. ‘That way you can repeat the experience of the night before.’

  ‘Really?’ She adopted a blasé attitude, sure that this man had slept with more women than he cared to remember—and she didn’t like it one bit. ‘I’ve always found it’s never a repeat, each time is a new experience.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘In that case perhaps you should accept Tim’s offer of marriage. You sound as if you have the ideal physical relationship.’

  ‘I don’t think I mentioned Tim’s name. I find each time a new experience because I always make sure it’s a different man,’ she added in a bored voice.

  ‘I can’t believe that,’ he scoffed. ‘You don’t ap
pear to be that type of—’

  ‘What type, Mr Earle?’ she asked, dangerously soft, his attitude egging her on to further outrageous lies. ‘Is it only the man’s prerogative to experiment? I want to experience as much as I can in my life before I finally settle down with one man.’

  ‘But you don’t want one of these experiences to be with me?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Not even as a means of paying Isobel back for marrying your father?’

  ‘Do what she did to my mother, you mean, take her man away from her?’

  Jason nodded. ‘That’s the idea.’

  ‘There are plenty of available men without poaching on another woman’s property. I wouldn’t reduce myself to her level.’

  ‘I already told you I belong to no woman!’ His voice had hardened into anger.

  ‘Perhaps that’s your trouble, Mr Earle. You can’t accept that at your age your thoughts should be turning towards a settled home and family, not trying to get every female you meet into bed with you.’ She looked at him with wide innocent eyes, pretending not to notice how her barbs angered him. ‘After all, you are old enough to be my father.’

  ‘And you’re young enough to have that spanking I mentioned earlier!’ He took a threatening step towards her.

  ‘Oh no, Mr Earle,’ she put her hand on his chest, giving a deliberately provocative laugh. ‘I remember what you said would follow the spanking, and I’d rather not repeat that. You don’t turn me on.’

  ‘Why, you little—’

  ‘Can’t you take rejection gracefully?’ she asked regretfully. ‘I do so hate it when a man makes a scene about these things.’

  ‘One of these days….’ he warned viciously. ‘One day you might be called upon to prove your claim to experience.’

  ‘Only if you get desperate,’ she reminded him sweetly. ‘You seem to be an experienced lover,’ she added musingly. ‘But then that doesn’t mean you’re any good at it,’ she finished tauntingly.

  His eyes had narrowed angrily. ‘I’m warning you, Eden!’

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded, ‘one of these days. Well, we’ll have to see about that. You never know, I might get that desperate. After all, I don’t know any men in London.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll soon rectify that,’ he said grimly.

 

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