'Thank you for being so understanding,' was all she said in answer, her voice low and defensive.
Max stopped walking abruptly, pulling her round to face him.
'Dear God, Jassy, is there no getting through to you?' he asked irritably. 'How long do you think you can bottle these things up inside yourself?'
His steel-strong fingers were digging into her fragile shoulders, bruising her, and jealous thoughts of the woman who had been in his car made her ungracious in reply.
'Why should you care?' she demanded defiantly.
Max sighed, his mouth twisting. 'Why indeed?' he asked flatly, raking her stubborn face with cool eyes.
Jassy stared into the harsh lines of his face and did not want him to be annoyed with her. What he said was true. She did need somebody to confide in, and with a shock of realisation she knew that she trusted this powerful American, without knowing why. He was so very different from any man she had ever met before.
'It's Morgan,' she blurted out suddenly. Max's fingers eased their pressure on her shoulders.
'Your father? I guessed as much.'
'He's not my father, I never knew my real father. Morgan is my stepfather,' she explained in an expressionless voice.
'And your mother?' Max probed gently.
Jassy swallowed. 'My mother died when I was twelve. She had a terminal illness,' she said huskily. Max drew breath slowly, shaking his dark head in disbelief.
'I'm sorry, Jassy,' he said quietly.
She managed a weak smile. 'Don't be sorry for me,' she returned steadily, not wanting his pity.
'Tell me about it.' Max's voice was gentle and persuasive.
They stood facing each other on the pale sand, only inches between them, not touching each other but looking into each other's faces openly and without deceit.
Jassy shrugged nervously, wondering where to start.
'My father was killed in an accident at his factory just before I was born. I never even saw him . . . but my mother had some photos of him. Morgan didn't want her to keep them, so she gave them to me. . . . I still hide them from him.' She paused, her eyes firmly on her bare toes, clenching in the powdery sand. 'Five years later my mother married Morgan. He swept her off her feet, I think, she was very lonely . . . and he can be very charming, and he pursues what he wants ruthlessly.
'I think they loved each other, especially at the beginning, although he never put her before the business——' Jassy broke off, aware of how bitter she
sounded. Morgan had never let his wife intrude on the most important part of his life. Business was business, he always said, as though that were a good excuse.
Jassy was sure that her mother had been under no illusions as to the first love of Morgan's life, but perhaps she had never expected to be cut out of his life so completely. Morgan had wanted a son to carry on the business, but when it had become clear that Jassy's mother could not bear him that son, he had turned away from her like a spiteful child, behaving with indifference towards her, trying to get back at her for what he considered the injury done to him, for her shortcomings.
Jassy was also aware that Morgan wished that she was a man, although, making the best of a bad job, he was determined that she should marry well. If he did not have a son of his own, then he was making sure that he handpicked a son-in-law and that was what Jassy could not take
She was aware that Morgan had some affection for her, but knew that it would not stop him making use of her. People did not exist to her stepfather, except in terms of what they could do for him. His obsession was business and Jassy saw the coldness in him—and the weakness.
The weakness displayed itself in his gambling. Morgan was so used to winning, to getting his own way that gambling was a fascinating challenge to him. He could lose thousands of pounds in one night and not turn a hair.
Jassy knew that at this very moment he would be in the hotel casino. She sighed. It did not really make any difference what Morgan was; the fact still remained that he was the nearest thing to a family that she had, and despite everything, she did love him.
'It's natural that you care for him,' Max said quietly, reading her mind, carefully watching the conflict of emotions chasing across her pointed face. 'But he's weak, Jassy, you must see that.'
Jassy nodded, knowing that Max was trying to help her.
'I do care for him, but I'm not blind to his faults,' she whispered ruefully.
'And Rene Moreau?' Max's catlike eyes were intent, his long body still, as though he had been waiting to ask this question for a long, long time.
Jassy ran her fingers through her hair, anxiety in her brown eyes. 'Morgan wants me to marry him.' Her voice broke as she admitted out loud what had been troubling her so.
'And you?' he persisted relentlessly, a flicker of unrecognisable emotion darkening his lean face.
'I don't want to marry Rene, and I know that I can't let Morgan use me the way he used my mother. That's why I couldn't sleep tonight—I know that the time is coming to face him, and I'm trying to build up my courage . . .' her voice trailed off weakly.
Max ran a gentle finger down her cheek, his touch making her heart beat faster, his body relaxed again.
'You'll find that courage, Jassy, I know you will. You'll have to fight, because Moreau wants you.' The last three words were bitten out almost savagely, and Jassy stared up at him, scanning his hard face curiously.
'No——' she denied, feeling panicky.
'Don't you underestimate him, he does want you,' Max repeated harshly. 'Any fool could see that just by watching him tonight.'
'I don't want to know!' Jassy cried, feeling almost sick. Max had just confirmed her worst fears about Rene, and although she believed him, she did not want to think about it. If Morgan and Rene had joined forces would she have any chance against them?
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you.' Max's smile was warm, taking her breath away. He touched her face again. 'Tell me about you.'
Jassy laughed, her fears sternly pushed to the back of her mind in her determination to make the most of her time spent with this fascinating man.
'There's not much to tell. After my mother married Morgan, I was sent away to boarding school. I left last year and I wanted to get a job, but Morgan prefers me to be with him, and he travels so much that I couldn't hold down a job for long enough. I've started to paint, though, and I really enjoy it—I'll show you some of my paintings if you like.'
'I'd like that,' Max nodded. Then, 'How old are you, Jassy?' he asked, his voice hard and strange.
'Nineteen. Why?'
'I'm thirty-six,' he answered harshly, his mouth twisting almost bitterly. Jassy frowned, wondering what to say. She had not asked him his age, although she would have estimated mid-thirties. She turned away and wandered down to the sea edge, the water cool on her feet.
'Are you married?' she asked guilelessly, over her shoulder, praying with all her heart that the answer was no.
Max regarded her with amused eyes. 'No,' he replied crisply, strolling towards her with swift animal grace.
Very relieved, Jassy looked at him, her mouth dry as his wide shoulders blocked out the moonlight. His green eyes were glittering as they rested on the vulnerable curve of her mouth. Gazing into his lean, handsome face, she knew what he was thinking, and she wanted his kiss.
'Kiss me,' she breathed softly, her parted lips an invitation, her heart beating so heavily that she was deafened as he reached for her, his strong hands closing on her shoulders and pulling her close to him. She stared into his molten eyes, mesmerised as he lowered his head very slowly, his mouth warm and hard as he kissed her forehead, his lips then trailing across her closed eyelids.
The hands on her shoulders had slipped beneath the light cotton material of her loose caftan and were exploring her soft bare skin, tracing the hollow beneath her collarbone, slowly. His mouth brushed her lips gently and Jassy began to tremble, lifting her hands to his shoulders to stop herself swaying against him, her fi
ngers clenching as she felt his powerful muscles tightening.
His mouth was still teasing hers with small gentle kisses, coaxing her lips apart, and as her mouth opened, she heard him groan as his mouth finally took complete possession. His arms came around her, moulding her to the hard length of his muscular body, and his kiss deepened with passion as he slowly and sensuously explored the inner softness of her mouth for the first time.
Jassy was dizzy with the sensations he was arousing in her. Her heart was still beating crazily and her eyes were tightly closed as her fingertips brushed his thick hair, her pale arms tightening around his neck.
At that moment Max reluctantly lifted his head, breaking the kiss. He looked down at her with eyes that burned.
'Have some mercy on me, Jassy,' he muttered, breathing deeply, as he raked his hand through the darkness of his hair. Jassy smiled at him, her mouth swollen and vulnerable from his kiss, the like of which she had never experienced before. It had shattered all her romantic, childish illusions, awakening in her a pulsing fire that left her entire body weak and aching. She had been kissed before, of course, but had felt nothing, breaking away as soon as possible. The touch of Max's mouth had shot through her body like pain, arousing every part of her, everyxnerve from head to toe.
He watched her bemusedly touching her fingers to her lips, his eyes unfathomable. Then he smiled very gently, taking her hand and slowly kissing the palm.
'Time to get back, I think,' he murmured regretfully. 'Your stepfather will kill me with his bare hands if he finds out you've been with me!'
Although he was only joking, Jassy was brought down to earth with a bump, as she wrinkled her nose in disbelief. She had the distinct feeling that Morgan would be no match for Max Bellmer— under any circumstances. And Max knew that.
CHAPTER THREE
THE phone was ringing, and Jassy shifted restlessly in her sleep, her eyes finally snapping open as she realised that the harsh, persistent sound was not a dream. She rolled sleepily out of bed and picked up the receiver.
'Mmm?' she murmured huskily, still too sleepy for her mind to form words, pushing back her tousled hair with a careless hand.
'Spend the day with me, Jassy.' Max Bellmer's deep, drawling voice sent a cold shiver down her warm, relaxed body and jerked her into an instant wide-awake awareness. The prospect of spending a whole day in his company was exciting, and she had no other plans—
'I don't know . . . Morgan. . . .' she began cautiously, but Max did not give her time to finish.
'I'll pick you up outside your hotel in an hour,' he asserted, laughter threading his voice, and hung up.
Jassy stared at the receiver for a second, unable to contain the excited smile that curved her lips. She remembered how she had lain in bed for hours, the night before, waiting for sleep to claim her, her body still aching, her mouth still tingling from the touch of those beautifully sensual lips.
She had dreamt of him too, although she could not remember any of the dreams clearly.
The suite was quiet; Morgan was obviously still sleeping, which was not surprising, as there had been no sign of him before she had fallen asleep. She was loath to wake him, not examining her motives too closely, so she decided that if he had not surfaced by the time she left she would leave him a note, cowardly though that might be.
The next thing to do was to ring for coffee—she felt too nervous and excited to be able to face any food -and that done, she took a shower.
The water was deliciously cool, and after dusting herself with lightly-scented talc, Jassy slipped on a silk robe and sipped her rich, bitter coffee while deciding what to wear.
Ten minutes before she was due to meet Max she was dressed in a black bikini under jeans and a white peasant-style blouse which gave her a curiously fragile look. Her blonde hair swung thick and silky down her back and her small face was free of makeup, except for a couple of coats of waterproof mascara that shadowed and darkened her brown eyes.
She examined herself critically in the mirror, childishly wishing that she was more beautiful, from the top of her shining head to her sandalled feet. She would have to do, she thought wryly, slipping a thin gold bangle on to her wrist.
She crammed a towel into her voluminous shoulder bag and some suntan oil, just in case. Max had not specified what plans he had for the day, so she wanted to be ready for anything and everything.
It was time to go, so scrawling a hasty note to Morgan explaining what was happening, Jassy slung her bag over her shoulder, and taking a deep breath left the suite and walked quickly to the lift, not managing to quell the butterflies in her stomach.
She emerged into the still and glaring sunlight a moment or so later, to find herself staring at Max, who was leaning indolently against a low black open-top sports car scanning a Spanish newspaper with an air of suppressed impatience. Jassy was overwhelmed by his strength, his magnificence.
He lifted his proud dark head, sensing her approach, and their eyes met, with Jassy experiencing a shocking turning of her stomach. Narrowed green eyes slid over her slender body appraisingly, taking in her appearance and her loose, shining hair with a faint unreadable smile.
She stood in front of him now and her breath seemed to be locked inside her lungs, and she did not dare to meet those probing eyes.
'Good morning, Jassy.' His lips brushed her forehead briefly, warm, hard and unbearably casual.
'Hello.' Her voice was small and breathless and she felt unaccountably shy. 'I didn't know what we'd be doing—you didn't say, so I hope. . . .' Her need to break the awkward silence had prompted her to speak and her voice trailed off uneasily as she listened to the nonsense she was talking.
'You look perfect,' said Max, his voice hard. 'Beautiful and unbearably innocent. Let's go, shall we?'
He opened the car door for her and Jassy slid inside, feeling very foolish, sensing that he was angry in some way. She cursed herself for the stupid remarks she had made. He had probably thought she was fishing for compliments on her appearance, and her face flamed, as she prayed that the day would not be a disaster.
Max was beside her in the car, only inches away, Watching her, and Jassy was desperately aware of him, of every small movement he made, and most of all of his lazy scrutiny.
' He touched her soft hair gently, aware of her shyness, Jiis mouth tightening as she flinched, unable to help herself. Her heart was beating very fast, and she longed with all her soul to be able to laugh and lalk to him normally. But the words were sticking in her throat, her mind was a complete, agonising blank and she was too affected by his nearness. He was too strong and overpowering this morning, nothing like the gentle, sympathetic man who had held her on the moonlit beach, and she could not cope with him.
'Okay, what is it?' His voice was quite expressionless, and she heard the click of his lighter and seconds later smelt the fragrance of expensive tobacco.
Still finding herself unable to look at him, Jassy shrugged miserably. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered, aware of how unsuitable her answer was.
'Has something happened? Your stepfather?' he pursued, his voice softening as his glance rested on the sad hunch of her slim shoulders.
Jassy shook her head, turning herself to face him, ignoring the inner leaping of all her senses as she fixed her stare on his beautifully-moulded mouth.
'No, nothing like that. I haven't even seen Morgan,' she muttered weakly.
'Then what is it? Why are you so jumpy and nervous this morning?'
She did not answer.
'Do you think I'm going to kidnap you, or maybe force my unwanted attentions on you?' he asked softly, his eyes dangerous.
'No ' Her hasty, immediate answer gave her
away, and she coloured brightly.
His mouth twisted mockingly. 'What a trusting child you are, then,' he said harshly, stubbing out his cigarette with violent ease.
Jassy lowered her head, feeling hurt and very sensitive. His cold, deliberately cruel remark had cut through her like
a knife through butter.
Max sighed, his eyes on her downturned, vulnerable profile. 'God, I'm sorry, Jassy—I've been behaving like a swine. Forgive me? It's just that I've
been waiting ' He broke off abruptly, changing
his mind in mid-sentence. He tilted up her face gently and gave her a coaxing, devastating smile.
'Forgive me?' he repeated persuasively.
How could she not forgive him? she thought, as she felt the shy smile of her response, curving her mouth and lighting her trusting eyes.
'I'm sorry too. I just feel so shy sometimes,' she said, hoping that he understood. He did.
'What would you like to do this morning?' he asked with a hard, warm grin, releasing her chin and switching on the engine.
'You choose,' she responded brightly, feeling happy again.
'Shall we swim? I know a private cove farther along the shore.'
'It sounds perfect. I'm not feeling very energetic today and lying in the sun will suit me fine,' Jassy laughed.
As they pulled speedily on to the coast road, she glanced discreetly at the dark man sitting so near to her, careful not to let him become aware of her scrutiny.
He looked lean and tanned, his slim hips and powerful legs encased in faded blue denim jeans that stretched tight across his flat muscular stomach. He also wore a blue sleeveless tee-shirt that left bare his wide brown shoulders and strongly-muscled arms. Jassy watched with fascination, the rippling movements of those muscles, as he deftly manoeuvred the car along the busy coast road. He was very strong, a superb male animal and the leashed power that he unconsciously emitted made her skin prickle with tiny darts of excitement.
Her gaze moved upwards to his tanned throat and sharply-defined fleshless jaw, and the thick dark hair that lay against his neck, glinting in the relentless light, and her breathing became suddenly shallow and difficult. She remembered with heart-stopping clarity the touch and feel of his smooth, tanned skin, the "springy texture of the dark hair that matted his flat chest, beneath her curling, sensitive fingertips, when he had rescued her on the beach.
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