But how could he have known? How had she given herself away? A dark thread of fear ran through her veins, making her shiver. When she thought of the devastation the evening had brought, her legs weakened, threatening to give way beneath her. How much of this had he planned?
How much of this had been just bad luck and how much had Raoul acted as the master manipulator, pulling the strings of the puppets he had under his control, making them dance to his tune when they didn’t even know the name of the song?
‘How could you know?’
‘I know you.’
‘Oh, come on, how can you claim that?’ she scoffed, wincing inwardly at the high pitch that turned her defiance into a squeak of fear. He was watching so intently that she couldn’t hide a thing from him. ‘You knew me once, for what—two weeks, if that? We were just ships that passed in the night, a holiday fling—a lot of fun but…but…’
‘But what, Imogen?’ Raoul challenged with that singular, individual pronunciation of her name that only he used. The one that brought back the memories, the long, warm days of Corsica, the hot passion of the nights in his bed.
‘But nothing more…’
She broke off in shock and disbelief as he shook his head so fiercely that the tiny diamond-like water droplets still lingering on his hair from his rapid face-wash scattered over her, sprinkling her face with moisture.
‘How can you say nothing more? How dare you say there was nothing else between us?’
‘Oh, yes, there was sex!’
High and tight, she flung the word in his shuttered face, knowing a sense of despair as she saw that there was no flicker of reaction, not even a blink of those basilisk eyes.
‘And that was all.’
‘All?’ To her horror, it was almost laughter, the word shaking on the edge of dark amusement. ‘You call that all?’
She wished she could convince herself that there had been nothing more but, watching the way his mouth moved on the words, scorched by his smile, she knew that even to describe them as old flames wouldn’t come anywhere near it.
Old flames still burned and she could feel the heat searing the room, recognised the smouldering embers in Raoul’s deep-set eyes.
‘All…’ she tried but the word was just a croak in her throat.
Raoul smiled that dark smile. Lifting one hand, he crooked a long finger, beckoning her towards him.
‘Come here,’ he said, unexpectedly softly.
‘No.’
She wanted to shake her head in rough denial of the command but her neck seemed to have stiffened so that all she could manage was a slight tilt backwards, her chin coming up in defiance. That smile grew worryingly.
‘Scared?’ It was even softer, tightening the knot in her stomach.
‘Scared? Never!’
Oh, but she was. And not of him. It was herself she was scared of. The fizz of electricity along her nerves, the burn of fire in her veins, made her feel as if her body was not her own. Once again the puppet master was pulling her strings and she had no choice but to dance to his tune.
He was going to kiss her, no matter what. She saw it in the darkness of his eyes, the way the black pupils had almost obliterated any trace of colour. She could see the curve at the corner of those sensual lips, the way they were slightly parted over his white teeth. She could almost taste him on her own mouth already, the memory of years ago so vivid that she expected to feel the warmth of the sun on her back, the shift of soft sand between her toes.
He was going to kiss her and she could read the thought in his face. He believed that all he had to do was move forward, take her face in his hands, lift her mouth towards his…and she would either melt into his embrace—or twist away from him and run for the door. Either one of those reactions would show him just too much of what she was feeling, however hard she tried to hide it.
That was what he expected. But there was one way she could take the initiative, knock him off-balance. He wasn’t getting all his own way on this; and, right now, that one way fitted so much with what she wanted anyway.
‘Not scared!’ she declared and, high on the excitement of wrong-footing him, dodging the hand that was reaching for her, she almost danced towards him, taking him by surprise as she came close enough to drop a fleeting butterfly kiss on that warm, sensual mouth.