‘Oh, don’t!’ Imogen broke in sharply, rawly, her voice cracking on the words. ‘Please don’t!’
‘Why not?’
Looking into her eyes, he was astonished to see the pleading expression in their depths. It shook him rigid. Never before had he offered a woman a compliment—a heartfelt compliment like this one—only for her to react as if he had just thrown acid in her face.
‘But you must know that’s true,’ he said, astounded. ‘Your mirror must tell you it’s so each time you look into it. And you must recall the way I—the way it used to be. I was knocked off-balance from the moment I saw you in that bar. I still am.’
‘Oh, please, no!’
She shook her head so violently that the dark, silky strands of her hair flew out around her face, the soft essence of some shampoo she had used reaching his nostrils and tantalising them with the subtle fragrance.
‘I don’t want to think about that—I don’t ever want to remember how you claim you felt back then.’
‘Not claim—’ he began, but her hand came up between them in a slicing gesture, cutting off what he had been about to say.
‘No! The past is the past and I want it to stay there. We don’t want to revive any of those unwanted memories.’
‘Speak for yourself.’
He’d revive everything right this minute if he could. Nothing of the way he had felt about her had been buried. He still hungered; his body still burned for hers. The only thing that would be different was that this time…
He couldn’t hold back the cynical laugh that escaped him at the thought that last time he had hated the fact that she had only wanted him for his money. This time that fact would be an advantage, a lever to get exactly what he wanted.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘The idea of you claiming that all of that was buried when you know it’s a lie. Remember…’ he reproved when her pretty mouth opened, obviously about to frame a tart protest.
He found he actually liked the thought of her protesting. He didn’t want too easy a conquest; a spirited woman was much more satisfying. He had enjoyed Imogen’s spirit when they had been together before.
‘Remember, I had you in my arms last night. I held you against me.’
The fluttering of those long, lush eyelashes told him he’d hit home with that and she was, even now, remembering just how it had felt to be that close.
‘I kissed you. I felt your response—the instinctive response you couldn’t hide.’
‘I…’
Was she going to try to refute it? How could she even think of lying about that? He’d held her, kissed her, tasted her, felt her response. And he had known then that he could not walk away again without experiencing the heat of her embrace; the warm, welcoming moisture at the core of her; the pressure of her body against his; her slender, soft legs entwined around him, hips opening to him, breasts crushed against his chest.
Under the force of his reproving stare, she bit the words back. He could see the rapid adjustment of her thoughts, the change that flitted behind her eyes.
‘You said that would make things easier,’ she muttered, with a defiance that didn’t match her expression. ‘What did you mean by that? Make what easier?’
Now was not the time to go into that. That would come when they had time really to talk. When everything about this abandoned wedding had been cleared away. When she was left to face the future without it.
Then he would tell her what he had planned—and how she fitted into it. He would reveal most of his thoughts, but not all of them. The last truth would come when he knew he had her where he wanted her.
‘Not now.’
He was already turning away, back into the big dining hall where the caterers had just about completed their packing away, and the fine food and elegant dishes were all waiting to be disposed of like so many guilty secrets.
‘We have to get things sorted out. What do you want doing with all this?’
As he expected, drawing attention to all that needed to be done immediately distracted her. He actually felt a twist of sympathy when he saw the way her face paled, her eyes dulling as she surveyed the task before her. She looked very slender, almost delicate, and disturbingly vulnerable. The way she straightened her spine, squaring her shoulders, brought a new sensation of admiration for the way she was handling this. Alone.