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He rounded the table, grasped her elbow and practically dragged her through the bar towards the bank of discreet lifts at the back.

‘That wasn’t seduction, that was an open invitation.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Somewhere private to have this conversation. A place where the patrons of my establishment won’t be subjected to a crude opening of the bedroom door which would have left you both unsatisfied and grieving for the loss of your innocence.’

With the swipe of his key card the lift doors opened and, despite the urge to practically throw her into the small space, he released her elbow and gestured for her to enter before him.

She did so, surprisingly without argument, and he stepped in to face her. ‘Seduction is about power,’ he said, looming over her, yet also trying desperately not to make physical contact, not to touch a millimetre of the deliciously small form practically vibrating with the same ferocious energy he felt building within him. ‘The giving and taking of it, subtly shifting between the seducer and the seduced. I do not think you are ready for that.’

‘I am not the girl I once was,’ she said. He gave her credit for managing to keep the tremors of her body from her voice.

‘And I am not the man you married.’

‘So, who are you then?’ she demanded.

‘The man who is trying to show you that, should you choose to go down that path, you would only get yourself into more trouble than you are in now.’

The lift arrived and the doors parted to reveal his penthouse apartment. But Ella saw none of the incredible views of Moscow from the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that took up the entire length and width of the side wall. She saw nothing of the expensively decorated room, the fireplace and sprawling leather sofa that could have easily seated six people. Instead, the sheer dismissal of Roman’s reaction to her threat had fired outrage within her breast. An outrage that contained a hint of the hurt that her husband had refused to touch her, that the Great Wolf, as the newspapers had reported him to be, the ‘errant seducer’, had chosen to leave her innocent.

And that wall of heat, that fire within her wanted it all to burn. Every last shred of a connection between her and this man.

‘Oh, how very kind of you to look after my innocence now. After you took everything I knew and tore it down.’

‘Everything you knew? Really? You met and married a man within five weeks. I did not force you into it.’

His words taunted her, scratched at wounds not yet healed. ‘You lied to me.’

‘It was a kindness. I didn’t have the luxury of lies growing up.’

‘A kindness?’

‘Yes. Would you rather I’d kidnapped you and forced you?’

She wanted to growl, to scream her rage. ‘You present two equally awful options and ask me which is better?’

‘I did not blackmail you, nor abuse your body. Your innocence is no defence against your own actions, and ignorance is no excuse.’

‘Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?’ she demanded.

‘Don’t you think it is better to know the truth about Vladimir? He used you as bait for me. Does that not outrage you?’

‘You think it worse to be used by him than you?’

‘Yes. Trust in that. If not me, then there would have been worse options out there.’

‘You think there is worse out there than what you did to me?’ Ella said, unable to wrap her head around the fact that her husband clearly thought himself a saviour of sorts.

‘Yes. Believe it or not, there are. Ones who wouldn’t have stopped themselves from taking everything you had on offer, including your innocence and much more.’

‘Don’t you dare paint yourself in some heroic light, rescuing me from a fate worse than you.’

‘I didn’t come after your money or your body.’

‘I hate you,’ she growled, finally letting loose all the pent-up energy and hurt accrued over the last eight months.

‘Good. Now you might just understand a fraction of what I felt for my grandfather.’


Tags: Pippa Roscoe Billionaire Romance