This last shock was too much for Katy to take. Numb, she followed him up the steps to the foyer of the apartment block.
'Key.'
Mechanically she searched her small handbag and handed him the key. She said nothing as he took her cold hand in his and led her into her own apartment.
'You're cold. Come here.' He pulled her into his arms, his dark head bent towards her, and his mouth covered hers.
Katy made no resistance; she sagged like a rag doll in his arms as his teeth nipped her bottom lip, forcing her mouth to open to the invasion of his tongue. He plundered her mouth like a man starved of sustenance, but she made no response. The last shocking revelation had been too much for her.
With a muttered oath Jake thrust her away from him, the backs of her knees hit the sofa, and she collapsed on to it.
'As my mistress you will have to do a hell of a lot better than that,' he opined cynically.
Katy raised her head and with a clinical precision studied his dark implacable features. A muscle tensed along his jaw, and she could sense a latent anger seething beneath the surface of his otherwise expressionless face.
Intuitively she recognised he had just given her a way to beat him. She had not been able to understand why he wanted her. He could take his pick of women. But the reason was obvious: Jake could not stand rejection. Years before, after one night with him, she had turned him down and he had never forgotten.
His plan was clear: this time he would have his fill of her and cast her off when he wanted to. But his male ego would not be able to stand a cold woman in his bed, and, the way she felt at the moment, to lie frigid in his arms would be easy.
'Yes, Jake, I accept your proposition.' Slowly she stood up and walked towa
rds the bedroom door. 'The bed is this way.' She felt as though she were standing outside herself, and someone else was saying the words.
She dropped the fur wrap on the bedroom floor, and without looking to see if Jake had followed she removed her dress. She sat down on the edge of the bed and with slow deliberation she peeled off her stockings. The brief white teddy, her only remaining garment, outlined her curvaceous body with a sensuous provocation she was totally unconscious of as she stood up and pulled the covers back before sliding into bed. Only then did she look across the room.
Jake was standing in the doorway, his black eyes gleaming with angry puzzlement. She had a hysterical desire to laugh. What was he waiting for? A written invitation?
How strange: she felt nothing for him, she who had worried about loving him... Her green eyes watched him coolly as he crossed to the bed. He shrugged off his topcoat, jacket and tie. She watched with detached interest as he removed his shirt. His hands were at the buckle of his trousers when she spoke.
'Just one thing, before you go any further.' She noted the stiffening of his shoulders, and again stifled the desire to laugh. Was he worried she would change her mind? He had nothing to fear. 'I need your word of honour you will save Meldenton, before you get into this bed.'
It was so simple that she did not know why she had worried. He considered her a woman without morals, and, where he was concerned, he was right. She no longer cared a hoot what he thought of her.
He turned to stare down at her pale face. 'You have my word, Katy.'
'Thank you,' she murmured, and closed her eyes. She felt the cold air as he lifted the covers and slid into bed beside her. It would soon all be over. But in that she was wrong...
Instead of the savage onslaught she had been expecting, Jake leant over her and pressed a light kiss on her forehead; then, sliding one arm under her, he lay back down and drew her loosely against the warmth of his large body.
She noted he was naked, but it had no effect on her. She lay passive in his hold, waiting for whatever he wanted to do, secure in the knowledge she was past feeling anything for this man. The realisation that his bank financed Claude, and was therefore indirectly responsible for her success, was more than she could bear. He had destroyed what little pride in her achievements she had left. He had won, but in a way so had Katy.
Finally she could lie in his arms, breathe in the scent of him, and feel absolutely nothing. He had killed the last lingering traces of her teenage infatuation with him. He was not even worth hating, she told herself. Indifference destroyed a relationship much quicker than hate.
'I'm not a monster, Katy. I realise it has been a hell of a day for you. You're worn out—go to sleep.'
Her smooth brow creased in a frown. Jake, comforting her—what was he playing at? Of course! He always managed to have the last word, she thought caustically. Then the deep even sound of Jake's breathing told her he was asleep. Not at all what she had expected. Still, he was paying anyway, she thought fuzzily and, yawning widely, within minutes she was asleep.
The bright morning sunlight assaulted Katy's eyes and quickly she closed them again. A nagging worry touched the edge of her consciousness. Suddenly she sat up in bed, her huge green eyes wide with horror and confusion. She turned her head, the imprint in the pillow next to her confirming her worst fears.
She groaned and collapsed back down on the bed, flinging a slender arm across her eyes as if by some miracle she could block out the previous night. She must have been mad... The sound of running water coming from the bathroom told her Jake was still around. How could she face him?
'Good morning, Katy. I trust you slept well?' The amused mockery in his voice set her teeth on edge. He knew damn fine how she had slept, curled up warm and safe in his arms.
'Yes.' And from some inner well of courage she turned her head and looked at him. 'Thank you,' she mumbled reluctantly, unable to deny he had behaved like a perfect gentleman.
He strolled over to the bed, wearing only a towel, slung low on his hips; with another towel he was briskly rubbing his hair. A blush spread from her toes to her face; he was so magnificently male, all golden tan and rippling muscle. A few drops of water glistened on the dark curling hairs on his chest, and Katy had to fight down the urge to lean forward and lick them one by one.
God, what was happening to her? she groaned inwardly, tearing her eyes away from him. Where had her frigid resistance gone? The indifference of last night? She could never be indifferent to Jake in a million years. She must have suffered a mental aberration to believe otherwise.