His mouth moved forcibly against hers, evoking a multitude of memories she would rather have suppressed. His hands slid down her back to press her hard against his taut frame. His teeth bit into her lower lip, demanding that she give him access, abandon herself to the passionate awareness that had simmered beneath the surface between them all night.
Fury at his presumption battled with a rising tide of excitement she could barely control. She wanted to give in to his erotic demand, lose herself in the heady pleasure of his kiss, but she did not dare; he must never know how easily he could reduce her to a state of mindless, aching desire.
She raised her foot and stepped down hard on his, her stiletto heel sinking into the soft leather of his shoe. He dropped her like a hot potato, and hopped around the lift, holding his foot.
'What the hell did you do that for? You've almost lamed me!' Jake thundered, his eyes hardening to chips of jet.
The lift door slid open, and Katy shot out. She didn't like the glint in Jake's eye—it promised retaliation—but she could not repress a chuckle; he had looked funny hopping around on one leg.
'Don't play me for a fool, Katy, or you'll live to regret it,' he threatened, before adding pointedly, 'If you thought you had seen the worst of my temper in Paris that was nothing to what I could do now.'
She already bitterly regretted ever having met him, and she flinched at his reminder of Paris. He had turned her life upside-down once, and had tried a
second time, but no way was he doing it a third time. 'Open the door, please,' she muttered, not looking at him. If she could just nip inside and slam it in his face... She watched his tanned hand insert the key in the lock, but in an ungentlemanly move for Jake he walked into the room first.
'Thank you,' she murmured politely, and, brushing past him, she made a beeline for the bedroom and the safety of the bathroom.
'Katy! Damn you, I'm not finished with you yet, not by a long way.'
'So write me a letter,' she replied cheekily.
She made it and locked the door behind her, Jake's cry of outrage ringing in her ears. A cold shower—that's what I need, she thought foggily, and with a bit of luck Jake would be gone by the time she was finished.
With unsteady hands she stripped off every stitch of clothing, and, turning the taps on full blast, she stepped into the shower stall. Her whole body went rigid with shock at the first touch of the icy spray. Katy turned her face up to the water and gradually, as it streamed through her hair and over her shivering body, she regained control of her befuddled brain. She had no idea how long she stood under the freezing torrent, until a loud banging on the bathroom door penetrated her consciousness.
'Katy,' he roared, 'if you are not out of there in two minutes I am breaking this door down.'
Jake! She groaned. Was she to be spared nothing? She had hoped he would leave, but obviously he had followed her as far as the bedroom. She was in no fit state to cross swords again with him, but it looked as if she had no alternative. Turning off the shower, she stepped out of the cubicle, and, wrapping a fluffy white towel around her soaking wet hair, she rubbed her shivering body dry.
'Thirty seconds.' The deadly intent in the two words was unmistakable.
Quickly Katy slipped on a large towelling bathrobe and tied the belt firmly around her waist. A quick look in the bathroom mirror stopped her dead in her tracks. With her face scrubbed clean of make-up, and her hair firmly confined beneath the towel, she looked nothing like a pin-up; instead she looked like a very ordinary and rather frightened young woman.
'Ten seconds.' The sound galvanised her into action, and with a shrug of her slender shoulders she walked to the door and unlocked it.
'Oh!' The surprised exclamation left her lips before she could prevent it. Jake was standing by the large double bed and appeared to be in the process of discarding his clothes. Her heart slammed against her breast, her eyes widening as she saw he had removed his jacket and tie, his shirt was unbuttoned almost to his waist, and he was deftly removing the gold cuff-links from the pristine cuffs of his shirt.
Her gaze lingered helplessly on his muscular chest, and for a moment she had a terrific urge to run her fingers through his black curling body hair, to feel once again his firm tanned flesh beneath her hands. Involuntarily she took a step forward, the sheer animal magnetism of the man drawing her like a magnet. She raised her eyes to his, and froze at what she saw there.
There was a menacing controlled violence in his dark eyes that she had never seen before. For the first time she recognised his Italian heritage. He scrutinised her slender form with a savage ruthlessness that made her feel she was naked. Instinctively she pulled the belt of her robe tighter, and stiffened her spine.
'What the hell do you think you are doing?' She went on the attack, swallowing hard on the knot of fear that rose in her throat. Just how much whisky had the man drunk? she wondered, noting the odd glint in his black eyes.
'Talking with you never got me anywhere, Katy. I am going to do what I should have done years ago: take you to bed and make love to you until you are so damned senseless that you will agree to anything.'
All her instincts told her to run, but whether it was the after-effect of the wine or just sheer bravado she didn't know. Instead she watched him walk towards her—and what did he mean, 'agree to anything'?
The hand that reached out and lifted her chin was firm, but she forced herself to ignore the pressure of his fingers on her jaw, and, raising her eyes to his, she arched one perfectly shaped brow derisively. 'Honestly, Jake, darling, I had no idea you could be so dramatic.' She forced a laugh. 'But the evening is over now, and I think you'd better leave.'
Her casual response infuriated him, and for a few timeless seconds Jake looked capable of murder. Then in a low voice harsh with anger he grated, 'Oh, no, Katy, darling,' mimicking her words, then his hand closed on the lapel of her robe and ripped it open, not with violence but with a cold, premeditated resolution. 'It is only one-thirty and I have paid until two.'
Katy's bravado vanished in an instant; she raised one hand to push him away, and with the other tried to grasp the edges of her gaping robe, but he was too fast for her. With consummate ease he caught her wrists and pinned them behind her back in one large hand. 'Let go of me, you great brute!' she screeched.
'No!' The implacable negative was snapped out like a gunshot as his other hand deliberately untied the belt around her waist.
She was terrified. The musky male scent of him stirred her senses, reminding her of emotions she had thought long since dead. Belatedly she started to struggle, but she was helpless against his superior strength. He towered over her, large and unyielding, and her futile exertions only resulted in her robe sliding off one shoulder completely.
His dark eyes slid ruthlessly over her exposed breasts, down to her narrow waist, the flat plain of her stomach, the nest of soft golden curls at the apex of her thighs, then slowly over her shapely legs. She was virtually naked, and heat flooded through her at his blatant cynical appraisal of her trembling form.