The sound of chatter was swelling and the flow of laughter was indication enough that the party was a success—but suddenly he was filled with a sense of something unfinished. Without thinking, he brushed his fingertip along her bare forearm and saw her eyes darken at just that brief touch. And something in her instantaneous reaction awoke in him an answering need, which thundered through his blood like a fever. How did she do it? How the hell did she drive all sane thoughts clean out of his mind so that all he could think about was possessing her as urgently and as thoroughly as possible?
Swallowing down the suddenly unbearable desire which was making his body tense, he looked at her—resenting her golden-haired magnetism and her power over him even as he revelled in its inevitable outcome.
‘Can I have a private word with you?’ he questioned softly.
‘Sure. When?’
‘How about now?’
‘But the party—’
‘Needs neither of us. And I need to talk to you, Emma.’
‘Need’ was a word which Zak didn’t do very often and Emma’s heart was racing as they made their way out of the ballroom. Some stupid little spark of hope kept flaring up inside her—though it wavered momentarily as she realised that he was taking her to his empty office on the first floor.
‘Zak?’ she questioned uncertainly as the door slammed shut behind them and he pulled her into his arms. And the little flare of hope grew into a great big flame as she saw the intense look in his eyes. Had he brought her here because it was nearer? Because he couldn’t wait a second longer to be alone with her? Was he maybe regretting her departure as much as she was?
‘Emma,’ he said as he looked down at her for one long, hard moment before lowering his mouth to hers.
Her lips opened beneath his as he kissed her with a passion she was used to—but there was something else in it, too. Something which underpinned it and felt almost like … anger? And that something seemed to ignite an answering flame in her. Suddenly she was on fire for him. Her fingernails scrabbled hungrily at his chest as he pulled the pins from her hair, allowing it to spill over her shoulders before levering her up against his aroused body.
‘I want you,’ he ground out, his hand sliding beneath her dress and working its way up her thigh to the cool silk of her thigh. ‘Damn you, Emma Geary, but I want you. You’re like a fever in my blood—do you know that?’
‘Zak,’ she breathed, his name leaving her lips with soft urgency. ‘Oh, Zak. I want you, too. Always. Always.’
The stressed word was like a bucket of ice-water thrown all over him and suddenly he released her, seeming to steady his breath with difficulty as he walked over to the huge windows so that he was silhouetted against them like a towering black statue.
Emma’s heart lurched as she looked across the room at the inexplicably dark expression on his face. What on earth was the matter with him? What had she said that was so wrong?
‘What is it?’ she whispered as she met the daunting glitter in his eyes.
For a moment Zak didn’t answer as he fought against his unbearable desire. He wanted her so much. He wanted her so much he couldn’t think straight. He’d wanted her even when he’d thought she was his own brother’s lover!
A cold wave of guilt washed over him and so did the memory of that word. Always. Was Emma so certain of her hold over him that she thought she’d succeeded where so many others had failed? That she’d got her hooks into him for life? She was no different from any other woman and this was nothing but a powerful lust which would soon fade. Just the way all the others had faded …
‘Take off your panties,’ he said suddenly.
Something in the way he said it made Emma’s blood run cold. ‘What?’
‘You heard. Take your panties off.’
‘Why?’ she whispered.
His eyes met hers in a sizzling look which only yesterday might have had her melting. ‘Oh, come on, Emma—you were an innocent who has become the most alluring of lovers, the most avid student of sex I’ve ever known.’ His voice dipped. ‘And I want you to strip for me in my office. It’s a fantasy I’ve been nurturing for a while now. The memory of it will sustain me while I’m dealing with boring business calls. Instead of gazing out at skyscrapers, I can close my eyes and picture the magnificence of your soft thighs.’
Still she said nothing and, arrogantly, he let his hand slide along the straining ridge at his fly, seeing the instinctive parting of her lips as he did so. ‘So why the hesitation? You don’t usually hesitate over my suggestions.’
‘Suggestion?’ she repeated, her breath coming very hot and fast in her rapidly drying throat as the reality of the situation came slamming home to her. And suddenly she realised that he was treating her the way that men used to treat her mother—like some sort of cheap hooker. ‘Is that what you call it? You bring me up here while the party’s still going on. And, for what? You want a striptease, no doubt followed by a quick bonk—’
‘“A quick bonk”?’ he echoed disbelievingly. ‘I don’t do quick bonks!’
‘Whatever!’ she flared back. ‘The terminology isn’t the point! What do you suppose all those guests at the party would think if I suddenly reappeared downstairs looking thoroughly ravished?’
‘It isn’t the role of my guests to have opinions about my private life,’ he snapped.
‘Except it isn’t very private, is it, Zak? You bring me here and make me feel like a cheap tart—was that your intention?’
‘You’ve stripped for me before.’