‘No. Not like that. Not this time,’ she whispered.
He nodded, slipping on a condom he suddenly had no desire to wear before slowly entering her. Instantly, he lost himself in her tight heat and as she wrapped her legs around his bare back it felt as if she’d suddenly taken lack of inhibition to a whole new level. Because this was Roxanne on fire. Her kisses were deep and drugging. Her hands seemed to whisper over every inch of his skin—working an exquisite magic wherever they touched. He heard himself gasping with helpless pleasure as she took control.
She was whispering things into his ear. Things he could barely make out through his heightened senses. He felt the tension building. He felt as if his body was going to explode—as if he might die with desire for her. She gave a wild cry as she orgasmed around him and his own responding cry sounded guttural as his seed pumped deep inside her.
Afterwards, he felt curiously shaken—even more so when he felt the wetness of her tears against his face. His normal response would have been to put distance between them—because women and tears were never a good combination, especially in bed. But Titus was as contented as a jungle predator who had just been fed a large lump of juicy flesh, so instead he lazily turned his head and traced a thoughtful finger along the smooth damp surface of her cheek.
‘Roxanne?’ he said, but she didn’t answer and his question was forgotten as fireworks began to erupt in the sky outside the huge windows of his bedroom. He shook her gently by the shoulder. ‘Someone must have given the order to light them. Look out there.’
Obediently, Roxanne stared straight ahead, trying to concentrate on the lavish display as she watched the fireworks explode in the night sky. Silver. Gold. Pink and blue. There were sunbursts and cascades—their whirring sounds mostly drowned by the accompanying strains of classical music. Fireworks to celebrate the birthday of the eleventh Duke of Torchester, with no expenses spared.
‘They’re wonderful,’ she said, dredging up what passed for enthusiasm from some dark and empty place deep inside her.
‘Aren’t they?’ He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. ‘And perfect timing, don’t you think?’
‘Oh, perfect,’ she echoed, but her heart felt as if it were breaking and she had no one to blame but herself. She had signed up for this. The nobody who had made the mistake of thinking she was somebody. She had walked right into an affair which had never been intended to last, thinking that she was strong enough to cope and it turned out that she wasn’t. The warmth of her orgasm was fading into a terrible iciness which was encasing her body as she lay perfectly still.
Comfortably Titus snaked his arm around her waist, hooking her closer so that her bare bottom pushed against the already hardening thrust of his groin. Later, he thought lazily. He would make love to her later. And he let his heavy eyelids drift down to a close.
Roxanne lay in his arms for what seemed like hours, listening to the sound of his deepening breathing until she was certain he was asleep. Gingerly, she shifted an exploratory leg to the edge of the bed and although he stirred slightly—he did not waken.
Her movements were silent as she picked up the golden shoes and put them carefully in the bag, along with the rhinestone dress and the white fur stole. Then she slipped into her jeans, sweater and sheepskin boots and let herself out of Titus’s room.
She needed to be careful. The party was still going on and if she ran into Vanessa at this point it would be little short of nightmare. Like a shadow, she slipped from the house and ran over to her cottage just as dawn was breaking. It was one of those incredible winter mornings with nature providing her very own firework display. Pale apricot and coral light blotted out the fading stars and the great house looked very beautiful against the lightening sky.
She wondered what Titus would do when he woke. Would he wonder where she had gone—or simply be relieved that she had slipped away without fuss?
She was shivering by the time she let herself into the cottage and quietly crept up to her room. Gathering together her things, she began to lay them on the bed. Packing was one of the things she was really good at—but then, she’d had enough practice when she was touring. Efficiently, she layered her clothing in the suitcase—and was just wondering whether she could hitch a ride to London from one of the party guests when she heard the front door open.
She knew it was Titus, but presumably he wasn’t calling out for fear of waking Amy. She found herself praying that he might just turn around and go out again if she didn’t go downstairs to greet him.
Her breathing sounded unnaturally loud as she heard the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. And then suddenly, he was standing in the doorway of her bedroom looking dark and powerful and more than a little intimidating.
For a moment he said nothing—just looked from her face to the suitcase and then back up to her face again.
‘Going somewhere?’ he questioned.
She wanted to scream. To fling herself at him with a burst of heartbroken tears—but Roxy knew that a scene would only complicate things. It would make leaving even more difficult and she needed to stay calm. To show him that she’d thought this through. Most importantly of all—to let him know that she wasn’t going to change her mind.
‘Well, that is what is usually implied by someone putting clothes in a suitcase.’ She raised her eyebrows at him in mocking question. ‘I thought you’d know that better than anyone.’
‘You’re leaving?’
She heard the incredulous note in his voice and part of her had to admire his incredible chutzpah. ‘Yes, I’m leaving. It was never intended that I should stay after your party.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t. But isn’t this just a little dramatic? Slipping away from my bed in the middle of the night, without bothering to tell me?’
‘You were asleep.’
‘Please don’t insult my intelligence, Roxanne. You could have woken me up.’
She wedged a shoe down the side of the bulging case. ‘Maybe I was saving us both the embarrassment of bumping into one of your guests—or one of the other staff.’
‘Surely that’s something for my consideration, not yours?’
His arrogance made something inside her snap and Roxy straightened up, all her good intentions to stay calm deserting her. ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you?’ she accused. ‘You make this big, magnanimous gesture about letting me spend the night in your precious bedroom—yet you still can’t help yourself from acting superior! I thought I was there last night as your equal—’
‘And you were!’