‘Ormyboyfriend might not want you asournext-door neighbour,’ she added sweetly, and she felt a surge of savage satisfaction when she saw his expression darken, while fire not ice filtered into his dark stare.
He suddenly looked very dangerous and she knew it wasn’t an illusion but, instead of feeling like running for the hills or at least closing her mouth over further inflammatory comments, Gwen felt a rush of exhilaration.
‘I think that it’s back to the drawing board, Rio, because that idea absolutely does not fly with me. I’m happy for you to have access to Ellie but I am not living a lie for anyone.’
There was a look of shock on his face, as though he wasn’t used to anyone saying no to him, which he probably wasn’t, but Gwen didn’t feel sorry for him because she was too busy feeling utterly furious with him.
As the worst effects of the flash of mind-freezing fury sparked by the image Gwen’s words had planted in his head, of her in bed with some other man, subsided, Rio recovered his voice.
‘I’m not asking you to live a lie.’ She was twisting everything, making it sound as though he hadn’t thought it through, but he had.
‘Just live next door to you, I know, and be on tap for sex when there is nothing better on offer. They used to call that being a mistress.’ Her chin went up and she glared at him through fiery cobalt eyes. ‘Well, I am not mistress material and I have no idea where you got the idea I was.’
‘Believe me, if I had a mistress it wouldn’t be one who takes offence at absolutely nothing. At least I have a plan! What do you suggest we do?’ he asked, feeling incredibly frustrated that she had turned down his idea point-blank, without even considering it.
‘I don’t have todoanything. Ellie is my daughter. I’m not going to give up my job, my life and move halfway around the country just so that it’s more convenient for you.’ Hands on the arms of the sofa, she pushed herself up.
‘So are you holding out for marriage, then? Is that what this is all about?’
The sneer in his voice did it. She twirled back on him, for once able to look him in the face as she levelled her shaking finger at his broad chest. ‘Obviously I’m desperately tempted,’ she snapped with withering sarcasm.
Rio, who had regretted the words the moment they left his lips and blamed them on the image of her nameless future lover still residing in his head, felt the regret fade as she spoke. He reached up, his fingers curling around the wrist above the wagging finger.
She froze but didn’t resist the light pressure he exerted to draw her downwards. Her only reaction was to reach out and brace a hand against the arm of the sofa to stop her body simply collapsing against him; as it was he was close enough to feel the heat off her body and inhale the scent of her skin.
One hand curved across the back of her head, fingers digging deep in her hair as he brought her face in close, feeling the tremor that ran through her body. Above the dull hammer thud of his heartbeat he could hear the soft hiss of her uneven breathing, and feel her warm breath on his face. Only a thin rim of bright blue remained visible around her massively dilated pupils.
This wasn’t the normal scratching of a carnal itch; it was as if something in her connected with a deep inner emptiness inside him, and he wanted to fill it with her warmth. As he stared into her eyes the hunger inside him flared white-hot and any anger that had been in him seeped away as the tide of hot, humid desire rushed in to replace it. What shocked him the most was that in the middle of all the lust a tenderness surfaced. She looked so confused and so lost—the idea of being a person who would take advantage of that confusion repelled him.
With a growled imprecation of self-disgust he released her. It was so sudden and the sense of anticlimax so extreme that Gwen gasped like someone who had just fallen into ice water and staggered a couple of steps before she regained her balance.
She just stood there looking at him, her plump lips swollen as if he had just kissed them, and temptingly parted as she dragged in air in gulping gasps like someone who was drowning.
The strength of the passions he stirred inside her with such insultingly effortless ease was terrifying and yet it was also exciting. She didn’t know who she was; the swift shift from angry resentment to all-consuming passion was utterly disorientating. She ought to be grateful he had stopped, that he hadn’t kissed her, but she wasn’t. She was angry.
She was aching.
She buried her humiliation deep behind a blank mask. ‘I’ll go and check on Ellie.’ She turned, head held high and narrow back straight, and walked back into the house.
The unstudied provocation of the gentle sway of her hips distracted Rio enough to make him forget to make allowances for his injuries as he dragged a frustrated hand down the bruised and battered side of his face.
He held in a groan of pain behind the barrier of his clenched white teeth.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FIFTYPUNISHINGLAPSof the pool hadn’t even taken the edge off his frustration, although Rio hoped that if he punished his body enough it would stop punishing him or maybe the voice in his head would just switch off. Even turning the volume down would be a help at this stage.
He swam to the side and put his hands on the tiled surround to heave himself out and changed his mind. Falling backwards into the water again, he allowed himself to sink to the bottom, staying there long enough to feel the burn in his lungs before he kicked for the surface and the sparkle of the rejected multicoloured lights.
He broke the surface gasping, his chest heaving, and wondering if maybe the pool had been a mistake. The memories of the previous night were still too fresh in his mind.
Well, they’re going to stay that way, aren’t they, Rio, while you carry on reliving every glorious minute of it?He shook his head, sending a shower of silver droplets outwards onto the water, pebbling the still surface.
Let it go, counselled the voice in his head, but it wasn’t easy advice to take when he didn’t want to let anything go and desperately wanted a repeat performance.
He leaned back, letting the water support his body, and he stayed that way for several moments, arms outstretched in a crucifix position, staring through half-closed lids at the stars dotted in the midnight blanket of the night sky. Except it wasn’t midnight, it was three a.m. and yet again he hadn’t had a moment’s sleep.
With a small grunt of effort he struck out, still on his back, his body silently cutting through the water. His arms and legs worked in unison as he cleaved straight as an arrow through the water, pushing himself to the limit and silently counting out each turn.