She opened her mouth but no sound emerged. He would have grinned in triumph at finally silencing her sassy tongue, but he felt like she looked, poleaxed.
‘It’s not you.’ She grabbed his hands and dragged them away. ‘As you explained so clearly, it’s just sex.’
He watched her cheeks flush and something tightened inside. That blush of hers had fascinated him from the first. He’d assumed a woman who displayed her body in swimsuits and skimpy dresses would have lost the ability to blush. Not Poppy.
The first time he’d stripped her naked the rosy heat in her cheeks had been adorable, and he’d actually wondered if he might be her first lover. Until she’d responded with such unabashed enthusiasm he’d realised how impossible that was.
She cleared her throat. ‘It’s been a while for me, that’s all. That’s why I …’
‘So it isn’t me you want? Anyone would do? Is that what you’re saying?’ Orsino pulled back, watching a tiny frown wrinkle her forehead. ‘There was a guy this morning, one of the models, who’d love to be here, helping you scratch this particular itch. Maybe you should call him instead.’
Where the poisonous words came from Orsino didn’t know. Maybe a last-ditch effort to slice through the final bond linking them.
Yet as he spoke a dagger of heat plunged deep at the thought of Poppy with another man. Even now. Even after all this time. Hell!
He forced himself to withdraw back towards the bedroom door.
As he did her gaze drifted down his body and her eyes widened as she saw him naked and, despite his fury, fully aroused. His muscles clenched with the effort it took not to reach out and drag her to him.
He needed her but he refused to beg.
Poppy stared at his erection as if she’d never seen one before and he felt himself pulse, hard and eager.
Half an hour ago he’d almost embarrassed himself. He would have climaxed in her hand in another few seconds. He’d only just managed to wait till he was inside her before shattering like a kid with his first woman. He’d told himself abstinence was the cause, next time he’d be in control, yet he found himself wondering if he might come just from watching her sultry eyes devour him.
She swallowed convulsively and heat poured through him. He remembered that mouth like hot velvet on his aroused body, reducing him to gasping surrender. He wanted that again. He wanted—
Her eyes snared his and a wave of something crashed over him. Not just desire, but something deeper. Something he thought he’d banished.
‘Is that what you want?’ he snarled. ‘Someone else to relieve your … tension?’ When she said nothing he forced himself on, refusing to feel the pain of her rejection. ‘Maybe while you’re at it you could see if one of the women from this morning would like to do something about this—’ he gestured to his erection ‘—since you’re not interested.’
Poppy jerked her head away. Orsino’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t trust his damaged vision but he’d swear he caught the glitter of tears on her lashes.
‘Poppy?’ His voice was husky as he spoke over what felt like broken glass lining his throat.
She turned back and he realised she’d been biting her bottom lip. It was dark and swollen and he wanted to soothe it with his thumb.
‘All right. You win, Orsino. I admit it.’ Her voice was low. ‘It’s you I want, not just any man.’ She crossed the floor till they stood toe to toe and her hand found his chest again, making his heart judder. ‘Satisfied?’
Her chin tilted high as it always had when she was scared. Heat doused him as he realised it.
Poppy was scared?
That knowledge sliced through his anger, leaving him strangely hollow.
Orsino covered her hand with his, feeling it quiver like a wounded bird in his grasp.
‘Not yet.’ His voice had turned to gravel. ‘Because I need you so badly I can’t think straight. Not just any woman but you, Poppy. Just you.’
A last remnant of pride howled that he gave too much away, letting her know the power she wielded. But for once the urge for honesty overrode it.
‘Don’t cry, Poppy. It’s not just you feeling this. It’s me, too.’
‘Really?’ She blinked up at him and her eyes shone overbright, making him feel about ten inches tall for the way he’d behaved.
For so long he’d wanted her to suffer for what she’d done. Yet, seeing her distress, he realised he couldn’t face it.
‘It’s not the way I want it to be, either,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s the way it is. For now.’ He dragged in a deep breath. ‘I need you, Poppy. Just you.’