He stretched with casual elegance, the smooth motion making the robe gape even more, revealing a flat, muscled belly. Emily was mortified to find her eyes riveted on his body; her breath came in shallow gasps as she fought to combat a hectic, light-headed, drugged sensation that swept over her in waves.
What is happening to me? she wondered. She closed her eyes and tried to bring the turbulent, uncontrolled sensations under control. 'You must be tired. I'm sorry I disturbed you, but I'm fine now.' She was pleased at her pleasant, level tone, more polite than she habitually used with Luke but better than the semi-hysterical plea that had trembled on her tongue. Why didn't he just go away, leave her in peace? she thought resentfully.
'It would be no trouble to stay,' he responded after a short pause.
Startled, her eyes shot to his face. He had imbued the offer with a wealth of meaning which was startlingly obvious. The cerulean gaze was brimming with mocking laughter and a speculative warmth that she chose to ignore, clinging instead to the mortification that stiffened her spine and made her quiver.
He knew exactly what effect his presence was having on her, and it was probably providing him with a wealth of malignant amusement. To imagine that he wasn't accustomed to exploiting his spell-binding looks to his own advantage, for his own amusement, would have been unrealistic. She gave herself a fierce mental shake to stop the warm, sluggish feelings, and wrapped justified anger around her.
'I don't think even you would take a joke that far,' she sneered. 'Besides, I respect you far too much to allow you to be a substitute,' she insinuated silkily. She met his glittering stare, her chin at a defiant angle. For a brief, painful second she indulgently allowed herself to recall the kiss earlier. It was something she had deliberately sealed away, refusing to acknowledge, and the lingering sense of intimacy, of things awoken and unfinished savagely kicked into life, made her sure she had to forget the incident.
'Death before dishonour?' he suggested softly, laughing as she flinched away from the casual touch of his thumb against her throat. 'Or shall we say frustration?' he suggested silkily.
'I'm far too tired for riddles,' she spat back. Inwardly his effortless perception appalled her.
'I was merely offering the comfort of my presence should your night terrors return.'
'I'd need to be seriously disturbed to accept comfort from someone incapable of distinguishing between affection and lust!' she retorted, her anger equally dividing between herself for being receptive at the worst moment possible to Luke's challenging sexuality, and him for enjoying it and not even having the common decency to disguise the fact.
'At least I've never been prepared to accept the former as a basis for marriage,' he responded with an edge of impatient contempt.
She went white and her fingers lost their grip on the sleeping-bag. 'How dare you?' she breathed wrathfully.
'Easily,' he replied casually. He reached out and hitched up the sleeping-bag to cover her half-exposed breasts. 'You really shouldn't flaunt the goods if they're not on the market,' he admonished crudely, with a scorn that made her flinch even more than the brief instant of contact as his knuckles had brushed her skin.
'Now that I'm here—a purely temporary situation— I'd like to emphasise that this…arrangement is one of convenience only.'
His eyebrows shot up and he gave a mirthless grin. 'How much more convenient could you require?'
'If you think I could find it anything other than repugnant to sleep with you, you're even more egotistically deluded than I had imagined!' she snapped back. She couldn't be sure whether he was pursuing this absurd avenue just to enjoy watching her squirm, or whether…and the idea made the pit of her belly disintegrate, leaving a warm, empty nothingness which ached dully. He wasn't actually serious…he couldn't be. Perhaps, she thought, her mind spinning, he was the sort of man who felt obliged to explore every avenue of conquest almost out of habit.
'Is that a fact?' he taunted, his eyes sardonic on her flushed face.
Emily felt as if guilt was written all over her face. She'd been engaged for over eight months to Gavin and never in all that time had she had any trouble resisting his attempts to become her lover. He'd seemed inclined to make a big thing of her desire to wait, not anticipate their marriage vows. If she could show restraint, she hadn't understood why he couldn't follow suit. She'd imagined their relationship had been based on more than a fleeting physical attraction, but then she'd thought a lot of things that had proved to be untrue.
Now here she was experiencing some sort of hormonal redress for her years of abstinence, and the catalyst was Luke, of all people. She could imagine the cynical amusement if he ever realised just how impoverished sexually her life had been. The feeling of horror eclipsed all other sensations as she dwelt on this prospect. No, she would preserve what little dignity she had—at least in front of her provoking saviour. After all, how hard could it be to subdue a bit of juvenile, sweaty-skinned pulse-racing? She had once before. She wasn't the sort of person who was a victim of her appetites. More importantly, she was no longer a wide-eyed teenager; she was a mature, sensible woman.