Kingfisher Morning - Page 44

'Guy meant it,' she said angrily. 'Just because all men are not the hard-headed, cold-hearted brutes you are…'

He was very pale now, his eyes tight points of steely light which pierced her, his jaw projecting furiously in rage. 'Go on, say what you've wanted to say for weeks! Do you imagine I don't know your opinion of me?'

Emma stared, shaken, breathless. 'What?'

'I am well aware how you feel about me,' he said icily.

She was now as white as he was, her whole body shaking. He knew? Horror made her wince in disbelief. She couldn't bear it, she could not bear to contemplate the idea that Ross knew she loved him, that it irritated him and made him despise her.

He caught her shoulders and shook her. 'Don't you turn away from me with that face! Look at me!'

She twisted in his grip, struggling to break away, terrified of the probing grey eyes.

'Let me go! You're hurting me…'

'Don't tempt me,' he said nastily. 'You don't know how much I'd like to! A good hard slap might bring you to your senses. I knew you were an idiot, but I didn't realise how big an idiot you were until now.'

'Have you quarrelled with Amanda again?' she demanded, shaken and puzzled by his anger. Surely it could not be directed at her? It must have been aroused by something else, and now he was expending upon her the rage he felt towards someone he dared not attack.

'Amanda!' The snort was almost violent. 'Don't try to sidetrack me.'

'I'm trying to find out what's put you in this nasty mood,' she said patiently.

He looked down at her, brows dark, mouth curling scornfully. 'As if you didn't know!'

Wide-eyed, she shook her head. 'I think you're punishing me because of something Amanda has done, but I tell you now, I will not put up with it. You're not manhandling me every time you feel like it!'

'Aren't I?' His voice was suddenly dangerously soft. His hands closed on her upper arms, pinching the flesh as he bent her slightly backwards. For a flashing second she felt a wave of disbelief, alarm, weakness, as his face came near

er, his eyes narrowed. Then his mouth covered hers, his lips hard and demanding, seeking and seizing an unwilling yet ardent response from her. She couldn't think. She could only feel, and feel a pleasure that was almost entirely pain.

This kiss was not meant for her—it belonged to Amanda. Ross was still punishing her as a substitute for the girl he loved, and the kiss which might, in other happier circumstances, have been a stinging joy was now only humiliation and grief. Yet she could not pretend to herself that she did not enjoy it. Her traitorous body awoke to life under his touch. Her mouth quivered with heat and pleasure.

Taking a stern grip upon herself, she pulled back from the brink of oblivion, and made herself struggle, slapping Ross hard with her open palm as his head drew away.

'Don't ever do that again!' she gasped.

He released her and stepped back, one finger tracing the red mark where she had slapped him. A curious little smile quirked his mouth. 'I wouldn't like to meet you in a dark alley,' he murmured. 'You have muscles I didn't suspect!'

She did not answer. Her heart was still performing a strange somersault.

Ross shoved his hands into his pockets. 'Well,' he said quietly, 'shall we go in and be hospitable towards your friend? Do you want to put him up for the night? He could share my room.'

She smiled politely. 'That's very kind of you, but he and Fanny will be going back to Dorchester.'

Ross stared down at her. 'Fanny?'

'Yes, my flatmate—I told you about her and Guy. Don't you remember? Well, they drove down to tell me that they're getting married and want me to be their bridesmaid.' She smiled again. 'Isn't that marvellous?'

'Marvellous!' he said in a still, quiet voice.

'I shall make my own dress, but even so they haven't given me much time. They're leaving for Canada, you see, as soon as they're married—they only have a few more weeks in this country. Guy's got a job over there.'

'And they've asked you to be bridesmaid?' Ross looked at her sharply. 'You ought to be crying, not babbling enthusiastically. Asking you that is a piece of crass insensitivity!'

She flushed. 'You forget, they don't know… they must never even suspect…that I once imagined I was in love with Guy.'

'Imagined?' His voice was wry. 'I saw your face when he was talking to you just now, remember.'

Tags: Charlotte Lamb Billionaire Romance
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