The malice didn't bother her, nor did the sideways, satisfied look. Louis could be as sarcastic as he liked, make what fun he liked, he didn't bother her at all. She was over him, he meant nothing to her now, but she was annoyed with Leo. She knew her editor and his childish glee when he made the cauldron bubble, and that was, as Louis had just said, undoubtedly what he had hoped to do by sending Louis here. He wanted to stir up a storm, create a dramatic story for the paper. Cass had only wanted the media to swallow what he handed them; Leo was ruthless. He wanted to plant his own story with the ingredients he chose. He was quite cheerful about using her; like Cass! Were all men like that? Well, this time neither Cass nor Leo was doing it to her, not if she could stop it.
'Never mind what Leo wants, you aren't stopping,' she told Louis.
He raised his brows. 'I'm not getting orders, am I, darling? Because I don't take orders from my women.'
'I'm not one of your women, Louis, not any more.' She thought about it, then added angrily, 'And I never was!'
Maybe that was a tactical mistake, because his face darkened and he took on that familiar look of petulance. She had wounded his male pride, his precious ego.
'Weren't you, then?' he asked, and she tried to get up hurriedly, alarmed by his expression, but he reached up and caught her waist and yanked her backwards over his lap. She couldn't stop herself falling. He started kissing her hard while she was still off balance, her head back
over the iron armrest, her blonde hair spilling into the long grass. Sian fought him furiously, biting his lower lip until he gave a cry of rage and pain, his head shooting up.
'You little bitch!'
He fingered his mouth, which was bleeding. 'Blood,' he said, stupefied by the sight of it on his finger. 'Look what you did!'
Sian couldn't stay angry in the face of that incredulous, injured expression. She began to giggle.
That was when they both heard a rustling, the crack of a twig underfoot. Louis hurriedly looked across the clearing and went a funny shade of puce.
The next minute Sian was on the ground and rolling away, and Louis was on his feet, running. Sian scrambled up, ruefully rubbing her behind, laughing, but her laughter stopped as she looked up into Cass's face. It was leaping with black rage and there was no humour in it anywhere.
CHAPTER TEN
'So it isn't over, after all?' Cass's voice was congested, thick with rage or something else, and Sian stood there, staring at him, her nerves prickling as if she were in some sort of danger.
'Yes, it is,' she began.
'Don't lie to me!' he suddenly yelled.
She almost jumped out of her skin, and then grew angry too. 'Don't you shout at me!' she yelled back.
'I don't like being lied to!' he muttered, coming a step nearer. 'You told me last time we saw him that he was just an old flame—but obviously he's still burning.'
She sighed, shaking her head. 'Look, this is none of your business, but I was telling the truth—there's nothing between me and Louis any more.'
'No?' he sneered. 'Is that why I saw you sprawling all over him? And the two of you had been making love. Don't tell me you hadn't, because your lipstick is smudged to hell, and I saw it on his mouth.' His own mouth twisted in distaste and his eyes were contemptuous. Sian winced, hurt by that look, but then wondered why she should put up with having him talk to her, look at her, like that!
'What right do you think you have…' she began, but he talked on over her.
'And I'd like to know how he got in here; there are supposed to be security men on the gate. I'll have a few sharp words to say to them later! This is private property.'
'And so am I!' Sian said furiously, very red. 'My own property—nobody else's! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like this?' He stood there, listening, watching her with an odd, uncertain, almost puzzled look on his face, and she shouted at him, 'I don't have to explain myself to you, Mr William Cassidy, and I won't put up with being bullied.'
'Why did you lie to me? That's all I want to know,' Cass muttered, glaring down at her.
'I didn't.' He was much too close. He was making her light-headed merely by standing there, those grey eyes brilliant, that mouth pure temptation.
'I suppose you're telling me that there's something wrong with my eyesight! That I didn't see you lying across him, that he didn't have your lipstick on his mouth!' He had calmed down a fraction, but only because he had turned icy, his tone biting with sarcasm, and she curled her hands into fists, wishing she dared hit him, but afraid to take the risk because Cass was capable of hitting her back, and in this mood she thought he probably would!
'He grabbed me,' she admitted brusquely, 'I didn't want him to!'
Cass laughed; well, it was supposed to be laughter, but it sounded pretty unamused, a harsh bark of disbelief.
'Oh, of course!'
'And it wasn't my lipstick on his mouth—it was blood. His, where I bit him when he tried to kiss me!'