Wildstar

"Yes, I used you! Which is exactly what you did with me—used me to save your mine."

"No, it wasn't the same! I was honest with you from the start, but you . . . You're lower than a rattlesnake. At least a rattler gives a warning before it strikes."

Devlin clenched his fists to keep from hitting some­thing. He couldn't ever remember being so livid. "So help me God, if you weren't a woman . . ." he said through his teeth.

Jess regarded him with loathing, her own fists balled in determination. "If you won't leave on your own, I'll get a gun and make you!"

She started to march past him, but his arm shot out and stopped her, lightning quick and hard. His eyes were like flint as his fingers dug into the soft flesh above her elbow.

"Let go of me!" she exclaimed, trying to break free of his grip.

The hot rise of desire within Devlin was swift and sud­den. I shouldn't have touched her, was his abrupt thought. Touching her only made him recall too vividly what he should never have known about Jess, only brought to mind forbidden memories of taut silky breasts . . . velvet warm skin . . . a lush, supple body. . . .

Devlin swore viciously under his breath. He'd promised himself he would keep away from her, that he wouldn't give in to his need to have her, to hold her. He'd been eaten up with guilt for two days, ever since the dark night when she'd exchanged her innocence for the simple hu­man comfort the act of mating could bring her. But now . . . anger and arousal made his blood surge hot, his body harden.

When Jess started to struggle, he gripped both her arms, wanting to shake some sense into her, wanting to make love to her again. Dammit, but this stubborn, beautiful hellcat aroused so many emotions in him—he'd never felt so many conflicting desires for a woman. He wanted to protect as well as to take. He felt the urge to throttle her at the same time he ached to bury himself so deeply inside her that he wouldn't know where either of them began or ended.

"Let—me—go!" Jess was half shouting, half sputtering, her golden eyes blazing with fire. "I don't want anything to do with you, you bastard! You lied to me and used me! You made love to me under false pretenses! I would never have let you touch me if I'd known what kind of man you are. You're the one who owes me the apology!"

That last charge cut more deeply than even her accusa­tions of lying and betrayal. "The hell I do!" Devlin shot back, his voice icy with fury. "I won't apologize for being rich. I've worked hard for everything I own. I won't apol­ogize for using you to find a gang of vicious killers! You were my best lead—and you got more than your money's worth in return for my services. Guarding your mine nearly got me killed. And I damn sure won't apologize for making love to you! You wanted it as much as I did. In fact, I recollect you begging me to take you."

"I did not!" Jess said fiercely, totally shamed by the truth.

"You did! You begged me to teach you about passion— and you're lying to yourself if you remember otherwise."

"No . . ."

All the while he'd been impelling her slowly backward across the small room. He stopped when he could go no farther, when they reached the pine bureau. Jess found her back pressed painfully against the upper edge of the chest, with Devlin crowding her in front, his hard thighs brush­ing up against her skirts. She winced and tried to shrink away. She didn't want him touching her. She'd been be­trayed by him, even if it wasn't the kind of betrayal she had first thought.

But he wouldn't release her. He wouldn't even let her avoid his gaze. He was towering over her, his sculpted face hard with fury. She saw the fierce light moving in his eyes, in the storm-gray irises, and for the first time since meeting him, she felt a twinge of real fear. She didn't know this ruthless stranger, this dangerous man. But then she never had. The tender, caring lover she remembered from the mine had been nothing more than a figment of her distraught imagination.

Certainly there was no tenderness in him as his rough mouth crashed down on hers. The room reeled; the sudden dark seizure of his kiss made Jess's head spin. She tried to cry out. but Devlin lifted her hard into his kiss, smothering her angry protests.

Her fists doubled against his chest, trying to push him away, but his fingers clamped onto her chin and held it so he could enter her mouth with his tongue. He was pun­ishing her, satisfying his anger, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth to overwhelm any resistance. The hard sen­sual caress was detached, brutally lustful, the savage pres­sure subduing her, making her open wide for him.

She struggled, twisting and heaving, but he used his body to crush her up against the bureau. She couldn't move. Her mouth was filled with the hot searching stab of his tongue, her nostrils filled with his heat, his scent. She couldn't breathe. He assaulted her senses, pinning her with the length of his masculine frame, cradling her pelvis against the hard ridge of his manhood. All the feminine parts of her body so recently sensitized to his touch sud­denly awakened to throbbing, pulsing life.

His mouth was still eating hers feverishly

when she felt his rough hands in her hair, searching, pulling the pins out, tossing each one aside, finally loosening the tawny mass. Catching a silken skein, he tangled his fingers in it and held her still. When he lifted his head, his gray eyes were fierce.

Jess dragged a ragged breath of air into her lungs.

Then his free hand reached for the top button of her bodice and her eyes widened in shocked comprehension.

"No . . ." she repeated in a shaking voice.

"Yes, angel." The button tore free and clattered to the floor, making her gasp.

"What are you doing!" Jess squirmed, but the vise of his hand held her head still, his muscular thighs pressing hard against hers, while his fingers continued their pur­poseful work.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he retorted, his voice going even lower and rougher. "I'm taking off your clothes." He finished with the fastenings on her basque bodice, and with uncompromising expertise, started on the small buttons of her camisole. "You wanted to know what you've been missing. I'm going to show you right now. That first time, I was gentle. Now I'm going to take you hard and fast, then real, real slow."

His gravelly voice held none of the teasing seduction he used with other women, none of the smooth sophistication or devastating charm Jess had come to know. "I'm going to make you feel so much you won't know your fingers from your toes. I'm going to make love to you, sweet­heart."

"No, don't!" she protested, her heart starting to pound at his threat. "I don't want anything to do with you!"

"You do so, Jess. You want me."