She shivered in swift surrender as he pulled her roughly against him, and accepted the deep, bruising kiss that was both urgent and angry. When her eyes, heavy-lidded, flickered open he was watching her with raw, hot passion glittering feverishly in his blue eyes.
Technically, how did that rate?' he enquired, his voice slightly slurred and the sharp angle of his high cheekbones highlighted by a faint flush. He smiled with grim satisfaction as she gave a small moan in reply to his hand reaching beneath her shirt to locate unerringly the sensitised peak of one full breast. 'On a scale of one to ten, that is,' he continued casually, not pausing in his delicate exploration of her yielding body.
'Ask me again when I've more room for comparison,' she spat back, outrage at his callous ability to arouse her mingling with a compelling swell of sensuality.
His eyes narrowed to slits. 'Curtail this urge to experiment until I've finished with you,' he advised grimly.
It wasn't the arrogance of his words that made her grow still, it was the reminder of how impermanent his need for her was. He had virtually said he had every intention of discarding her; the marriage licence carrying tomorrow's date would only be legally bonding until the divorce. I already knew that, she reminded herself. Don't let it hurt…don't let him see.
'I think you'll find, Luke, I have something to say on the matter.' She'd escape before he tired of her, she swore silently to herself.
'What do you have to say then, Emmy?' he enquired with open contempt. Arms around her waist, he bodily hoisted her upwards until their hips were level, leaning forward until her back was against the wall.
Her head fell backwards as his teeth drew blood from the tender flesh of her lips. The feeling of surrender was washing over her in great tidal waves. In this position it was impossible to ignore the arousal of his body, and the slight friction between them was enough to make her feel weak with desire. Speak? She didn't feel she could breathe! Her lungs felt depleted of oxygen and her head was spinning. Did he have to illustrate so cruelly just how easily he could make her retract her impulsive words…how in charge he was while she was being whisked along, a victim of blind, relentless passion?
'Luke, the door,' Emily gasped as her brain registered the repeated, the strident peal.
'To hell with them,' he said huskily.
'I need to get dressed,' she reminded him, pulling away and catching the lapels of her robe together. The blue eyes, dark with smouldering passion, snapped with frustration.
'Wear the blue,' he threw over his shoulder as he padded barefoot into the open-plan living area. She instantly chose the green.
'My dear Luke, it's very naughty of you not to let me know you were here.' The silence combined with the voice made Emily tighten the sash around her waist and stalk into the living-room.
She paused, her mouth agape, to see an elegant blonde. Her long hair was sleekly drawn back to reveal a swan-like neck, and she had her arms around Luke. The clothes proclaimed their owner's financial and social status very clearly—a designer combination of classical tailoring and innovative, jewel-bright fabrics.
Emily made an inarticulate sound in her throat; rage swept through her like a tidal wave and the two came up for air.
'Won't you introduce us, Luke?' Blue eyes coldly skimmed Emily's dishevelled figure. 'I have to discover by accident---' the smile touched Luke and widened almost to encompass Emily '—that he is in London. I'm Luke's nearest neighbour in Scotland,' she explained, her fingers playfully running up and down Luke's forearm. 'Once in a while I check his place there hasn't totally collapsed when it's empty, and get major damage like gaping holes in the roof repaired. I thought, darling, we were doomed to pass like ships in the night. But you've been here all along.'
Emily smiled in a strained way. 'Luke must be very grateful,' she murmured drily.
'Luke can be an angel, can't he, if he can be bothered? The rest of the time he's hopeless. Don't you think?' The sly, laughing glance was intercepted by a unruffled Luke. A beautifully manicured hand was stretched out to Emily. 'I'm Beth Urquhart, as Luke has quite forgotten his manners. Call me Beth.'
Emily somewhat self-consciously accepted the pearly-nailed hand. 'I'm Emily Stapely.' She found herself emphasising her surname and casting Luke a half-challenging look from beneath the sweep of her lashes. I'm damned if I'm going to apologise to her, you, or anyone else for my name, the look said, and the flicker in his eyes told her the message had been received. She checked for signs of recognition on the other girl's face and detected none.
'Well, Emily, are you staying long with Luke, or is it just an afternoon visit?' The implication of the sordid and trivial nature of their liaison was masterly.
Luke stared passively at Emily's red face. 'Emily is aware of the ultimate privilege. She's living here.'