'She made her bed,' Alan said. 'Now she'll have to lie in it.'
His ruthless lack of pity and understanding fired Ebony's temper. 'What a rotten thing to say about your own sister! Don't you care that she's hurting?'
'Vicki will be thirty next birthday,' Alan returned mercilessly. 'She's had more Alistairs in her life than I have fingers and toes, all of whom she's been madly in love with, and all of whom have used her shamelessly. One would have hoped that she'd have grown up a little by now, and that her judgement of men would have improved.'
'It's hard to be analytical and logical when one's emotions are involved. Or don't you know anything about emotions, Alan?'
His smile was vaguely smug as he surveyed her high colour. Ebony recognised that this was what he'd been trying to do all night—provoke her into having an open altercation with him. Why, she wasn't sure. Bloody- mindedness, she supposed. And he'd succeeded.
Yet somehow she didn't care. She was going to have her say; she was going to tell him what she thought of him. It would probably be her last chance and it would do her soul good to get it all off her chest.
'No, you wouldn't. Not you!' She threw down her serviette and stood up. 'Why, you're no better than Vicki's Alistair. When have you ever given a woman love, or romance, or consideration? Do you even know what any of those things mean? I wonder now if you were ever in love with Adrianna Winslow, if you're capable of loving any woman. I've certainly never seen any evidence of it. Because loving someone means giving a little. All you can do is take, Alan!'
His laughter stunned her, as did his applause. 'Wonderful! You should be an actress, not a model. If I didn't know you better, I would almost think you meant some of that.'
She simply stared at him, feeling sick to her stomach. Had she ever loved this cruel, heartless man?
Slowly, he too rose to his feet, taking his time as he moved round behind his chair and scooped it in to the table. He stood behind it, his long, elegant fingers curled over the curved wooden back, his hard blue eyes narrowing with the most appallingly explicit desire as they roved over her body. Immediately, she felt that curl of answering desire within her, and was disgusted by it.
'If you touch me,' she said shakily, 'I'll scream this house down.'
'Will you?'
'Try me.'
She meant it; Alan could see that. It surprised then angered him. Who did she think she was, deciding when he could and could not touch her? She was his whenever he wanted her, damn it. Hadn't he proved that to her time and time again? God, but he was tired of her games, tired of the way she kept his desire dangling, just because it amused her perverse nature. Or was she still punishing him for having rejected her once?
Yes, that was probably it. No doubt he'd made a big mistake about her that night in the library. She hadn't been an innocent back then at all. She'd already been a little tramp, kissing him like that, using her Lolita talents to tempt him so severely that afterwards he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. Even now, after having had her countless times, he hadn't tired of her. One would have thought he would have been able to rid himself of this obsessive need by now. But it was stronger than ever.
'Perhaps I will,' he said in a low, threatening voice, and began walking towards her.
'Everyone finished in here?' Bob asked, his sudden appearance bringing a frustrated scowl to Alan's face and a shudder of relief from Ebony.
He'd been going to kiss her, she realised shakily. And she wouldn't have been able to do a thing about it. Bob's arrival had come just in the nick of time.
'Yes, Bob,' she said. 'It was all lovely.'
'It certainly was,' Alan agreed, having gathered himself quickly. 'Come, Ebony, we'll go and see what's become of Vicki and Mother. Then I'll see you home.'
When Ebony hesitated, Alan came forward, all smiles, taking her elbow and steering her none too gently from the dining-room and across the living area.
'Let me go,' she hissed, her efforts to dislodge her arm from his grip unsuccessful.
'Stop acting like a cantankerous child,' he hissed back. 'Do you want Bob to see you for what you really are?'
'Which is?'
'Well, certainly not the sweet little thing you've convinced my whole family you are!'