A Kiss To Remember

‘Both,’ she bit out.

His gaze narrowed on her, his brilliant and deceptively intelligent eyes darkening to a deep thoughtfulness. ‘Good,’ he said at last, in an oddly satisfied voice.

‘What’s good about it?’

‘Not all that much, I guess. Come on,’ he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her along the hall. ‘Let’s go downstairs and dance.’

Outrage had her wrenching her hand out of his and grinding to a halt. ‘Just like that? You expect me to go downstairs and dance with you after you insulted me?’

His mouth broke into one of those old smiles of his, dazzling and totally disarming. ‘Hell, Angie, you’ve been insulting me ever since I got here. What’s a few insults among friends? Besides, I don’t think what I said was an insult. I rather like females of easy virtue. Saves a chap a hell of a lot of lies.’

‘Oh, you—’ He shut her up with another kiss. A lightly teasing brush of lips which evoked a soft little moan of despair mixed with delight. ‘You’re wicked,’ she whispered shakily.

‘And you’re gorgeous,’ he drawled, his eyes narrowing sexily as he picked up one of the long curling strands of hair that covered her appallingly peaked nipple and drew it slowly between her lips.

A wild heat flooded those lips, and then her limbs. Weak with desire, she reached out to grip his shoulder, her lips falling apart as she unconsciously pulled him closer.

‘Later, I think, sweet Angie,’ he murmured, withdrawing the lock of hair and smoothing it down back over her breast, brushing over the pained peak as he did so. ‘I have an aversion to starting anything I can’t finish, and I have a feeling that brother of yours might shortly make an appearance.’

Angie’s nostrils flared as she sucked in another indignant breath. ‘And I have an aversion to men who make arrogant presumptions,’ she flung back at him. ‘I’m not as free and easy with my favours as you think, Lance.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘How interesting...’

‘Not really. You like your females easy, remember?’

‘Usually. But for you, my sweet Angie, I’d be prepared to make an exception.’

‘Stop calling me that!’ she snapped. ‘I’m not your sweet Angie any more. I’m not your Angie in any way, shape or form. I despise you, Lance, and all men like you. You wreak havoc wherever you go. You smile and you laugh and you dazzle, but you’re all show and no substance. You come here tonight and try to seduce me within five minutes of landing, while your poor wife is probably crying her eyes out back in Melbourne.’

‘I doubt that,’ Lance snarled, all the dazzle gone from his face. ‘I doubt that very much. Far from crying, Helen is probably at this very moment bonking her head off with her current lover.’

CHAPTER FIVE

FOR a second Angie was stunned, sympathy sweeping in for the angry man standing before her. Till the truth sank into her addled brain. Then sympathy turned to sarcasm. ‘So she’d finally had enough, had she? Gave you back some of your own medicine.’

Lance simply stared at her. ‘You’re incredible, do you know that? You really think I’m a cross between Casanova and Bluebeard, don’t you?’

‘You can stop at Casanova,’ she said drily. ‘Murder is not your style. You’re a lot of things, Lance, but violent is not one of them.’

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ he muttered darkly. ‘I can think of someone I’d like to strangle at this very moment.’

‘Really?’ she mocked. ‘Yet only a moment ago you wanted to dance with me?’

His glare was savage, his eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Who said I was talking about you?’ he ground out. ‘Let’s go, lover.’

Any protest at this last tag was obliterated when Lance roughly repossessed her hand and hauled her downstairs. Neither did she object when he dragged her into a room where dance music was playing, and yanked her hard against him.

Their mutual anger lent a perverse edge to the unwanted desire that was still pulsating through Angie’s veins. Soon, the throbbing beat of the music plus the heat of Lance’s skin had her senses all awhirl, any common sense routed. Stupidly, she wound her arms up around his neck and sank against the body she’d always coveted, the body of the man she’d always loved.