‘This is utter madness, but I can’t fight it any more,’ Alex muttered rawly. ‘These past weeks I’ve been going mad watching you, wanting you, knowing that your husband is waiting for you at home.’ His hands gripped her shoulders with bruising intensity as he fought an inward battle with himself, wanting to pull her close, but knowing that for sanity’s sake he should push her away.
‘He’s not…’ Jenna whispered. ‘My husband… He’s not at home…’
‘You mean you’ve rowed? He’s walked out on you? So what am I? The consolation prize?’
His fingers marked her skin, and she was sure her shoulders would break under the force of his grip. Her hands fell to her sides as she quailed beneath his contempt.
He stepped back from her and shook his head, sanity returning with a vengeance. ‘I will not take responsibility for problems within your marriage, Jenna, and I will not act as a sop for your bruised ego. If Chris has walked out on you then quite frankly I don’t blame him. You flirt with anything in trousers—look at your behaviour tonight with Seb. But if you’re on the look-out for a rich meal ticket you can count me out.’
Jenna was incandescent with fury. To think she had felt guilty for slapping him, she raged silently. Right now she would happily beat him senseless. ‘My husband hasn’t left me… At least he did, but… Oh, it’s all a muddle. How dare you accuse me of looking for a meal ticket? You kissed me; you made all the running.’
‘And you were my poor, defenceless victim?’ he mocked. ‘Why don’t we both be honest and admit that we fancy each other? Although a quick screw with my secretary has suddenly lost its appeal—you’ve got too much baggage.’ He had swung away from her, but as he pushed open the door to re-enter the party he paused. ‘One other thing—keep away from Seb. His life is enough of a mess as it is. He needs you like a hole in the head.’
Paris at night was a bustling mass of bright lights. At any other time Jenna would have been fascinated by the view from the window of the limousine that whisked them back to their hotel, but not tonight. Tonight she stared blankly ahead, determined not to be the one to break the icy silence, and beside her Alex seemed to share her intent. The tension between them was a tangible force.
The silence continued as they rode the lift up to the top floor of the hotel, and it took every inch of her will-power to keep from peeping in his direction, her fury palpable as she stalked ahead of him to the sanctuary of her room.
He was the most arrogant, conceited, infuriating man she had ever met, she fumed as she paced up and down her bedroom. How dared he imply that she had been flirting with Seb? Or, even worse, that she was actively hunting for a rich replacement husband? She hated him, she told herself, blinking back the sudden rush of tears. He hadn’t hidden his contempt for her even as he’d played havoc with her emotions when he had kissed her. He might desire her in the most basic way, but he despised himself for what he saw as his weakness, and he despised her more.
She should have been honest from the start, she thought miserably. She should never have lied about Lee. But she had been so embarrassed on that first day, when she had made her attraction to Alex so obvious, that allowing him to believe she was happily married had been her only way of saving face. She was tempted to storm into his room and tell him the truth now, but if she explained that she was divorced wouldn’t that just reinforce his belief that she was desperate for a rich meal ticket, as he had so delicately phrased it? Even worse, would he think she was available to sleep with him?
Her cheeks burned when she recalled the way she had melted with shameful eagerness in his arms. Her brain might dictate that she disliked him, but her body had a will of its own, and it was hungry for Alex Morrell. She wasn’t the type to indulge in a one-night stand, she accepted honestly, but Alex wasn’t offering anything else. Even if by some miracle he decided that he wanted a proper relationship with her, there was Maisie to consider, and she could just picture his horror if she turned up on a date with her small daughter in tow.
It was past midnight, but she was too wound up to sleep as she replayed Alex’s words over and over in her mind. His taunt that she was a bimbo really stung, and she glared at her reflection in the mirror, noting with disgust her flushed cheeks and the way the black dress clung to her curves, emphasising the fullness of her breasts and her slender waist. He had been the one to demand that she get dolled up, but when she had followed his instructions he had more or less accused her of being a tart.