Her words infuriate me, but I smile politely. "Prove it."
She frowns. "What do you mean?"
I lift a shoulder casually. "Show me how much you don't want me."
She folds her hands in front of her. "Tell me how to and I'll do it."
"Come over here and kiss me," said the spider to the fly.
She recoils, actually recoils as if I really am a spider. Her back becomes ramrod straight, and when she speaks her voice is hard and violent with anger. "I was given the impression that everything had to be consensual."
I nod. "That's a pretty accurate impression."
Her shoulders almost sag with the relief that pours through her system. She takes a deep breath and prepares for a battle that she has already lost. "So I evoke my right to say no to such a repulsive request."
I lift the crystal stopper off the decanter, and pour myself a glass of cognac. "Are you sure I couldn't interest you in a glass of something?"
She shakes her head.
I lift the glass to my lips and take a sip. "So: let's see if I've got this right. Basically: your spineless husband has taken nearly half a million of my money and can't pay it back. Out of the goodness of my heart I told him he could lend you to me for a month in exchange. It seemed like a good idea to him. You obviously agreed. I drew up a contract and he promptly sent you to me, but now that you are here, you have decided not to … perform."
She swallows hard. It sounds bad put like that. "I'm just playing by the rules of the contract you wrote," she croaks.
"Perhaps I expected more … fair play from you."
"You expected fair play from me after you concocted such a sordid and unfair arrangement?"
"We all have our illusions," I say mildly.
She looks at me warily. "We have an impasse. What now?"
I shrug. "I guess, you can go home."
Her eyes widen. "Really?"
"Of course. I never say what I don't mean."
For a second she looks dumbfounded, then she starts babbling. "Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. I … I'm so sorry if I gave you the wrong impression at the restaurant. It was never my intention."
I take another sip. "No problem."
"Also I didn't mean it when I said kissing you would be repulsive."
"No?" The sound comes from deep inside my chest.
"No, of course not. I was just nervous. You're not repulsive at all. In fact, you're a very good looking man."
"That's good to know."
"Well." An unnatural laugh erupts from her mouth. "Well, I suppose, I better call a cab."
"No need. My driver can take you back," I tell her smoothly.
"Oh, that would be really kind of you. I'm really sorry that Nigel lost all that money in your club."
"Hmmm." Every time I hear his name come from her lips I want to smash something.
"Don't worry," she assures, her eyes huge, "he won't ever be back there again. I'll make sure of that. He's going to go into treatment. Gambling is an addiction, you know."
I watch her force herself to stop talking.
"Well, I guess, I better go look for your driver. I know the way out so I'll just … Once again, thank you. I'm really grateful to you." She starts moving towards the door. "Goodbye, Mr. Smirnov."
"Goodbye, Star. Don't forget to tell Nigel to be careful."
She stops in her tracks and turns around slowly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I walk across the long drawing room to a window at the far end and gaze out of it. One of the gardeners is tending to the hedges in the distance. They do a good job those men. I make my voice sound disinterested. "Well, obviously, I'll have to sell his debt on, and there is no telling how the buyer of the debt will decide to collect."
"You bastard," she snarls. "You did this on purpose."
I turn around and raise an eyebrow. "Did what?"
Her eyes glitter with hatred. I stare at her, surprised. She is even more beautiful than I thought, and something feral jerks inside me. I can't wait to make her submit to me. Tame her. Make her beg.
Make her mine.
"You made me believe that you were going to let me go," she accuses.
My gaze is steady. "I'm not stopping you. You're free to leave."
"How can I leave if you are going to sell the debt to another criminal?" she cries.
"I told you, Star. To completely cancel the contract and wipe out the debt you only have to do one thing."
"What's that?" she demands.
"All you have to do is prove that you don't want me."
"Don't want you? Does it look like I want you?"
"Prove it by kissing me."
"I hate you."
"Be careful, Star."
"Why?"
"Because of what's on the other side of the coin."
"Love?" She laughs harshly. "To start with I could never ever love someone like you. But even that is beside the point because I already love someone. My husband!"
"That's okay, little butterfly. I don't want your love. All I need from you is your lust."
"Are you deaf? I don't want you."
"So grit your teeth and kiss me, and you can return to the man you claim to love so much."
"How about I detest you so much it would make me sick to kiss you."
"So leave and let Nigel take his chances with another moneylender. See if he will be kinder. Perhaps you can grace his bed instead?"
She stands there glaring at me, her chest heaving.
I put my glass down. "Well, what's it to be? A kiss? Leave Nigel to the wolves? Or submit sexually to me for a month?"
She stands there shaking with emotion. "What? Just one kiss?"
"One kiss."
Chapter Sixteen
Star
His eyes betraying nothing but indifference. Yes, I'd like to use your body for a month, but it wouldn't bother me too much whether you stayed or went.
But my hands are shaking with terror.
Not fear of him, but of my own unnatural desire for him. It's the kind of craving I've never known before. Until now I never suspected there could be such a need for another human being. A stranger.
Of course, I love Nigel. I love him deeply. My love for him feels as warm and comfortable as an old blanket. Makes me safe. I know I can trust that love to last until I am grey and wrinkled.
What I feel for this cold-eyed monster is raw and dangerous. Even from where I am standing I can feel the waves of sexual tension coming from him. Like heat from the Mediterranean sun. Heating up my blood. Making me feel hot and strange.
One kiss?
I'm already hanging on to the edge of the cliff by my fingernails. Barely able to sustain the pretense that I find him repulsive. If I kiss him I will tumble away into the dark abyss waiting below, and everything will be lost. Everything. My plans. My lovely house. My garden. My birds. My yellow room. The stack of little romper suits with the shop tags still attached to them. I cannot sacrifice all that for this blind lust. I just cannot. The lust will die away, and I will be left with nothing.
I will have children with Nigel.
I will grow old with him.
I will not give that up for this worthless pleasure. Never.
I walk towards Nikolai and look him in the eye. "I will not kiss you. You are not my lover. You bought the use of my body for a month, and that's all you'll get from me."
"I accept," he says quietly.
My belly clenches with excitement. Have I just made my deal with the devil? I lift my chin proudly. "Now what?"
A slight movement twists those sensuous lips. I think of them on my body and I have to suppress a shiver of need.
"Now, we eat. I'm hungry."
"Well, I'm not hungry," I say, even though I've not eaten all day.
"Then you can watch me eat," he suggests coolly. His startling light eyes remain aloof and completely expressionless.
Unable to think of a single thing to say in reply I stare at his mouth.
"Perhaps you'd like to change first?"
"I won't bother."
He takes his cell out of his suit pocket, touches a couple of buttons on it, and says, "Send Celine in." He drops his phone back into his pocket. "Celine will take you to your room, show you how everything works, and help you to choose an outfit."
"I said, I didn't want to change for dinner," I say tightly.
His eyes gleam with a glimpse of something savage, but his voice is pleasant. "I think you'll find that we will get on much better if whilst you are here you remember never to question, or deny my wishes."
There is a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," he calls, not taking his eyes off me.
I drag my gaze away. A woman about my age is standing at the doorway. She smiles deferentially at us.
"Show Miss Minton to her room, please," he says without taking his eyes off me.
Three impressions hit me at once. The weirdness of being called Miss Minton after five years of being Mrs. Harrington. The feeling of unease that someone you did not even know existed until a few hours ago knows so much about you. And the irritation that he wouldn't acknowledge my marital status.