not playing along, do you understand? Why, I ... I don't even
like you, do you understand that you . . . you arrogant bas - '
'Swearing does not become a woman,' he interrupted her; and now, to her
horror, he had turned his body so that she was well and truly trapped; his
fingers closed over one bare shoulder, forcing a gasp of sheer terror from her
before he said slowly and with deceptive softness: 'And what has liking got to
do with this?'
This was nothing like the kiss that Garon Hunt had given her. The kiss
of this dark stranger did not give, it took — and took - and took. Sara could
feel her mind spinning — swirling spirals that took her away from herself while
her body seemed to melt and was incapable of resistance.
Fingers warmly caressed the back of her neck and moved alongside her
face to tilt it up to his. And all the while he held her mouth captive; first
harshly ravaging, like a barbarian conqueror, forcing her lips to part for him;
and then, as if he had sensed her surrender he took time to be almost tender,
kissing the corner of her trembling mouth, going back to cover her lips
possessively with his.
It was only when his hands moved down to touch her breasts - seeming to
burn through the thin silk of her dress - that Sara recovered some semblance of
sanity.
She felt as if she had been drugged, as if even her voice didn't belong
to herself any longer.
'No - don't! Please don't!'
'Delight... cara. You see how much we want each other?
Let's go upstairs quickly — you're right, this is too public a place for
making love.'
His words shocked her back to reality; her eyes, half closed and
unfocused blinked into sharp awareness that they were parked in front of her
apartment house. And that he had called her 'Delight'!
'Cara . . . come.'
She was shaking all over - she had dropped her purse and had to grope
for it, thankful that that small action hid her turmoil from him.
'No! And please don't . . . touch me again,' She had to keep talking, to
keep him at bay, and her words stumbled and jostled against one another while
she fought for control. 'So you proved whatever it was you wanted to prove -
that.,. there's a certain physical chemistry between us. But honestly — one
kiss and you expect me to take you to bed? I'm just not. . . that free and
easy. And I don't go for one-night stands.''
She didn't know, not knowing him, what she could expect. Rage? Bitter,
caustic words? She didn't at this point, really care - needing only to get away
from him and his . overpowering closeness. Her lips still burned from the force
of his kisses and her nipples felt hard and swollen from the caress of his
fingers.
While Sara held her breath with terrified anticipation she tried to read
some expression on his shadowed face. Why didn't he say something?
Surprisingly — annoyingly — his voice sounded quite calm; politely
regretful, nothing else. 'That's so? Well -then I'm sorry. Although I must
admit that now ... there is still the anticipation of what might yet be between
us - yes?'
Without giving her a chance to respond he had already opened the door on
his side and was walking around to let her out with long, impatient strides
that made Sara feel, a sudden jab of irritation, that his try at seduction had
been merely perfunctory and now he was bored and anxious to be rid of her.
'Good night.'
He saw her into the lobby and as
far as the elevators. She imagined that his eyes dwelt, for an instant, on her
mouth, but the next instant they were hooded and unreadable.
'Good night!' she said brightly. 'Thank you for dinner.'
"You made it a very interesting evening.'
Sara was left alone to ponder on those words when the elevator doors
slid shut. Riccardo had already turned away.
Chapter 7
By the time Sara was able to fall asleep she had noticed the almost
imperceptible lightening of the night sky that always presaged dawn. She had
done everything she could think of to compose herself for sleep - made
like you, do you understand that you . . . you arrogant bas - '
'Swearing does not become a woman,' he interrupted her; and now, to her
horror, he had turned his body so that she was well and truly trapped; his
fingers closed over one bare shoulder, forcing a gasp of sheer terror from her
before he said slowly and with deceptive softness: 'And what has liking got to
do with this?'
This was nothing like the kiss that Garon Hunt had given her. The kiss
of this dark stranger did not give, it took — and took - and took. Sara could
feel her mind spinning — swirling spirals that took her away from herself while
her body seemed to melt and was incapable of resistance.
Fingers warmly caressed the back of her neck and moved alongside her
face to tilt it up to his. And all the while he held her mouth captive; first
harshly ravaging, like a barbarian conqueror, forcing her lips to part for him;
and then, as if he had sensed her surrender he took time to be almost tender,
kissing the corner of her trembling mouth, going back to cover her lips
possessively with his.
It was only when his hands moved down to touch her breasts - seeming to
burn through the thin silk of her dress - that Sara recovered some semblance of
sanity.
She felt as if she had been drugged, as if even her voice didn't belong
to herself any longer.
'No - don't! Please don't!'
'Delight... cara. You see how much we want each other?
Let's go upstairs quickly — you're right, this is too public a place for
making love.'
His words shocked her back to reality; her eyes, half closed and
unfocused blinked into sharp awareness that they were parked in front of her
apartment house. And that he had called her 'Delight'!
'Cara . . . come.'
She was shaking all over - she had dropped her purse and had to grope
for it, thankful that that small action hid her turmoil from him.
'No! And please don't . . . touch me again,' She had to keep talking, to
keep him at bay, and her words stumbled and jostled against one another while
she fought for control. 'So you proved whatever it was you wanted to prove -
that.,. there's a certain physical chemistry between us. But honestly — one
kiss and you expect me to take you to bed? I'm just not. . . that free and
easy. And I don't go for one-night stands.''
She didn't know, not knowing him, what she could expect. Rage? Bitter,
caustic words? She didn't at this point, really care - needing only to get away
from him and his . overpowering closeness. Her lips still burned from the force
of his kisses and her nipples felt hard and swollen from the caress of his
fingers.
While Sara held her breath with terrified anticipation she tried to read
some expression on his shadowed face. Why didn't he say something?
Surprisingly — annoyingly — his voice sounded quite calm; politely
regretful, nothing else. 'That's so? Well -then I'm sorry. Although I must
admit that now ... there is still the anticipation of what might yet be between
us - yes?'
Without giving her a chance to respond he had already opened the door on
his side and was walking around to let her out with long, impatient strides
that made Sara feel, a sudden jab of irritation, that his try at seduction had
been merely perfunctory and now he was bored and anxious to be rid of her.
'Good night.'
He saw her into the lobby and as
far as the elevators. She imagined that his eyes dwelt, for an instant, on her
mouth, but the next instant they were hooded and unreadable.
'Good night!' she said brightly. 'Thank you for dinner.'
"You made it a very interesting evening.'
Sara was left alone to ponder on those words when the elevator doors
slid shut. Riccardo had already turned away.
Chapter 7
By the time Sara was able to fall asleep she had noticed the almost
imperceptible lightening of the night sky that always presaged dawn. She had
done everything she could think of to compose herself for sleep - made
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