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Authors: Kate Walker
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at my disposal?’
‘Because I live here!’
‘But it’s my house,’ he reminded her, with a deadly emphasis on that ‘my’. ‘And, that being the case, I have every right to stay here whenever I choose. And there are another five bedrooms to choose from. It’s not as if I’m suggesting that I share your bed.’
‘Over my dead body! I do have some pride!’
Her defiant retort wiped the tolerant look from his face in a second, replacing it once again with the mask of cold black fury that made her quail inwardly in fearful distress.
‘And so do I!’ he snarled savagely. ‘Which is why the first thing that I’m going to do when I get to my room is have a long, hot shower.’
He gave a faint, but definite shudder, a grimace of distaste crossing his strongly carved features.
‘I don’t know about you but I feel distinctly grubby.’
Then, just in case she hadn’t quite got the point he was trying to make, he turned those deep ebony eyes on the bed once more before lifting them to look her straight in the face.
‘I think it will take me quite a while to feel clean again.’
And while Sarah was still gasping in shock and horrified disbelief, unable to find a single word to throw at him, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, letting the door slam shut emphatically behind him.
‘Ohhhhh!’
With a scream of pure frustration, Sarah flung the last remaining pillow after him, needing to express her pain and anger in some physical way. She managed to retain what was left of her control only for as long as it took for the cushion to land against the wood with a soft, dull thud and tumble softly to the floor, but then all her strength left her. Throwing herself down onto the bed, she pummelled the mattress over and over again with her fists, wishing with all her heart that it was Damon’s cold, uncaring face, thehard wall of his chest that was feeling the force of her blows.
‘I hate him!’ she muttered fiercely, timing each word to the pounding of her fists. ‘I hate, hate, hate him!’
But even as she vented the words, willing herself to believe them, she knew that they were only in her mind. That her heart knew the truth.
And in that truth was the seed of real despair.
Because even now, even hating him for the foul insults he had tossed at her, for his hypocrisy in calling her un-discriminating, with the implication that he believed she was promiscuous, for the way he had seduced her quite callously and unfeelingly, she still couldn’t deny the way she felt about him. She might detest him, but she also loved him desperately. He was as essential to her as the air she breathed, the beat of her heart, to keep her alive. And he always would be.
And as she admitted that to herself, the cleansing rush of anger waned, and in its place was a terrible sense of dread of what the future might hold.
How was she ever going to survive even the next few hours—never mind the possibility of days —with Damon actually living in the same house?
CHAPTER FOUR
I T WAS a terrible struggle for Sarah to get out of bed the next morning.
Not because she had slept heavily. In fact she had hardly slept at all, but had spent most of the night lying wide awake and staring at the ceiling, wondering just what she was going to do. But by the time that dawn came around, and then each hour that passed after it, she was nowhere nearer to coming to any conclusions, and she was most definitely not ready to start the day.
Not with Damon living in the house and determined to stay there, no matter what she said or did.
Any foolish hopes she might have had that he had changed his mind, packed and left during the night, were cruelly dashed in the moments that she heard, dimly through the walls, the sound of his shower working. She was only able to listen to the murmur of the water for a few moments before the rush of memories it brought had her burying her head under the pillows to try and shut it out.
But even then
‘Because I live here!’
‘But it’s my house,’ he reminded her, with a deadly emphasis on that ‘my’. ‘And, that being the case, I have every right to stay here whenever I choose. And there are another five bedrooms to choose from. It’s not as if I’m suggesting that I share your bed.’
‘Over my dead body! I do have some pride!’
Her defiant retort wiped the tolerant look from his face in a second, replacing it once again with the mask of cold black fury that made her quail inwardly in fearful distress.
‘And so do I!’ he snarled savagely. ‘Which is why the first thing that I’m going to do when I get to my room is have a long, hot shower.’
He gave a faint, but definite shudder, a grimace of distaste crossing his strongly carved features.
‘I don’t know about you but I feel distinctly grubby.’
Then, just in case she hadn’t quite got the point he was trying to make, he turned those deep ebony eyes on the bed once more before lifting them to look her straight in the face.
‘I think it will take me quite a while to feel clean again.’
And while Sarah was still gasping in shock and horrified disbelief, unable to find a single word to throw at him, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, letting the door slam shut emphatically behind him.
‘Ohhhhh!’
With a scream of pure frustration, Sarah flung the last remaining pillow after him, needing to express her pain and anger in some physical way. She managed to retain what was left of her control only for as long as it took for the cushion to land against the wood with a soft, dull thud and tumble softly to the floor, but then all her strength left her. Throwing herself down onto the bed, she pummelled the mattress over and over again with her fists, wishing with all her heart that it was Damon’s cold, uncaring face, thehard wall of his chest that was feeling the force of her blows.
‘I hate him!’ she muttered fiercely, timing each word to the pounding of her fists. ‘I hate, hate, hate him!’
But even as she vented the words, willing herself to believe them, she knew that they were only in her mind. That her heart knew the truth.
And in that truth was the seed of real despair.
Because even now, even hating him for the foul insults he had tossed at her, for his hypocrisy in calling her un-discriminating, with the implication that he believed she was promiscuous, for the way he had seduced her quite callously and unfeelingly, she still couldn’t deny the way she felt about him. She might detest him, but she also loved him desperately. He was as essential to her as the air she breathed, the beat of her heart, to keep her alive. And he always would be.
And as she admitted that to herself, the cleansing rush of anger waned, and in its place was a terrible sense of dread of what the future might hold.
How was she ever going to survive even the next few hours—never mind the possibility of days —with Damon actually living in the same house?
CHAPTER FOUR
I T WAS a terrible struggle for Sarah to get out of bed the next morning.
Not because she had slept heavily. In fact she had hardly slept at all, but had spent most of the night lying wide awake and staring at the ceiling, wondering just what she was going to do. But by the time that dawn came around, and then each hour that passed after it, she was nowhere nearer to coming to any conclusions, and she was most definitely not ready to start the day.
Not with Damon living in the house and determined to stay there, no matter what she said or did.
Any foolish hopes she might have had that he had changed his mind, packed and left during the night, were cruelly dashed in the moments that she heard, dimly through the walls, the sound of his shower working. She was only able to listen to the murmur of the water for a few moments before the rush of memories it brought had her burying her head under the pillows to try and shut it out.
But even then
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