Kitabı oku: «Regency Society Collection Part 2», sayfa 47

The modest cut of her gowns had not gone unnoticed by Alex, and, sensing her reluctance to expose herself—as other women delighted in doing—had something to do with her past, he had tactfully not mentioned it. ‘Then why did you choose to do so tonight?’

‘For no other reason than that I thought the gown would look nice on me.’ His blunt criticism of her beautiful gown caught her between hurt and the urge to kick him in the shin.

When Alex saw the disappointment in her eyes, her pursed lips and angry frown, some of his imperious expression began to waver. ‘What made you decide to come to the party?’

‘I simply wanted to sample a little enjoyment myself, that is all. Unfortunately, by the time I decided, you’d already left for your club. I did not think you would mind if I came alone—and I foolishly believed you would be pleased to see me,’ she said quietly, pulling back an inch, her eyes unwavering as she met his gaze. ‘I also thought you would like my dress.’

‘I would like it a lot more if there was more of it,’ he said drily.

‘If you insist on being disagreeable for the entire evening, Alex, when the dance has finished I suggest you return to your friends and let me reacquaint myself with some of the ladies I recognised when I came in.’

His arm tightened around her, drawing her closer to his chest. ‘Not a chance,’ he said, his lips close to her ear. ‘Until it is time for us to leave you will remain cleaved to my side.’ His mood softened. It felt good to hold her again, to have her close, to smell the elusive scent of her flesh. A slow, lazy smile spread across his features as he gazed down at her alluring face, and when he spoke his voice was low and seductive.

‘I am pleased that you decided to come, Angel, and, despite the fact that it displays your charms with a wantonness I and every other man present find hard to resist, I do like your gown.’

Her eyes widened until they were huge amethyst orbs. ‘You do?’ He nodded slowly. ‘I’ve never worn anything quite like it, and I confess to feeling a trifle awkward and over-exposed.’

Alex was determined to continue the seduction. He dropped his eyes, bold and admiring, taking another look at those tantalising orbs swelling out of the bodice of her gown and feeling his blood run hot. ‘Think yourself lucky that you are in the middle of a dance floor with an audience, my love. It is the only thing that keeps you safe from me—but not for long.’ He grinned, aware of her unease. ‘So, am I to understand that you are no longer angry with me for deceiving you about your grandmother?’

Her face became grave. ‘Yes. I apologise for what I said to you earlier. It was wrong of me to take it out on you. I know none of it is your fault, and that you were bound by your word to Uncle Henry.’

‘Angelina…when are you going to tell me why you came to London?’

She looked up at him. His eyes were intense. ‘You mean I haven’t?’

He shook his head, holding her gaze, waiting for her to tell him.

In panic her eyes darted away from his. ‘I didn’t like it at Arlington on my own,’ she confessed. ‘I was upset when you left so abruptly. You were so angry. I wanted to settle the argument between us.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

‘By saying I’m sorry.’

‘You are?’ Alex looked down at her dubiously, noticing the soft light in her eyes.

Angelina nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘What a chaste little thing you are,’ he murmured.

Her flush was one of pure innocence. ‘I—I know I must appear that way to you and I—I told you I was—’

‘A virgin, I know. But it’s curable. It is my dearest wish to have done with it. I want to show you how to love in the tenderest way I can. Whatever happened to you in the past, I will make you forget—and I know you will be an avid pupil.’

True to his word, Alex did not leave his wife’s side for a moment, but all the while Angelina’s eyes searched the throng for Lady Broadhurst. Her inattention did not go unnoticed by her husband. His brows drew together with displeasure.

‘Your attention seems to be wandering, my love. If you are looking for Aylard, he has just arrived—and by the look of him he’s disgustingly foxed and making a damn fool of himself.’

‘As a matter of fact I wasn’t looking for Lord Aylard. I have seen him and he does look rather worse for wear,’ she remarked, observing the man in question amidst a circle of his friends, each and every one of them flushed and whooping with unrestrained merriment. She was unable to resist a little smile when she saw Lord Aylard sway slightly as he leaned forward to plant a huge kiss on Lady Unsworth’s cheek.

‘Then who is it your eyes are searching for?’

‘If you must know, I am looking for Lady Broadhurst. She happened to mention that she would be here tonight.’

Alex threw her a look of annoyance. ‘This must stop, Angelina,’ he said harshly. ‘Nothing can be achieved by it. There must be no more questions about your grandmother until you see Uncle Henry. Is that understood?’

Though Angelina’s chin was tilted a notch too high for comfort, to Alex’s relief she remained silent, but as he turned away to speak to a gentleman on a political matter, so engrossed did he become in the issue that he was unaware of the moment his wife left his side when she saw Lady Broadhurst at the bottom of the stairs saying goodbye to their hosts.

Lady Broadhurst told Angelina that she would be delighted to share her coach with her. It would make the journey to Kent more pleasurable having someone to talk to.

Her mission accomplished, Angelina uttered a sigh of relief—which was not without trepidation. Alex would be absolutely furious when he found her gone, but she refused to think about that just now lest it weakened her resolve.

Suddenly a satin-garbed gentleman appeared by her side and seized her attention, astounded at his good fortune to find the adorable Angelina Montgomery at the party—without her husband lurking behind her like some damned guard on sentry duty.

Positively glowing with robust health and champagne, his face almost as red as a cock’s comb, he made a sweeping bow, swaying in the process and almost falling over. ‘My dear Countess! You are simply ravishing,’ he complimented enthusiastically, making small effort to subdue the admiration that shone in his mischievous blue eyes.

Unable to resist Lord Aylard’s ebullient mood, Angelina laughed. ‘Why, Lord Aylard! You have arrived at last, I see. And here was I thinking you were avoiding me.’

‘Not you, sweet Angelina. Never that. ’Tis your glowering, pompous husband I avoid. Where is he, by the way?’ He looked over her shoulder, as if expecting to find him lurking behind her back.

‘He’s talking to an acquaintance.’

‘Remiss of him to let you out of his sight.’

‘Alex doesn’t watch over me every minute of the day.’

‘Seems like that to me. Whenever he and I meet, I swear he would like nothing better than to slay me on the spot.’

Angelina was suddenly surrounded by a boisterous pack of Lord Aylard’s friends. A footman passing by with a tray of brimming champagne glasses was accosted and divested of his load amidst a rousing burst of laughter.

‘Come, Countess.’ Lord Aylard grinned as he attempted to extricate a glass of champagne from one of his friends. ‘I’m having a high old time. You must have a glass of champagne with me to celebrate my good fortune at the tables this evening.’

‘No, thank you. And I think you are awash with it already,’ Angelina commented, looking for a way through the throng of surrounding males, confident she could manage to fend them off without making a scene. ‘You must excuse me.’

Lord Aylard was persistent. In no hurry to let her go he took her arm and looked deep into her eyes, having to blink to try and keep his own in focus. His face was lethargic and sleepy looking now he had stopped grinning for the moment. ‘I think you are wonderful. Do you know that every man in this room is madly in love with you?’

Gerald Buckley, one of his more sober friends, seeing Angelina throw him a look of helpless appeal, came to her aid. ‘Steady on, old man. You’ll end up making an ass of yourself. As you can see, Countess, my friend isn’t himself right now. Since his luck at the tables tonight he’s imbibed too much.’

Angelina gave him a smile of tolerant understanding as Lord Aylard waved him away dismissively.

‘Go away, Gerald,’ he snorted. ‘The Countess and I are going to dance. You do want to dance with me, don’t you Countess?’

‘No—really…’Angelina laughed, resisting his arms, which seemed to be all over the place. ‘If I dance with you in your present state, I fear we are both in danger of ending up in a heap on the floor—and then where will my dignity be? You have drunk far too many glasses of champagne.’

‘That’s because I am celebrating my colossal win at tables.’

‘I know. Why, your face is almost the same colour as your waistcoat.’

Lord Aylard looked down at his flamboyant scarlet-and-gold waistcoat with pride, puffing out his chest. ‘It is rather splendid, isn’t it?’

‘It—certainly catches the eye.’

He grinned. ‘Gerald here doesn’t like it,’ he said, turning his back on his friend, who was hovering close in case Angelina should have need of his protection. ‘Says it’s much too brash—but I think it’s rather elegant.’

‘You certainly have distinctive taste. Now, please excuse me. I simply must return to my husband.’

‘I have a plan,’ Lord Aylard said, catching her arm and half-lowering his eyelid in a conspiratorial wink. ‘Why don’t you ditch that devilishly handsome husband of yours and run off with me?’

‘I wouldn’t dare. I value my life too much.’

‘You are absolutely divine. Have I told you?’

‘You do have a habit of repeating yourself.’ Had it been anyone else behaving so outrageously, Angelina’s sensitivity would have been offended, but she liked Lord Aylard too much to be cross with him.

He swayed, and it was no straight line he walked before he plonked himself down into a chair. Angelina gave a couple of quick little steps to avoid his hand as it reached out for her, but catching her heel in the train of her skirt, she tripped and lost her balance, unable to prevent herself from falling in an undignified heap in Lord Aylard’s lap.

‘Good Lord!’ he exclaimed, his arm snaking round Angelina’s waist. ‘You are incredible, Countess. You really should run away with me, you know.’

‘I think not,’ Alex said.

Everyone, not least Angelina, was suddenly aware of a tall male presence. Alex had moved across the room with such speed and the silence of a panther that no one had seen him come. At a stroke amusement fled from the florid faces. Angelina froze. Her eyes were wide open, her expression incredulous. Their eyes met, Alex’s glacial, his mouth drawn into a ruthless, forbidding line.

He glared down at Aylard. ‘You, sir, forget yourself.’ His voice was like steel. Tempted to commit murder, he restrained himself, but it was an effort.

Lord Aylard’s friends stood back with the wary disbelief of the innocent and uninvolved. Quickly Angelina sprang up from Lord Aylard’s lap, but he remained sprawled out in the chair, his senses and his body too anaesthetised by champagne to be concerned by the threatening menace emanating from the formidable Earl of Arlington. Making no attempt to rise, he grinned inanely up at Alex—seeing double.

‘Hello, Montgomery. Would you care to join us for a glass of champagne—or is it to be pistols at dawn?’

Alex subjected him to a look of severe distaste and chilling contempt. ‘You’re drunk, Aylard, and not worth the shot.’ His eyes sliced to his wife. ‘If you are ready, Angelina, we will say goodnight to our hosts.’

With a mask of feral rage, on reaching the house Alex marched Angelina into her bedchamber. His eyes sliced to Pauline. ‘You may go to bed. Your mistress will not be needing you tonight.’

After Pauline had wordlessly made a hasty retreat, Angelina waited for the onslaught of her husband’s fury. She deeply regretted the unfortunate incident that had occurred. Alex was a proud man and she had foolishly made him an object of public ridicule. It would be no simple matter placating him.

Drawing a quick breath, she tried to swallow her mounting alarm by saying, ‘Really, Alex. If you are going to be difficult, might I suggest you go to bed.’

His look cut through her. The anger and rage were gone from him. What there was instead was ice. ‘I intend to. With you. But I have a matter to settle with you first, lady.’

‘I thought you might.’

‘Damn it,’ he snapped, raking his fingers through his hair and pacing the room with angry, frustrated strides. ‘Are you so simple that you didn’t know what you were doing? Have you forgotten so soon that you are a lady and my wife? The incident with Aylard would not have happened if you had done as you were told and stayed with me.’

‘And how could I know that?’ she flared. ‘I am not some trained pet to do as it’s told. You were engaged in conversation with someone else—and I saw someone I wished to speak to, so I left.’

‘And when I next saw you you were cavorting with Aylard on his knee. How dare you play and flirt with that man so shamelessly?’ he accused, his anger making him unreasonable, for he had seen her trying to distance herself from Aylard before she had tripped and overbalanced into his lap. ‘I will not stand by and watch you parade and flaunt yourself brazenly before Aylard and his friends as though it pleases you to make me a laughing stock.’

Angelina gasped. ‘Alex! That’s not fair. I think you forget yourself.’

‘Oh, no, lady. It’s you who forget yourself. It’s you who plays the strumpet with Aylard.’

Stung by his insult Angelina clenched her fists by her sides and her cheeks flamed. ‘I object to that. How dare you say that to me? I tripped and accidentally fell on to his knee. And I am not a strumpet.’

‘Then why were you behaving like one?’

‘Oh, you mule-headed oaf. I was not. You make too much of it. Lord Aylard was—’

‘Drunk out of his skull,’ Alex shouted, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation.

‘And are you always so very civilised and proper?’ she mocked.

‘My own behaviour is not the issue.’

‘Had it been anyone else’s lap I’d fallen into, you wouldn’t have turned a hair. The mere presence of Lord Aylard at the party was cause enough to tweak your nose. When will it penetrate that thick skull of yours that you have nothing to be jealous of? He accosted me when I had been speaking to an acquaintance.’

Alex stopped pacing the carpet, his eyes snapping to hers. ‘What acquaintance?’

Realising her mistake too late, Angelina remained silent. Her husband’s brows knit together.

‘What’s this?’ he seethed savagely, moving closer, his eyes, refusing to relinquish their hold on hers, a terrifying gleam visible and deadly in their depths. ‘More secrets? Don’t dig the hole deeper for yourself, Angelina. What is needed in this marriage is less secrets—not more.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You went to speak to Lady Broadhurst, didn’t you?’

Angelina raised her chin, trying to look scornful and proud, despite the trembling in her limbs. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘Dear Lord. My patience as a husband is fast running out.’

‘Then perhaps you shouldn’t have married me in the first place. Perhaps I chose the wrong husband,’ she flared daringly.

Alex’s eyes narrowed and he moved closer still, so close that Angelina could feel his hot breath fanning her face. ‘If you had chosen anyone else, lady, one thing you can be sure of is that he would not have been as considerate as I have been. He would not have spent his wedding night alone and the subsequent four weeks. Now, get your clothes off and get into bed,’ he ordered coldly, his eyes looking directly into hers, leaving her in no doubt as to his meaning and intention. ‘This is one night I will not sleep alone.’

‘Whose bed, my lord?’ Angelina asked, as he was about to go to his own rooms to undress. With her elbows akimbo and her fingers drumming on her hips, her manner mocked him. It bore the submissive tones one might expect of a chattel. ‘Shall I get into my own bed to await your pleasure, or yours?’

Alex ignored her overstated humility. An almost lecherous smile tempted his lips as his eyes swept her bed. ‘Which bed do you prefer?’

‘Neither.’

‘Angelina,’ he said softly. The warning in his narrowed eyes and in his voice was unmistakable.

For a moment she shrank from him, her tender eyes darkening in fear. But then her soft lips tightened and her chin came up proudly. ‘Very well, then. Considering I’ve never seen your bed—let it be my own.’

‘The fact that you have never seen my bed is not my fault. Now get undressed. I’ll be back in a minute,’ he said, striding to the connecting door and opening it, his long fingers forcefully unfastening his cravat as he went.

‘And what if I have no desire to sleep with you, Alex?’ Angelina persisted, knowing she was provoking his anger to dangerous heights, but she would do anything to stave off the moment when she would have no choice but to get into that huge bed with her husband in his present mood. ‘I would remind you of the promise you made.’

Without warning he exploded. Slamming the door, he bore down on her relentlessly. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he gripped her with a violence that ripped the breath from her lungs as his fingers bruised her flesh.

‘Until you tell me what happened to you in Ohio, you will not mention that time to me again. If you do—so help me God I swear you will regret it,’ he said, speaking through clenched teeth. His fingers did not relinquish their brutal grip as he thrust his enraged face close to hers. His eyes were narrowed, the silver orbs burning ruthlessly down into her own, his anger surmounted by growing passion. ‘I am heartily sick of it. I will not stand aside and watch you sacrifice our whole future because you cannot bring yourself to speak of it or forget. I refuse to let you go on moping, of seeing it haunt you. I’m damned if I will allow this situation to continue.’

He thrust her from him roughly. ‘Take off those bloody clothes and prepare yourself—and let there be no tears, no virginal platitudes, no outraged modesty or cries of shame. Love me or hate me, Angelina, I will have my own way—especially in my bedroom. Whether you consider it a duty or a pleasure—one way or another it will be done. If you do not remove your clothes, I shall personally remove them myself.’

Her chest heaving, her cheeks aflame, Angelina glared at him. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

His dark brows rose. ‘Try me. You have precisely the time it takes me to remove my own to find out.’

Chapter Thirteen

When Alex strode back into the room two minutes later in a maroon velvet robe and saw her still fully clothed, her eyes blazing defiantly, his own were a fierce white hot heat. Slowly he moved towards her.

‘Perhaps I did not make myself clear before.’

‘You made yourself perfectly clear, my lord.’

‘Well?’

‘It is simply that since you took it upon yourself to dismiss my maid, I cannot reach to unfasten the buttons down the back of my dress.’

‘Then allow me.’

Angelina turned her back, standing perfectly still while his fingers quickly released the row of innumerable tiny buttons from their loops.

‘I can tell you have done this before,’ she commented drily.

‘Correct.’ Task complete, he stood back.

Turning to face him, Angelina kept her eyes fixed on his, taking strength from her anger. Slipping her gown off her shoulders, she pushed it down over her petticoat and stepped out of it, kicking it to one side and making no attempt to go any further.

Hands on hips, Alex quirked a questioning brow. ‘Do you prefer to remove the rest yourself, or would you like me to oblige.’

Angelina struck a mountain of stubbornness as great as his, and with one glorious movement she drew her petticoat over her head and flung it on to the floor. Although no word passed her lips, the look in her eyes as she silently met his gaze was one of pure mutiny.

‘I will die before I let you touch me,’ she hissed.

A crooked smile accompanied his reply. ‘Then die, lady, because I am not leaving. Pray continue.’

‘Go to hell,’ she breathed, the flush of anger deepening over the delicate softness of her cheeks, knowing that without her clothes she would have no protection against those probing eyes.

Her gaze was scornful, as challenging as his own. But Alex was determined. When he moved closer Angelina did not flinch as his fingers gently shoved the thin straps off her shoulders and down her arms, slowly peeling the bodice down and exposing her pert, soft young breasts.

With outraged modesty she had an urge to cover herself with her arms, but with a superhuman effort she managed to conquer her fear and refrain from doing so. As she held his gaze her anger overrode the shock of finding herself almost naked. She allowed his hands to do what she had vowed she would never let happen to her again—to touch her bare flesh, to cup the gentle swell of her breast—and Alex, suspecting what was going through her mind, thanked God for her spirit, for it had given her what she needed to exorcise her fear of what inevitably must happen between them.

Compassion flashed across his features as he caught a fleeting glimpse of the naked pain in the translucent depths of her eyes, and at the sight the demon anger relaxed its grip on him at last. But then his jaw tightened. For some obscure reason he wanted her to maintain her anger, for it would help sustain her over the coming moments until her desire was aroused, and to do that he must remain firm.

It was a difficult moment for Angelina. She wanted to keep an air of cold disdain, to face her husband in calm defiance, but her mauled pride and aching memory of the past assailed her senses. Momentarily a rush of tears blinded her, and she was furious with herself that she should display such weakness. When she saw his gaze resting on her with something akin to pity, it was too much for her to bear. It came to her mind that the time had come to consummate their marriage, and desperately she sought to delay that moment.

‘Alex, let me go.’

‘Not a chance.’

An iron-thewed arm snaked around her waist and his mouth swooped down on to hers. Like a tigress Angelina struggled violently against him, but she was no match against the power of his arms, imbued with even greater strength by the charged passion overwhelming him. When his lips left hers she breathed deeply, feeling the rising pleasure, the kindling of desire that threatened to smother her reason. Suddenly it was all too much. She shook her head, drawing back in his arms.

‘Don’t. Please don’t,’ she begged. ‘Please don’t make me.’

‘Why not?’ Alex murmured, dragging his lips down the slender curve of her neck. ‘Are you as cold as you would have me think?’

She tried to shove away from him, but his arms tightened around her. ‘Oh, no, my angel, my little tease. You have flouted my authority and tormented my senses for long enough. Now I have you—now your reckoning is upon you.’

Angelina arched her back as he held her, pressing her body close to his, his lips caressing and burning her bare skin like fire as he lowered his head to her breasts. To Angelina he seemed larger, more powerful than she had ever seen him, and, strain as she did, she couldn’t break free.

Suddenly some protective barriers snapped inside Alex and he scooped her up into his arms.

Angelina’s breath came in heated spasms. ‘Please don’t. Oh, please. I loathe you—I hate you.’

Her words came on a breath and without conviction. Alex’s grin was almost fiendish. ‘I know, my pet, and you can hate and loathe me to your heart’s content—in bed.’

Suddenly she felt the downy softness of the bed beneath her back. In desperation she resumed her struggle, but somehow Alex managed to tear away what remained of her garments and strip off his robe.

She gasped, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband towering over her, his body eternally masculine and primeval in its naked power. Her shocked reaction to his nakedness brought a smile to his lips and a low chuckled sounded in the back of his throat.

‘So, my love, I have your full attention now.’

In an attempt to cover her own nakedness she reached for the covers, but he tore them from her grasp and snatched her to him, his eyes capturing hers, challenging.

‘No, Angel,’ he said, his eyes telling her there would be no denial as there had been in the past. He would not be turned away with this craving hunger eating away at the pit of his belly. ‘There will be no more barriers between us. I will look at my wife, as is my right. Now and always.’

The softness in his tone and the tender, compelling light in his eyes reassured and calmed her. Fighting him was futile. Besides, physical resistance would be useless against his un-swerving seduction. She waited for the screaming denial to come from that dark corner of her mind she had kept locked for so long, determined to ban its intrusion. But there was nothing, only a strange, empty silence. She lowered her hands that had risen to push Alex away, one of them covering part of the flesh from her naval to her groin whilst the other reached up and brushed her fingertips against his warm, sensual lips with a tenderness that astounded him, her eyes silently telling him that she had no thought of holding back or refusing him.

‘Then look, Alex,’ she said softly, ‘and tell me what you see.’

His lean, handsome features were starkly etched above her.

As she watched his eyes course down the supple curves of her body, over the proud swell of her breasts and narrow waist, to the beckoning curves and soft, secret hollows and shadows of her hips, she tried not to remember the agony of the last time her body had been laid bare for other eyes to look at, when, in shame and humiliation, she had wanted to die. But this time it was Alex looking at her, not a stranger but her husband, and she loved him with all her heart and soul.

Angelina’s voluptuous bloom of womanhood evoked in Alex a strong stirring of desire. He could not believe how much he wanted her, that the body his own had so fiercely craved for so long lay alongside him. His hand reached out and gently traced the outline of her hip, his fingers moving over her slender waist and on to her breast, cupping its fullness.

‘Have you any idea how lovely you are, Angel—how adorable, or how much I want you?’he murmured huskily. Her hair had come loose from its pins in the struggle and lay in luxuriant, tangled disarray around her head like a vibrant halo. Alex’s eyes were hungry and dark with passion, and, unable to resist her a moment longer, he leaned over, covering her mouth with his own, snatching her breath away, teasing her lips when they opened to his. Her lips were warm, eager and sweet as sweet could be.

Slowly his hand slipped about her waist as he drew her body against his so that they were touching full length, while he kissed her in a passionate frenzy, amazed and intrigued by the mixture of innocence, boldness and fear which fired this woman. At first he had intended to take her swiftly, but now he had no such haste in mind. One thing he was sure of—he would not stop until he had achieved what he intended and sealed their vows securely in a physical knot of passion. Nothing short of an earthquake would prevent him making love to her now he’d started. He would make her body sing with rapture before he was done.

Angelina could not believe the pain of ecstasy increasing within her. Where his hand had gone before, so his lips followed. He would have gone further still, but a straight silver scar running from just below her waist to her groin caught his eye. Her arm had concealed it earlier, which was the reason why he had not seen it.

Momentarily he paused. His whole being silently screamed when he saw the evidence of what he knew those savages had done to her, the pain they must have put her through. Please God, let that be all they had done to her, that, despite telling him her virtue was still intact, she had not been violated. He clenched his eyes until the screaming had stopped, feeling her hands as they sought him, wondering why his caresses had stopped—and then she knew. He brought his face on a level with her own, his expression hard, his eyes filled with an intensity and something else that she could not define.

‘Alex—please don’t look like that.’

‘Did those savages do that to you?’

She nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears, her face tormented.

Alex scooped her into his arms, cradling her head in the hollow of his shoulder, burying his face in her tumbling, sweet scented hair and feeling a deep surge of compassion and grieving. ‘God above, how you must have suffered—how they must have hurt you. Little wonder you hated being touched.’

Angelina raised her head and looked at him. ‘Don’t. Please don’t make me remember—not now. You told me you could make me forget, Alex. Please try. Kiss me,’ she murmured, her lips close to his own.

Alex needed no prompting as he captured her mouth in an all-consuming kiss, rousing her sensations and persuading her heart to beat in a frantic rhythm. His hands stroked downwards over the curve of her hips and then upwards along the velvet softness inside her thighs. She gasped, reflexively tensing her muscles and clamping her legs together. Alex felt her resistance and groaned.

‘Angelina, please, my love,’ he said huskily, his face taut with restraint. ‘Trust me. Relax, my darling.’

Above her Angelina could see his face was hard, his eyes dark with passion, and yet there was so much tenderness in their depths that her heart ached. But it was the desperate need she heard in his voice that made her respond.