LITMIR.BIZ

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why the subterfuge? Why not just come straight out and tell me?’

      She shook her head, not ready to tell him that she’d felt too vulnerable to tell him the truth. That she’d been afraid of the way she felt about him and the effect it’d had on her. In fact, she was still afraid. Hadn’t her mother been made a fool of by men who were out of her reach, time and time again? And hadn’t the debacle of her own disastrous marriage proved that Emma was formed from the same mould as the woman who had given birth to her?

      ‘Because there never seemed a right time,’ she hedged. ‘And because I’d promised Nat that I’d get you off his back.’

      ‘If Nat had wanted that, then he should have had the guts to tell me so himself!’ he flared. And then he shook his head, amazed at his own stupidity. If Nat had really loved Emma, then there was no way on earth he would have tolerated her being moved away to another city like that. Why hadn’t he seen that before?

      Because as usual he had been trying to fix things. To orchestrate events from the sidelines, the way he’d always done. A muscle worked in his cheek as he realised the full extent of his need to control. But he wasn’t going to beat himself up about it. That was the way he’d had to be. Hadn’t he needed every bit of that steely control, in order for his family to survive? When the Constantinides fortune had been bled away by his father’s vacuous new wife—and his mother’s consequent illness—hadn’t Zak been the one that everyone had relied on?

      He stared down at Emma, at the slanted green eyes and pale tumble of her hair. He’d been planning to leave her at her room and then to go back to his own, to maybe drink himself into oblivion and think about what a fool he’d been. But his eyes now focused on the soft white silk which clung to yet concealed the pale, curvy body beneath. And suddenly he thought, What the hell?

      The lift doors slid open at her floor but as she made to exit, he caught hold of her wrist and pulled her back inside, so that she was wedged right up close to his chest.

      ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she whispered.

      ‘Let’s lose the innocent act, shall we? I’m going to do what you’ve been wanting me to do all night. I’m going to kiss you, Emma. To kiss you until you don’t know where your mouth ends and mine begins—and after that I’m going to make love to you. Unless, of course, you don’t want me to?’ He read the darkened hunger in her eyes and saw the helpless tremble of her lips. ‘No, I thought not,’ he said grimly as he hit the button for the 34th floor. ‘Because you want this just as much as me. You’ve wanted this from the first moment you ever set eyes on me. We both have. And now we’re damned well going to do it and maybe then it’ll stop eating away at me.’

      He was all out of words and all out of excuses and, even though a part of him despised his own weakness, he drove his mouth onto hers in a kiss which had been a long time in coming.

      Emma swayed as his mouth came down hard on hers and she found her lips opening greedily. Was this right or was this wrong? She didn’t know—and right now she didn’t care. Because there was no alternative. None. The thought of going through the rest of her life and not kissing him, of never experiencing this—would surely make it an empty life.

      Her eyes fluttered to a helpless close as his hands splayed possessively over her bare back. It felt as if her body were melting and this wretched dress was burning her skin and she could barely wait for him to touch her properly. The sensation of it was so powerful that, for a moment, her knees buckled.

      Yet even as her body felt on fire with need a part of her found it hard to believe that this was really happening. Because she’d never had this feeling before. Not with Louis. Not with anyone. She’d thought it was her—that it was all down to her own inadequacy. Because that was the accusation which men hurled at women when they couldn’t … couldn’t … arouse them.

      The lift stopped and the doors slid open to reveal a couple in full evening dress who were blinking at them in surprise.

      ‘Good evening,’ said Zak pleasantly as he caught Emma’s hand and walked straight past them.

      But Emma heard the woman’s voice as it floated after them down the corridor.

      ‘Did you see what they were doing, Earl?’

      ‘I sure did,’ answered Earl, an unmistakable trace of envy in his voice.

      Emma’s cheeks were flushed and her heart was pounding by the time they reached Zak’s suite—but she was too nervous with excitement to give the vast penthouse more than a cursory look.

      ‘I’m not going to offer you a drink,’ he said. ‘Because we both know we’re not here for cocktails. There has been too much deception, Emma, and there’s not going to be any more. Not tonight. Do you understand?’

      She nodded. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Tonight we’re going to be very honest with each other. You’re going to tell me exactly what it is you want, and I’m going to give it to you.’

      His words both thrilled her and scared her because how was she supposed to know what she wanted? How on earth could she tell him that she didn’t know? Nerves momentarily threatened to overwhelm her, but then he had pulled her into his arms and was grazing his lips over hers and she began to shiver in helpless response.

      ‘Zak,’ she breathed as he flicked her lips open with the arrogant lick of his tongue and she could feel the warm mingling of their breath.

      ‘Tell me, what is it you want, Emma?’

      ‘I want …’ Her words trailed away. How could she articulate what had only ever been a fantasy?

      ‘This, perhaps?’ His hand cupped her breast, luxuriantly circling the rocky nipple so that she moaned.

      Against his shoulder, she squirmed with excitement, swallowing down the paper dryness in her throat. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

      ‘I thought so. Now let’s try this …’ His hand skated over her belly, his fingers drifting over the delicate silk-satin of her white dress until, with blatant possession, they rested at her crotch. Briefly, his fingers whispered over her sensitive mound, and he ignored her little gasp of protest as he drifted them further down to splay over her thigh.

      ‘Zak,’ she murmured brokenly, her eyes tightly shut, scared she was going to crumple to the carpet and give away just how useless she was at all this.

      Assessingly, he ran his gaze over her as she clung to him, his heart beating with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. She was certainly very turned on. Enough for him to just push her down onto the carpet and do it to her right there—and part of him was angry enough at her deceit to want to do just that. To take her in as swift and as perfunctory a way as possible and then to get rid of her as fast as he could.

      But even though it had been less than a month since he’d met her, he could never remember feeling quite like this before—as if he would die if he didn’t possess her. Was that the power of the forbidden? Because for so long he’d thought he couldn’t have her? What was it they said—that forbidden fruit was the sweetest? Yet through the dying waves of his anger he realised something else—something which was far more dangerous than acknowledging the allure of the forbidden. He didn’t want it fast and furious, with him just unzipping his fly and thrusting into her eager flesh. If it was only going to be once, then it was going to last all night. One unforgettable night.

      He picked her up with the minimum of effort, enjoying the way her eyes snapped open and registering her delighted gasp with a grim satisfaction. So she, who had expressed disbelief that women liked masterful men, was discovering that she’d been wrong all along, was she?

      He carried her into the bedroom, where he set her down on her high heels and sucked in a deep breath while she steadied herself, her hands holding on to his shoulders.

      ‘Take off your shoes,’ he said.

      He was

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