Mills & Boon Stars Collection: Ruthless Demands: The Sicilian’s Stolen Son / The Greek Demands His Heir / The Greek Commands His Mistress. LYNNE GRAHAM
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lifted her chin. ‘But that doesn’t mean I can’t develop a different outlook. And I have changed. If you must know, I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.’
His dark eyes glittering like polished jet, Luciano vented a laugh of unholy amusement. ‘I assume that’s your idea of a joke...’
‘No, it’s not actually,’ Jemima told him tightly, thinking sadly of the number of times her late twin had spoken of that same ambition to her. ‘Everybody has to start somewhere when they make changes. I mean, why would you give me all those clothes anyway, for goodness’ sake?’
‘You’re not that naïve.’
Her colour heightened. ‘So, obviously it was a gift made with certain expectations, and if I’m not prepared to meet those expectations, I can’t possibly accept it.’
‘Of course you’re prepared to meet my expectations.’ Luciano surveyed her with galling assurance, smouldering dark golden eyes roaming over her with a potent sexuality that made her tremble. Her nipples prickled below her clothing and a tiny burst of heat ignited in her pelvis, starting up a nagging throb of awareness.
‘I’m only here for a few weeks of summer for your son’s benefit,’ Jemima reminded him stubbornly. ‘His benefit, not yours.’
Luciano said a rude word in English that made her flinch.
‘I’m trying to be reasonable and honest here to avoid misunderstandings,’ she told him in growing frustration.
Luciano stalked closer, silent and graceful as a night-time predator, and said an even ruder word in dismissal of that statement. What did such a woman know about honesty? What had she ever known?
He was so close now that Jemima could have reached out and touched him. Her heart was thudding out a staccato beat of apprehension and her breathing had ruptured into winded audible snatches.
She stiffened her spine and tilted her head to one side. ‘I don’t like your language.’
‘I don’t like what you’re saying. I get very irritated when those around me talk nonsense or tell lies,’ Luciano told her grittily, his Italian accent liquefying every vowel sound. ‘You’re trying to say that you don’t want me and that is a huge lie!’
Her pale blue eyes widened. ‘Are you always this sure of your own attraction?’
Long brown fingers lifted her braid from her shoulder and detached the tie on the end. He began to unlace the long golden strands. ‘I want to see your hair loose...’
A new leaf, he was ruminating in disbelief. Could she really believe that he would be impressed by such drivel? How could she look at him with those luminous ice-blue eyes that seemed so candid and continue to lie and lie to his face? She was a completely shameless and stupid liar. Anger, bitter and jagged as a knife edge, cut through Luciano, burning and scarring wherever it touched. He was all too familiar with the cunning cleverness of female lies.
‘This is getting too...too intense,’ Jemima muttered uncertainly.
Luciano wound long fingers into the golden mane of her hair to tug her closer. ‘You shouldn’t lie to me. If you knew how angry it makes me, you wouldn’t do it.’
Her nostrils flared on the scent of him that close. Some expensive lemony cologne overlaid with clean, husky male and a faint hint of alcohol was assailing her and her tummy performed a nervous somersault. ‘I’m going back home in just a few weeks,’ she reminded him shakily. ‘I’m only here for Nicky.’
‘Liar...my son was not your primary motivation,’ Luciano derided in a raw undertone, thoroughly fed up with her foolish pretences. ‘You came here to be with me. Of course you did.’
Her brows pleated in dismay. ‘Luciano...you’re not listening to me—’
‘Why would I listen when you’re talking nonsense?’ he demanded with sudden harshness.
Jemima looked up at him, scanning the dark golden eyes that inexplicably turned her insides to mush and made her knees boneless. As he lowered his head her breath caught in her throat and her pupils dilated. Without warning his arms went round her, possessive hands delving down her spine to splay across the ripe swell of her hips and haul her close. His mouth crashed down on hers with hungry force and in the space of a heartbeat she travelled from consternation to satisfaction. That kiss was what she really wanted, what her body mysteriously craved.
He kissed her and the world swam out of focus and her brain shut down and suppressed all the anxious thoughts that had been tormenting her. It was simultaneously everything she most wanted and everything she most feared. To be shot from ordinary planet earth into the dazzling orbit of passion and need by a single kiss was what she had always dreamt of finding in a man’s arms, but Luciano was by no stretch of the imagination the male she had pictured in such a role. After all, Luciano wasn’t for real. She might be inexperienced but she wasn’t stupid and she knew that sex would only be a game with him and that he would only play with her without any intention of offering anything worthwhile. A woman needed a tough heart to play such games as an equal and she knew she wasn’t up to that challenge.
‘You want me,’ Luciano grated against her red swollen mouth, his breath warming her cheek and bringing the faint scent of alcohol to her awareness.
Jemima shivered violently against the unyielding confines of his lean, muscular body. She loved the strength and hardness of his well-honed frame. Even through their clothes she could feel him hot and ready against her and the tight ache at the heart of her was like a strangling knot that yearned for freedom. The taste of his mouth was still on hers, nerve cells jangling with the longing for a repeat and the erotic plunge of his tongue. With a receptive shudder that signified the strength the gesture demanded, she brought up her hands and pressed against his broad chest to drive some space between them.
‘No, not like this,’ she mumbled gruffly, fighting herself as much as she was fighting his attraction.
She wanted him. He was right about that. She had never wanted anything or anybody as much as she wanted Luciano at that moment. Pulling free of him, stepping back, physically hurt as unsated cravings set up a drumbeat of angry dissatisfaction throughout her quivering body. Kicking off the silly shoes that limited her mobility was the work of seconds and her sudden loss of height disconcerted him into lifting his arms off her in surprise. Ducking out of reach and barefoot, Jemima darted round him and pelted out of the door as though baying hounds were chasing her.
Black brows pleating, Luciano swept up the abandoned shoes and looked at them incredulously. Did she think she was Cinderella or something? In bewilderment, because a woman had never before treated him to such stop-go tactics, he poured himself another stiff drink. He didn’t get it. He really didn’t understand why she was running away. Why would she do that? What possible benefit could she hope to attain by infuriating him?
And then the proverbial penny dropped and he wondered why he had not immediately grasped her strategy. After all, it was an exceedingly basic strategy: she wanted more. In fact Jemima or Julie or whatever she and her late twin had chosen to call themselves had been born wanting more. And she knew he was rich enough to deliver a lot more. Only he wouldn’t, Luciano thought angrily, stoking up his resentment and his hostility. He was determined not to further reward a woman who had lied and schemed to make a profit out of his infant son as though he were a product on sale to the highest bidder.
BREATHLESS, JEMIMA LEANT back against the door she had slammed behind her in her haste to reach her bedroom. Well, so much for turning down the gift of the clothes with charm and diplomacy! Hadn’t that gone well? She grimaced and groaned out loud. Why did she make such a mess of everything with Luciano? What happened to her brain? What happened to tact? Why had she kissed him back as though her life depended on it? Resisting him, acting repulsed would have kept him at bay, but instead she had encouraged him.
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