Beyond Temptation. Lisette Ashton
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on Amelia’s arms again and he turned her around effortlessly. Yale’s nearness always had a disturbing effect and she struggled against the rising passion that his touch evoked. She tried to glare at him but the expression felt false and contrived. Rather than simply holding her where she stood, his hands caressed the leather-clad arms of her cat suit, exciting the warm flesh beneath.
Helplessly, she shivered.
‘I had to make a choice between you and that bitch you were screwing,’ he said softly. ‘For me, there was no contest. I chose you. Now you have to make a choice between what you had and what you’ve got.’ He raised a silencing hand as she tried to interrupt him, seeming determined to make his point. ‘Don’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘I’m not going to mention the hold she had over you. I have no intention of using the words “manipulative” and “soulless” when I talk about her. Nor do I intend to use the words “godless and depraved” when I talk about the way you two were together. I simply want you to accept the way things are. It’s just you and me now. She’s out of the picture.’
Amelia glared at him.
She wished she could believe his words but it was more than a little difficult. For a start, it wasn’t just the two of them. Aside from Bernice and Christian she realised there were also Yale’s paintings. He had devoted so much of himself to each one that she felt as though she were competing for his affections with every completed canvas. Glancing over his shoulder she caught sight of one particular painting that seemed to ridicule his sensible words. She remembered modelling for the picture and she could still feel the memory of every delicious moment that she had endured as Yale captured that image. It was a picture that showed her naked and holding another woman – her – in a lover’s embrace.
‘You weren’t using the words “godless and depraved” when you painted Forbidden Love,’ she reminded him. ‘When you painted that, you had trouble keeping your prick in your jeans.’
He had the good grace to blush but his eyes never left Amelia. ‘Hurting Bernice won’t change things.’
‘I’m not that stupid,’ she spat. ‘I know that hurting Bernice won’t change things.’ She hurled her cigarette to the floor, stamped on it with the toe of her shoe and started back for the whip.
He stopped her.
Strong fingers gripped her arm.
Pulling her back into his embrace, he pressed his lips over hers. His kiss was deep and lurid. His tongue pushed into her mouth and she struggled helplessly as he brushed his knuckles over the swell of her leather-clad bosom. Her nipples pressed against the shiny black hide, eager for more of his sensuous caresses.
‘Forget her,’ he whispered, moving his lips away from her mouth. ‘If you concentrate on our work together, we can all be happy.’
‘How can I forget her?’ she hissed. ‘She meant a hell of a lot to me. You know that. She meant so much to me. And we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, did we?’
He grunted dry, humourless laughter. ‘That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. She issued a bloody fatwa if I remember correctly.’
Amelia winced. Her former lover, she who could not be now named in Yale’s presence, had been Amelia’s soul-mate. She had been Amelia’s lover, partner and best friend. But, for all the positive traits that Amelia admired in her, it had not proved to be a good match. The woman had been cursed with a vindictive personality. And, when it came to Yale making a choice between Amelia and Amelia’s soul-mate, the decision had caused irrevocable upset. They had parted on bad terms.
‘Doesn’t it worry you?’ she asked.
He shrugged, seeming genuinely indifferent to the situation. ‘I’ve been threatened before. Admittedly she did it with a little more finesse than some, but at the end of the day it was only a threat. I can’t really imagine her getting into a position where I have to get down on my bended knees and grovel at her feet.’
‘Then you don’t know her very well,’ Amelia started. ‘When she …’
He pressed his finger against her lips, silencing her. Slowly, he shook his head from side to side. ‘We agreed not to mention her name, and you asked me not to talk about her any more. Let’s try to keep to that agreement, shall we?’
She tried to glare at him but it was impossible. Once again, he had ignited the fire between her legs and she was determined to do whatever he asked. His nearness was infuriatingly arousing. It took a deliberate effort to stop herself reaching out to touch him. Smiling into his eyes, she took a step away and reached for the whip.
‘Punishment time, you worthless pair of maggots,’ she hissed.
She heard Yale’s appreciative chuckle and knew that her mood was exactly the one he wanted to capture. As she raised the cat and aimed it at Christian’s bare backside, she heard Yale’s brush caressing the canvas behind her.
The shrill whistle of a mobile phone broke the mood.
‘Shit!’ Yale exploded. ‘Don’t I ever get any peace?’
Amelia turned in time to see him hurl his paintbrush to the floor. He snatched his discarded jacket from the back of a nearby chair. A thunderous expression clouded his brow. She considered whipping Christian’s arse anyway. The idea held a torrid appeal and she was never one to shy away from that sort of temptation. But she could sense Yale’s good mood evaporating. And, like all the others who worked for him and with him, Amelia never wanted to incur Yale’s wrath.
He pulled the phone from his pocket and pressed the receive button with a paint-smeared thumb. ‘This had better be good,’ he growled into the mouthpiece.
Amelia studied the artist as he listened to the phone. He held his jacket between careless fingers. Every muscle in his body had been rigid with mounting anger. As she watched, she saw his posture soften.
For an instant, his frown returned.
‘This is a joke, right?’
Then he relaxed again.
‘This is better than good, Dominic.’ Yale’s voice was rising with delight. ‘This is tremendous. I owe you, man, and I owe you big time.’
He paused for a second.
‘Maybe not that much.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll get onto it tonight. When things are sorted, I’ll call you and let you know what’s happened, Dominic.’ He snapped the phone off and dropped it back into his jacket pocket. Smiling at Amelia he said, ‘That was Dominic.’
‘I’d guessed.’
Yale shook his head, still grinning in spite of her curt response. ‘He met the senior critic from Art last night. He’s just tried to get in touch with her again.’
Amelia continued to regard him with a speculative gaze. He was so excited and triumphant his body trembled. Intrigued, she urged him to continue.
‘She’s away from the office at the moment, but he suggested I go and introduce myself to her anyway.’
‘How can you do that if she’s away from the office?’ Amelia asked. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
Yale laughed. ‘That’s the best part,’ he told her happily. He shook his head, causing waves of long dark hair to fly around his face. ‘She’s spending a week at Holbert Manor. Dominic thinks I should go up there and show her some of my canvases.’
‘Holbert Manor? Seriously?’
Amelia drew a startled breath. This was beyond coincidence. There were so many questions, she didn’t know which to ask first.
Yale treated Holbert Manor as his own personal Mecca. The likelihood of the art critic sloping off to that particular location was so incredible Amelia thought it was more like a sign from the gods than a mere coincidence. She tried to find the words to express the sentiment but could only smile with dizzied delight.