The Secret Mistress. Emma Darcy
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in explaining her decision to Alan. It was bad enough knowing he was listening without him watching her every nuance of expression.
“Where are you calling from?” Alan demanded, the moment she announced herself.
“I’m still with Luis in his suite. He’s got you the bus, Alan.”
“What did he want for it?”
“It’s no problem. You can tell everyone to be in the hotel foyer, ready to leave at seven o’clock, all going well.”
“All going well?” Suspicion sharpened his voice. “What’s Luis up to, Shontelle?”
“Alan, he’s ordered the bus. He can’t guarantee the military won’t stop it before it reaches the hotel.”
She heard him expel a long breath. She also heard Luis straighten away from the desk, moving to stand behind her.
“Right! That’s it then,” Alan decided. “I take it you’ve finished talking and you’re ready to leave. Give me five minutes and I’ll be at the side door into the Plaza to bring you back here.”
Hands slid around her waist, distracting her. Luis was standing close behind her, very close, but not touching except for his hands. Her buttocks clenched in sheer nervousness. Her heart leapt into her throat when he started unbuckling her belt.
“Shontelle?”
She dragged her attention back to Alan, belatedly recalling he’d been offering the protection of his escort back to the hotel.
“Uh...no. No, we haven’t finished here,” she rushed out.
“Just starting,” Luis murmured, darkly purred words that set her pulse pounding. The buckle undone, he unbuttoned the waistband and drew down her zipper.
Shontelle held her breath. Her mind blanked out on all active thought, waiting, poised on the edge of an explosion of sensation should he move his hand inside her clothes and...
“What’s going on there?” Alan demanded, his voice getting edgier.
She gulped, forced herself to think. An answer was needed. Fast. “I’m going to spend the night with Luis, Alan,” she gabbled, almost yelping as her trousers and underpants were pulled down to her thighs.
“What?” Alan squawked.
Her brother’s shock was nothing to Shontelle’s at being so summarily stripped. Exposed. Vulnerable to anything Luis might choose to do with her. This was going too far, too fast. The urge to drop the telephone and yank up her clothes was muddled by Alan’s yelling at her.
“I’m coming to get you right now.”
“No!” She jerked around to face Luis, wanting to stop his actions, too. “No!” she repeated for him.
Wild, reckless and wicked intent blazed at her. He ignored her protest, picked her up, sat her bare bottom on the desk, lifted one of her legs, propped her foot against his thigh and proceeded to undo her bootlace. Shontelle lost track of what she should be doing. Luis was undressing her with ruthless efficiency. His powerfully muscled thigh was bent towards her, reminding her of how magnificently perfect his physique was. But shouldn’t she stop this...this taking? If she moved her foot up...
“Shontelle...” Alan bellowed in her ear. “...If this is the bargain he’s struck with you...”
“Alan, I’ve done your business,” she cut in, frantic to be free of the argument. “This is mine and Luis’ business and it’s completely personal. Personal! Got that?” she snapped.
Her shoe and sock were off. Luis was lifting her other leg.
“Are you off your brain? Luis will chew you up and spit you out again,” Alan thundered at her.
Once both her feet were free, he would remove her clothes and...there was no time for appeasing Alan. Couldn’t be done anyway. Just watching Luis’ deft, ruthless movements, she was torn between excitement and fear, yet swamping both feelings was a compelling need to know all she wanted to know.
“Let him do it then!” she cried recklessly.
“Is he holding the deal with the bus over you?” Anxious now...
Better for her to sound sane...though her trousers and underpants were being tugged down her calves, over her ankles. She struggled for breath, struggled for some final words.
“Do me a favour, Alan, and pack my bags so they’re ready to go. I’ll come back when the curfew lifts in the morning.”
Luis stepped in between her legs, his eyes glittering at her, exultant, revelling in seizing the moment, the night, her, everything...making it his.
“Shontelle, for God’s sake! Will you...”
Luis seized the telephone. “Stay out of this, Alan!” he commanded. “Your sister and I have much to work through and it’s very, very personal.”
There was no argument with Luis. He simply didn’t allow it, cutting the connection by slamming the receiver down. Without so much as a pause, he grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and hauled it off her. Shontelle’s arms were still coming down as his hands whipped around her back to unclip her bra. No fumbling. Snap, and her last piece of clothing dangled loose and was swiftly consigned to the pile on the floor.
She was completely naked, dazed by the speed of its happening and the total lack of any sensuality accompanying the stripping of clothes. She stared at Luis’ face and saw a mask of hard pride...dark, dark Angel.
He gave her no time to think, speak, question. He gripped her rib cage, hoisted her off the desk and carrying her virtually at arm’s length, he strode through the suite to the bedroom. Impossible for Shontelle to find purchase for her arms or legs. They flapped uselessly. She was so stunned at being held like some distasteful object, any sense of coordination was utterly lost. He tossed her on the bed and she bounced into an abandoned sprawl.
“That’s where I want you,” he said, his voice harsh with the effort expended. He lifted his shoulders back, holding an imperious, superior stance by the bed. “Where you should be...” he went on with savagely mocking emphasis, “...on the playing ground you use so well.”
Scathing words, scathing eyes as they travelled slowly over her. They spurred Shontelle into a clear recognition of his fierce drive to pay her back for having regarded him as no more than a good lay. Even lower than that...a transient lay who’d worn out his novelty value. The Latin lover tag had remained a burr under his skin.
But deeper than that...was she still under his skin?
He was holding control, determined on keeping the upper hand, but how much feeling for her lay behind his armoured pride? If she could break through...
She moved sinuously, provocatively, arranging herself more comfortably on the bed, looping her hair over one shoulder so it streamed across her breasts. “You were quite a masterful player yourself, Luis,” she said with a reminiscent smile, idly moving a tress of hair back and forth over one of her nipples. “A pity you seem to have lost your touch.” She deliberately ran her gaze over his body as she added, “Brute strength is rather a sad step down.”
A mirthless laugh scraped from his throat. “In your search for variety, I’m sure a bit of rough has featured somewhere.” His eyes glittered challengingly at her as he stripped off his shirt. “I thought it might give you a kick since you grew bored with my kind of lovemaking.”
“I was never bored with you,” she said truthfully. “I thought what we shared was very special.”
A flash of derision. “So you left before it got spoiled.”
It was spoiled before she left. “The writing was on the wall, Luis,” she said quietly, remembering how naive she’d been not to even see it until it was pointed out to her. “I got out before it fell on top of me.”
“What writing?”