Dishonourable Proposal Read online

  What truth? Katy thought. If she told him she knew of his infidelity all those years ago, with her own stepmother, what would it prove? Only how deeply he had hurt her. He was an astute man. He would realise just how much she had loved him... No, it was much better to let him think she had had a change of heart. Her young emotions were fickle. She would rather have him believe she was a flighty, promiscuous lady than let him know how vulnerable she really was. Pride was all she'd had left her when she'd walked out on him at eighteen. It would be foolish to surrender it now in the heat of anger.

  'I'm waiting, Katy.'

  So much anger and hurt—too many emotions were surfacing tonight, and she wanted nothing more than to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible, before she said something she would regret.

  'Can we leave now? I've had enough. I'll refund you the money if it's not two yet.' She stood up and swayed slightly—her legs felt none too steady—but in seconds Jake was beside her, his arm going around her waist to support her. He bent his dark head towards her blonde one.

  'I will take you back to the hotel, but first answer me.'

  Half drunk she might be, but she still recognised Jake's determination. 'Does it matter?' she said wearily; raking over the past was a futile exercise.

  'Yes, I think it matters a great deal to me,' Jake responded. He turned her to face him, his arms crossed around her waist, holding her close against his hard body. Tell me. Why do you say I was responsible for preventing you from working at Meldenton years ago? Why do you think I am a hypocrite?' he questioned adamantly. 'Make me understand.'

  She raised her head and looked up into the dark piercing eyes burning down into hers. She felt the heat of his body, the hard length of his muscular thighs pressed against her slender limbs. The tension in him communicated to her even though her head was swimming. She had to get out into the fresh air, away from Jake, but first she had to answer him.

  'You seduced me when I was eighteen, the daughter of your "good friend", and now have the gall to condemn my lifestyle.'

  'Seduced!' he exclaimed. 'You were begging for it.'

  She ignored his exclamation, and his crude comment. 'Oh, come on, Jake,' she drawled, forcing her lips into what she hoped was a confident smile while her mind searched frantically for something to say without admitting she knew about Monica. Slowly her smile turned into a rueful grimace. 'Remember when we had sex...' she could not say 'made love' '... I asked you if I was the first woman you had loved, and you told me I was the first and only woman you had loved? God, but I was naive—I actually believed you were a virgin as well. Instead I was only one in a long line.' She noted with interest the dull flush that burnt up under his skin. 'What would you call it, Jake—the old double standard or hypocrisy? I know what I'd call it.' Katy snorted, and before he could respond she added, 'By the way, when did you last visit Dad, your "good friend"?' she asked spitefully.

  Jake's hands fell to his sides and she was free. She shot a quick glance at his face and to her surprise she saw guilt registered there...

  'It must be nearly a year; I have been out of the country a lot,' he qualified, avoiding her eyes.

  By sheer luck she had hit a nerve. Of course he wouldn't have visited her father, she thought bitterly.

  Once Monica had left, her father's house would have held no appeal for him.

  'Rather the pot calling the kettle black, Jake,' she derided.

  Katy did not see the angry bitterness in his eyes when he lifted his head and looked around the room as if he had just realised where they were. He turned back to her and for an instant the tension was electric. She thought he wanted to shake her, but instead Jake straightened his broad shoulders, and clasped her elbow in his strong hand.

  'This is no place to explain, to talk,' he said flatly. 'We're leaving.'

  Her legs almost buckled when the fresh air hit her, and if it had not been for Jake's hand supporting her she would have crumbled to the ground at his feet. Living mostly in France for the past few years, she was quite used to drinking wine, but in the club she had drunk four glasses in quick succession.

  A camera flash went off in her face. She closed her eyes and instinctively turned, hiding her face in the warmth of Jake's broad chest. She groaned inwardly: the Press would have a field-day. It was the last coherent thought she had for some time.

  'Are you all right? Can you walk, or shall I carry you to your room?'

  Katy opened her eyes. Jake was leaning over her, his darkly handsome face frowning his concern, or more likely disgust, she thought ruefully. She had rather gone over the top in the past couple of hours. She was still feeling woozy, but at least she could recognise they were in the Rolls, parked outside the Inn on the Park, her hotel.

  From her alcohol-hazed mind she managed to gather enough self-control to reply slowly, 'Thank you. I can walk perfectly well.' She crossed her fingers in hope. 'There is no need for you to accompany me.' And with what little elegance she could muster she slid out of the car, to stand, swaying slightly, on the pavement. She took one step before a large arm circled her waist and almost dragged her up the steps to the hotel entrance.

  'You little fool, for all your sophisticated airs, you shouldn't be allowed out alone,' Jake said bluntly, before turning to the reception desk and demanding her key.

  Katy could not fail to notice the expression of knowing male complicity on the young man's face as he handed Jake her key, and she stepped back out of Jake's reach.

  'Do you want coffee sent up?' he demanded.

  'No, thank you. I never drink coffee at night,' she confessed. The young receptionist's look had sobered her up quicker than coffee ever would.

  'May I have my key, please?' She held out her hand to Jake. There was no way he was coming upstairs with her. She was not that intoxicated.

  Instead of giving her the key Jake caught her outstretched hand in his, 'I always see my dates safely to their doors, Katy.' His wide mouth twitched with a hint of suppressed humour, and, tightening his grip on her hand, he urged her towards the bank of lifts. 'And you would not want to spoil that young man's pleasure. He will be fantasising about you and me all night.'

  'Not all night, Jake.' She glanced at the slim gold watch on her wrist. 'Another forty minutes and your time is up, and it can't be a moment too soon for me,' she avowed bluntly, leaving him in no doubt that she considered the evening a duty not a date.

  'In that case I'd better not waste any more time,' he said silkily, and as the lift door closed behind them he turned her into his arms.

  His mouth moved forcibly against hers, evoking a multitude of memories she would rather have suppressed. His hands slid down her back to press her hard against his taut frame. His teeth bit into her lower lip, demanding that she give him access, abandon herself to the passionate awareness that had simmered beneath the surface between them all night.

  Fury at his presumption battled with a rising tide of excitement she could barely control. She wanted to give in to his erotic demand, lose herself in the heady pleasure of his kiss, but she did not dare; he must never know how easily he could reduce her to a state of mindless, aching desire.

  She raised her foot and stepped down hard on his, her stiletto heel sinking into the soft leather of his shoe. He dropped her like a hot potato, and hopped around the lift, holding his foot.

  'What the hell did you do that for? You've almost lamed me!' Jake thundered, his eyes hardening to chips of jet.

  The lift door slid open, and Katy shot out. She didn't like the glint in Jake's eye—it promised retaliation—but she could not repress a chuckle; he had looked funny hopping around on one leg.

  'Don't play me for a fool, Katy, or you'll live to regret it,' he threatened, before adding pointedly, 'If you thought you had seen the worst of my temper in Paris that was nothing to what I could do now.'

  She already bitterly regretted ever having met him, and she flinched at his reminder of Paris. He had turned her life upside-down once, and had tried a
second time, but no way was he doing it a third time. 'Open the door, please,' she muttered, not looking at him. If she could just nip inside and slam it in his face... She watched his tanned hand insert the key in the lock, but in an ungentlemanly move for Jake he walked into the room first.

  'Thank you,' she murmured politely, and, brushing past him, she made a beeline for the bedroom and the safety of the bathroom.

  'Katy! Damn you, I'm not finished with you yet, not by a long way.'

  'So write me a letter,' she replied cheekily.

  She made it and locked the door behind her, Jake's cry of outrage ringing in her ears. A cold shower—that's what I need, she thought foggily, and with a bit of luck Jake would be gone by the time she was finished.

  With unsteady hands she stripped off every stitch of clothing, and, turning the taps on full blast, she stepped into the shower stall. Her whole body went rigid with shock at the first touch of the icy spray. Katy turned her face up to the water and gradually, as it streamed through her hair and over her shivering body, she regained control of her befuddled brain. She had no idea how long she stood under the freezing torrent, until a loud banging on the bathroom door penetrated her consciousness.

  'Katy,' he roared, 'if you are not out of there in two minutes I am breaking this door down.'

  Jake! She groaned. Was she to be spared nothing? She had hoped he would leave, but obviously he had followed her as far as the bedroom. She was in no fit state to cross swords again with him, but it looked as if she had no alternative. Turning off the shower, she stepped out of the cubicle, and, wrapping a fluffy white towel around her soaking wet hair, she rubbed her shivering body dry.

  'Thirty seconds.' The deadly intent in the two words was unmistakable.

  Quickly Katy slipped on a large towelling bathrobe and tied the belt firmly around her waist. A quick look in the bathroom mirror stopped her dead in her tracks. With her face scrubbed clean of make-up, and her hair firmly confined beneath the towel, she looked nothing like a pin-up; instead she looked like a very ordinary and rather frightened young woman.

  'Ten seconds.' The sound galvanised her into action, and with a shrug of her slender shoulders she walked to the door and unlocked it.

  'Oh!' The surprised exclamation left her lips before she could prevent it. Jake was standing by the large double bed and appeared to be in the process of discarding his clothes. Her heart slammed against her breast, her eyes widening as she saw he had removed his jacket and tie, his shirt was unbuttoned almost to his waist, and he was deftly removing the gold cuff-links from the pristine cuffs of his shirt.

  Her gaze lingered helplessly on his muscular chest, and for a moment she had a terrific urge to run her fingers through his black curling body hair, to feel once again his firm tanned flesh beneath her hands. Involuntarily she took a step forward, the sheer animal magnetism of the man drawing her like a magnet. She raised her eyes to his, and froze at what she saw there.

  There was a menacing controlled violence in his dark eyes that she had never seen before. For the first time she recognised his Italian heritage. He scrutinised her slender form with a savage ruthlessness that made her feel she was naked. Instinctively she pulled the belt of her robe tighter, and stiffened her spine.

  'What the hell do you think you are doing?' She went on the attack, swallowing hard on the knot of fear that rose in her throat. Just how much whisky had the man drunk? she wondered, noting the odd glint in his black eyes.

  'Talking with you never got me anywhere, Katy. I am going to do what I should have done years ago: take you to bed and make love to you until you are so damned senseless that you will agree to anything.'

  All her instincts told her to run, but whether it was the after-effect of the wine or just sheer bravado she didn't know. Instead she watched him walk towards her—and what did he mean, 'agree to anything'?

  The hand that reached out and lifted her chin was firm, but she forced herself to ignore the pressure of his fingers on her jaw, and, raising her eyes to his, she arched one perfectly shaped brow derisively. 'Honestly, Jake, darling, I had no idea you could be so dramatic.' She forced a laugh. 'But the evening is over now, and I think you'd better leave.'

  Her casual response infuriated him, and for a few timeless seconds Jake looked capable of murder. Then in a low voice harsh with anger he grated, 'Oh, no, Katy, darling,' mimicking her words, then his hand closed on the lapel of her robe and ripped it open, not with violence but with a cold, premeditated resolution. 'It is only one-thirty and I have paid until two.'

  Katy's bravado vanished in an instant; she raised one hand to push him away, and with the other tried to grasp the edges of her gaping robe, but he was too fast for her. With consummate ease he caught her wrists and pinned them behind her back in one large hand. 'Let go of me, you great brute!' she screeched.

  'No!' The implacable negative was snapped out like a gunshot as his other hand deliberately untied the belt around her waist.

  She was terrified. The musky male scent of him stirred her senses, reminding her of emotions she had thought long since dead. Belatedly she started to struggle, but she was helpless against his superior strength. He towered over her, large and unyielding, and her futile exertions only resulted in her robe sliding off one shoulder completely.

  His dark eyes slid ruthlessly over her exposed breasts, down to her narrow waist, the flat plain of her stomach, the nest of soft golden curls at the apex of her thighs, then slowly over her shapely legs. She was virtually naked, and heat flooded through her at his blatant cynical appraisal of her trembling form.

  'You're being ridiculous, Jake. Please... let me go.' She tried to reason, and wasn't above pleading for her release. She was more terrified than she had ever been in her life.

  'Ridiculous! I was once, you lying little bitch. My God! You even made me feel guilty with your apologetic plea that you were too young for commitment. You wanted to see the world. When all the time you thought I was a womanising rogue. I waited two years for you. Give her time to grow, let her have a fling with people her own age, I told myself, and then you laughed in my face. Well, by God! Tonight you have laughed for the last time; you're grown up now. Your exploits are well-known, and tonight it's my turn for some of the action. You sure as hell owe me. You used me to get rid of your cumbersome virginity and then I wasn't worthy to touch your saintly body. What a joke... Now any man can have you for a price...' His dark eyes narrowed on her pale face, and his hand curved around her bare shoulder as with a jerk he pulled her hard against him.

  He was wrong, so wrong; she had to tell him before this went any further. She raised her face to his, and the merciless expression in his dark eyes seemed to burn into her soul. He was pitiless in his rage and looked capable of anything. Her body was trembling so much that she could hardly control it. Nervously she ran the tip of her tongue over dry lips. 'Please-----'

  He did not let her finish. His dark head lowered and he brought his mouth down with punishing ferocity upon hers, forcing her lips apart, plundering the soft inner tissue until she tasted the sweetness of her own blood on her tongue. It was no lover's kiss, but a kiss of angry, savage possession.

  His hand at her back, holding her wrists, forced her against his muscled thighs. She felt the hard potency of his masculine arousal, and an unwanted flood of sexual awareness consumed her trembling body. She tried to resist the shattering sensual impact, but when his other hand slid from her shoulder to cup one full breast a shaft of arrowing excitement seemed to shoot from her breast to her loins.

  She whimpered low in her throat, and as though it was a signal Jake had been waiting for his mouth eased on hers, and his hand released her wrists to curve around her waist and bend her back over his arm.

  Katy knew she could break free, but his fingers had found the pert pink tip of her breast and plucked gently, bringing it to a tight hard nub of aching desire. His hand roamed tauntingly from one creamy mound to the other, and she was delirious with the pleasure he gave
. His mouth grazed her throat, and her back arched in willing anticipation of the feel of his mouth on her sensitive breasts.

  Her slender arms of their own volition slid up and under his open shirt to cling shamelessly to his broad shoulders.

  Jake growled deep in his throat and swung her up into his strong arms. His mouth spread a trail of fire down her throat and lower to capture one hard nipple between his teeth.

  It had been too long since she had been in a man's arms. Jake's arms. Since she had felt the fierce pleasure of sexual arousal, and Jake had seduced her utterly. She made no demur as he laid her on the bed, and came down beside her, pulling her robe free from under her body.

  His mouth found hers and this time she parted her lips willingly, welcoming, wanting his kiss and more, much more.

  He lifted his dark head, and, supporting himself on one elbow, raked her naked body with black glittering eyes. With one long finger he gently outlined her love-swollen pouting lips. 'You're beautiful; a total wanton, but beautiful. How could any man resist what you offer so freely?' His hand trailed lower to cover her breast. But his throatily voiced comment acted like a douche of cold water on Katy's overheated senses.

  She stared up at his handsome face. He was studying her naked body like a connoisseur of fine art. She recognised the gleaming triumph in his dark, passion-filled eyes, and turned her head away. How could she have been so stupid? Such a push-over?

  Her eyes lighted on the bedside clock, and in that instant she knew what she had to do.

  'Not freely, Jake, darling,' and before he could register her words she had slid off the bed and picked up her robe. If it had not been so shameful she could have laughed at the look of stunned amazement on his flushed face. 'It is after two o'clock, Jake. Your time is up.' He thought she was a whore, so she might as well act like one. Gathering every scrap of self-control she could muster, she sauntered across to the door and walked out.

  She had stepped about two paces into the sitting-room when Jake caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and flung her round to face him. 'How could you do that to me?' He caught her hand and forced it down to his thighs. 'You can't leave me like this, you bitch.'