by Annie West
He’d known Ravenna was passionate. Her vibrancy, whether in fury or indignation, had fascinated from the first, drawing him despite himself. If he’d known how that translated to erotic passion he’d have followed through on that kiss in Paris instead of waiting all this time.
Satisfaction stirred as he nudged open the bedroom door. This was what he wanted from her. Sex. The sort of passion that drove out anything as corrosive as pity. He didn’t need her feeling sorry for him. He was no charity case.
Jonas laid her on the bed, taking in the beguiling curve of her full lips and those lustrous, long dark lashes that fanned her rosy cheeks. Something unfamiliar skated through him as he looked down at her. Tenderness. The need to look after her.
The realisation slammed into him, catching his breath. Already his hand had reached out as if to trace Ravenna’s cheekbone, the pure angle of her jaw, the delicate pulse at her throat. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered the look in her eyes as they’d climaxed together. The wonderment and joy. A joy so strong it had branded him.
Jonas snatched his hand back.
Even asleep Ravenna was dangerous.
He assured himself this wasn’t different from what he’d experienced with other lovers. It couldn’t be different. If he felt altered it was only because of the depth of his arousal. He couldn’t remember ever needing any woman with such a primitive urgency.
Jonas nodded, satisfied with that explanation. He knew what he wanted from Ravenna and it wasn’t emotion. He’d never felt emotionally bound to a lover and he wasn’t about to start with her of all women.
When the time came for feelings they would be for his wife. The perfect woman who would fit his requirements and his world, who’d excel at being a mother, a gracious hostess, a social success and a loyal, supportive spouse.
Jonas frowned. For the first time his vision of the perfect wife to create his perfect future didn’t fill him with anticipation.
He looked at Ravenna, noting the graze of stubble rash on her cheek where his unshaved jaw had rubbed and how the damp patch on her T-shirt clung to her nipple where his tongue had laved.
He felt a primitive satisfaction that he’d marked her as his.
His chest tightened and a frisson of doubt snaked through him. No! This was lust pure and simple. Not to be confused with his longer-term plans. Those plans had been all that kept him sane in a world where no one cared for him except as a pawn in the game of his parents’ disintegrating marriage or, later, as the goose that lay the golden eggs. His family, his women—all had only wanted what he could give them. They hadn’t wanted him.
So he’d learned to take.
He let his gaze rove Ravenna’s slim legs, bare and supple, to the V of dark hair between her thighs. His sex stirred, eager for more.
That was what he wanted. Physical pleasure and release. He could seduce her awake or have her again while she slept. But he did neither.
His gaze caught on a red mark on her hipbone. It was where he’d gripped her hard as he came. White-hot memory of that glorious cataclysm rocked him. And more, of the soft light in her eyes when she’d tugged him to her and wrapped him close in trembling arms. She’d had nothing to gain from that embrace. It had been about giving, sharing, and he couldn’t remember anything better than those moments in her arms, not even that spectacular orgasm.
Silently Jonas shucked off his jeans and climbed onto the wide bed, careful not to disturb Ravenna. The bed shifted beneath his weight and she rolled towards him. Automatically he put his arm around her, tugging her close, her head on his shoulder, her hand at his hip. His breath snared at the innocently erotic pleasure of her touch but he made no move to wake her. For now this was enough.
He wrapped his other hand around her thigh, dragging it over his belly, and sank back into the mattress.
It seemed hours later that she woke. Her lashes tickled his chest as they fluttered open. Her fingers twitched as if testing the surface she lay on. Instead of rearing back in horror she nuzzled closer as if drawing in his scent. All his senses went ballistic.
She blinked sleepily up at him, her lips widening in a smile that knocked a chunk of granite off the corner of his heart. Her gaze was warm and for the first time he saw her smile reach her eyes. They glowed.
Jonas felt something shift deep inside. Something he had no name for. He felt it again when her hand skimmed up and around and he found himself being cuddled.
Hugs weren’t common in his experience, even after sex. He discovered he liked them. They made him feel...good.
Who’d have thought ‘good’ could be so satisfying?
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was low, shivering through him like a caress.
Another first. How many lovers thanked him even though he put their pleasure first?
Guilt pummelled him. He hadn’t been careful with Ravenna. He’d taken her with a savagery that bordered on uncontrolled. Look at the way he’d bruised her.
‘Are you okay?’
She blinked at his rough tone and moved as if to prop herself up to see him better, but he kept her clamped to him. He liked her right where she was.
‘Okay? I feel fantastic.’ Her smile turned secretive and her lashes lowered as her cheeks coloured.
A woman who blushed and thanked him for taking her with the finesse of a horny teenager? Ravenna was far from the woman he’d imagined.
‘I didn’t hurt you?’
She shook her head. ‘I told you I enjoyed it. Didn’t you?’ Ravenna’s voice was like warm whisky spilling through his veins and pooling low in his belly. She looked him square in the eyes and Jonas’ heart give a great thump.
‘Absolutely.’ Enjoy didn’t come close to describing what he’d felt. ‘But I should have been more careful. I’ve bruised you.’ His hand drifted to her hip, caressing the spot where he’d held her.
Her lashes dipped, hiding her eyes as she shrugged. ‘I bruise easily. But it doesn’t hurt.’
‘Good.’ Jonas told himself he should end this, get up and walk away. But he couldn’t. His fingers feathered the soft skin at her hip and he heard her hiss of indrawn breath.
‘In that case,’ he murmured, slamming a door on the voice of caution crying out in his head, ‘perhaps we might do it again.’ He watched her eyes widen with anticipation and felt satisfaction flare. Satisfaction at the thought of having Ravenna again, of taking his time to pleasure her slowly. Of sharing that oneness again.
‘I never thought I’d say this, but you have some good ideas, Jonas Deveson.’ Her smile was sexy as she trailed a finger up his throat to his ear.
Arousal jolted through him. Swiftly he rolled her onto her back, capturing her wrists and dragging them above her head. At her moue of disappointment, he leaned in and tasted her mouth, shocked yet pleased to discover her as delicious as before.
‘Let me, Ravenna. I want to do this slowly.’ He feathered tiny kisses down her neck, then moved down and licked the underside of her breast, unbearably turned on just by the taste of her and by her uneven breathing.
‘I’m not sure I can bear it.’ But the look in her eyes belied her words. It was warm like a caress as it locked with his. Again he felt that unfamiliar clenching in his chest.
In that moment it was far more than sex that he wanted.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RAVENNA WOKE IN Jonas’ bed. Smiling, she rolled on her side, reaching for him. He wasn’t there.
Her stomach dipped. She’d never imagined herself insatiable but an afternoon with Jonas had taught her things she’d never expected.
That she had erogenous zones she’d never known.
That she could make Jonas lose his cool.
That ecstasy made her noisy. Her face flamed at the way she’d screamed his name over and over. But he hadn’t minded, encouraging her as if
he enjoyed hearing her shout his name.
That she had a weakness for silvery eyes, a broad chest and clever hands that knew exactly how to touch her.
That she had a weakness for Jonas Deveson.
Her breathing quickened. Jonas wasn’t the frigid enemy she’d thought. He had his own difficult past. He’d been the one supporting his family and her mother, from the day he left school. Was it any wonder he’d had no time for Piers or Silvia, who’d kept their distance yet lived off his hard work?
As for his mother... Ravenna bit her lip, remembering his wretchedness as he read that diary. Whatever else Jonas might be, he wasn’t unfeeling. He’d been raw with pain. It had hurt to see him so.
When he’d made love to her it hadn’t been a cheap little wham, bam, thank you ma’am, no matter how fast and furious the first time. She’d felt so much. They had shared more than mere physical coupling. And his tenderness here in his bed—
Ravenna wriggled under the sheets. The next time he’d been gentle, utterly devastating with those careful caresses, until the white-hot urgency overtook them again.
It had been wonderful, far beyond her imaginings.
The explosion of passion had been inevitable. She’d been too inexperienced to understand the frisson of sexual tension from the moment he’d stalked into the Paris apartment. All she’d known was that around Jonas she was on edge, as if her skin didn’t fit. She’d put it down to hatred, not attraction.
Ravenna watched the door. Jonas would be back soon. Their relationship had changed irrevocably and they needed to work out where they went from here.
It wasn’t so much sex that had changed their relationship, but the sense of intimacy. She knew him for a more complex, feeling man than she’d imagined. And he knew she was more than the grasping thief he’d believed, or he wouldn’t have let her get so close. He was too proud to open himself to a woman he disdained. The knowledge buoyed her.
Tantalisingly, Ravenna felt on the brink of understanding Jonas. Not completely, but she realised his original antipathy came from the harsh realities he’d faced. She’d seen a hint of the scars he’d carried since childhood.
In that moment she despised Piers. He’d been good to Silvia and she was grateful, but to ignore his own son...!
Whatever difficulties Ravenna and her mother faced, they’d had each other. She couldn’t imagine growing up so alone. Jonas hadn’t spoken much of his relationship with his mother but she guessed it hadn’t been easy. What she knew of Piers’ wife made her seem self-focused rather than maternal.
A shiver passed through Ravenna. She and Jonas still had a long way to go. The money was an almost insuperable barrier. Ravenna couldn’t simply blurt out the truth. Jonas detested her mother and would love a chance to make her suffer if he learned it was she who’d stolen from him.
But surely now Ravenna could make him listen and he’d be more understanding. Things weren’t black and white any more. Behind the lord-of-the-world façade was a man she wanted to know better.
Given time they’d work things out. It wouldn’t be easy, or immediate, but eventually he’d understand.
Through the bathroom door her mobile phone rang. The insistent ringing grated, high pitched like nails clawing her sensitised skin. Maybe because she’d faced such bad news in the last year she couldn’t ignore it—had to check it wasn’t something important.
Scurrying to her room, she snatched up the phone and draped a rug around herself, chilled after leaving Jonas’ bed.
‘Ravenna?’
‘Mamma? What is it? Are you all right?’ Her stomach curdled at Silvia’s tone. They’d spoken only yesterday. What had happened since to put the fear in her mother’s voice?
‘I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. What has that man done to you?’
Ravenna stilled in the act of shrugging the rug closer.
‘What man?’
‘Oh, Ravenna!’ It was a wail of horror. ‘So it’s true. I can hear it in your voice.’
‘What’s true? What are you talking about?’ It was impossible Mamma had guessed she was with Jonas. Yet, standing naked, aching in unfamiliar places after his thorough loving, Ravenna felt as if she’d been caught out.
‘Don’t pretend, darling. I know you’re with Jonas Deveson.’
Ravenna sank onto the bed. What on earth was going on?
‘I saw it in a magazine. You and him shopping together.’
‘A magazine?’ It must have been the paparazzi shot that had so surprised her.
‘The press have labelled you his secret girlfriend. They say the pair of you are holing up in a love nest.’ Her voice rose in panic. ‘Tell me it’s not true. Tell me you wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for him.’
Ravenna opened her mouth then shut it again. Everything was moving too fast. She felt dizzy.
‘Ravenna?’ Her voice was sharp. ‘Has he hurt you?’
‘Of course he hasn’t hurt me, Mamma. You’re overreacting. There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Nothing to worry about?’ She could almost see her mother roll her eyes. ‘You’re such an innocent when it comes to men. There’s nothing innocent about the way he’s looking at you in that photo. He looks like he wants to eat you all up.’
Heat scorched Ravenna from her toes to the tips of her ears. That was precisely what Jonas had done, using his mouth on her body to reduce her to quivering desperation.
‘Ravenna.’ Her mother’s voice, now quiet, vibrated with worry. ‘Tell me you didn’t fall for his lies.’
‘Jonas isn’t a liar, Mamma.’
‘Oh, Ravenna! You did, didn’t you?’
Ravenna squared her shoulders. ‘I’m twenty-four, Mamma, not a little girl. Jonas hasn’t hurt me.’ Given her mother’s response to that innocent photo, now wasn’t the time to reveal the whole truth. Her mother would hotfoot it to England and that would set the cat among the pigeons. Much as Ravenna wanted to see her, Silvia was safer in Italy. ‘I’m...working for him, as a temporary housekeeper.’
‘That’s the job you were excited about?’ Silvia was disbelieving. ‘You vowed never to work in service.’
It was true. Ravenna had determined never to be anyone’s servant after years of being made to feel inferior at school.
But that was before her mother had stolen and put her in a situation where she had to swallow her pride. Mamma had taken the money for her. This was her responsibility.
‘Jonas is hosting a ball to reopen the Hall and I’m doing the catering. It will be a great opportunity to showcase my skills.’ Ravenna was babbling but couldn’t stop. Maybe because she was naked, her body tingling from his touch. ‘I hope it will be a stepping stone to other jobs.’
Her mother sighed. ‘Promise me you’ll keep your distance. He hates me and he’d do anything to hurt me. You have no idea how ruthless he is—’ her voice dropped ‘—or how much he despises me. He blames me for his mother’s death. But I swear I had no idea she still cared about Piers. While I was at the Hall all she did was snipe at him. Poor Piers—’
‘I know.’ Ravenna had heard it before, how Piers had fallen in love for the first time ever with her mamma. How happy they’d been. ‘But Jonas can’t hurt me.’
He already had his retribution. What more could he do?
‘Don’t be too sure. Even when he was young he had a way with women, a magnetism that drew them even though it was obvious they were expendable.’
Ravenna bit her tongue rather than snap that if he had, he’d probably got that from his father. Her mother hated hearing anything negative about Piers. He was one of the few subjects they didn’t see eye to eye on.
‘I wouldn’t put it past him to seduce you, just to settle the score. He’s charismatic and persuasive but beneath the charm he’s cold and calculating.’
; ‘Maybe there’s more to him than you think. Besides, it was Piers, not Jonas, who ripped that family apart.’
Silence greeted her words. It was the closest she’d come to criticising Piers to her mother. He’d been good to Silvia and he’d loved her in his own way, but she’d never been comfortable with his irresponsible take on life.
‘I know.’ Her mother’s misery caught at Ravenna’s heart.
‘I’m sorry, Mamma. I—’
‘No, don’t apologise. It’s just I’m worried about you. No matter what you think you know about Jonas Deveson, remember this: he’s an aristocrat through and through. He’s not easy-going like his father. He’s a perfectionist who only settles for the best. To him that means a woman from the right family, with the right connections, the right accent, the right look. You’ll never be that woman. To him you’ll always be the housekeeper’s daughter. Worse, you’re a permanent reminder of me and Piers.’
A weight crushed Ravenna’s chest as she heard her mother say all the things she’d told herself. But that was before—
‘You’ll find the right man one day, Ravenna. But it won’t be Jonas Deveson. At best he’d offer a brief affair. At worst—well, you only have to look into his eyes to understand the meaning of revenge.’
Ravenna swallowed. She’d seen that look. That day in Paris it had transfixed her with a fear she dared not show.
‘I’m sorry, Mamma,’ she said quickly. ‘I have to go. But don’t worry. I’m perfectly able to look after myself.’
So why, when she ended the call, did Ravenna feel shaken to the core? Jonas didn’t love her—she wasn’t that naïve. But there was something between them stronger than prejudice. Something drew them despite the reasons they shouldn’t be together. It was worth exploring.
Tossing aside the rug, Ravenna went to her wardrobe. It was time she squashed those poisonous tendrils of doubt.
She reached for a pair of trousers and paused. Call it feminine pride but she wanted him to look at her with desire. Ravenna pulled out the one decent dress she’d brought.
It felt disturbingly as if she donned protective armour.
