An Enticing Debt to Pay

by Annie West

  Jonas’ chest tightened, squeezing his heart into a racing beat. The arousal he hadn’t felt when embracing Helena surged hard and fast in his groin, betraying the need he hadn’t been able to banish.

  Ravenna looked good enough to eat. Heat swamped him and suddenly his bespoke tailoring seemed too tight. He wanted to rip his collar undone and shrug out of his jacket.

  Then what? Stalk across and haul her to him so her audience knew she wasn’t available?

  To hell with the crowd, he wanted to hold her for the sheer satisfaction of having her where he wanted her.

  The realisation hit in a blinding flash.

  She turned again and her skirt belled out. Unlike most of the gowns hers ended at the knees, revealing smooth, shapely calves. She wore no jewellery except glittering earrings, but she didn’t need any. She looked graceful and gorgeous with her cap of dark curls and pale gold skin.

  Jonas frowned. That dress! What had happened to the one he’d bought? He surged forward.

  ‘Jonas? Is everything all right?’

  Helena’s voice recalled him to sense. He slammed to a halt and turned, fixing on a stiff smile.

  ‘Of course. I just wanted a word with my housekeeper but it can wait.’ Though the effort of holding back almost killed him.

  ‘Is that her? In the brocade? That material is just gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  Unaware of their gaze Ravenna left the group and crossed the room only a few feet away. She was deep in conversation with one of Jonas’ business associates, who looked far too suave and smug as he separated her from the crowd.

  As they passed the light caught the material of her dress. Jonas blinked, not believing what he saw.

  ‘I believe it’s quite unique,’ he muttered.

  Damn! It was unique. It had been woven especially to a design by his artist great-grandmother. Until a couple of weeks ago it had hung in one of the massive state rooms.

  Ravenna had rejected his gift—the best Paris fashion had to offer—and instead swanned around his home wearing discarded curtains!

  His hands clenched in fists that shook with outrage. So much for his conciliatory gift! Did she deliberately try to provoke? And the way she flaunted herself, monopolising the unattached men!

  ‘I should go and congratulate her,’ Helena said. ‘She’s done a fantastic job here.’

  ‘Later, Helena.’ With a mighty effort Jonas unclenched his teeth. ‘Let’s get you that drink first.’

  * * *

  Ravenna paused in an alcove off the ballroom, catching her breath. It had been months since she’d mixed with more than a handful of people at a time. The London restaurant kitchen with its frantic pace seemed light years ago.

  She’d enjoyed herself tonight. When she’d admitted she was the housekeeper many had congratulated her on her work and plied her with questions about the restoration. One or two men had even been a little too attentive, which, while awkward, had done wonders for her bruised ego.

  There’d been raised eyebrows among the society women though, and pointed looks at her home-made dress and extra height. Those stares reminded her of childhood peers who’d claimed she’d overstepped the line, presuming to socialise with them.

  But Ravenna was no insecure child now. She’d responded with cool courtesy and moved on, refusing to let prejudice spoil the only ball she’d ever attend. Yet the experience reinforced everything she’d known. Jonas moved in a different world. She was an outsider here and always would be.

  Her gaze zeroed in on the couple at the top of the ballroom. He was tall and commanding while she, in figure-hugging midnight satin, was the epitome of cool, English beauty.

  Jonas Deveson and Helena Worthington, looking the perfect couple. Her hand was on his sleeve as she leaned in, wearing a private smile.

  A hot knife of jealousy sliced Ravenna’s breast. Was that the woman Jonas would marry? The press thought so and guests had speculated about an engagement announcement.

  Ravenna couldn’t even dislike the woman. She was pleasant and charming, with a down-to-earth friendliness. Ravenna could imagine her here with Jonas and their brood of children. Helena would probably even take to Hector and Timothy.

  Ravenna lifted her glass of vintage champagne, trying to wash away the sour tang on her tongue.

  What had she expected? That after all that had gone wrong between them, Jonas would feel the same unsettling yearning Ravenna did? That he’d want her over the woman who was patently perfect for him?

  She took another sip of the effervescent wine, letting it fizz on her tongue then slide down her aching throat.

  Across the room Jonas turned and unexpectedly their eyes locked. Ravenna’s breath stopped as lightning arced through her veins. Her toes curled as if she’d touched a live wire. Her whole body hummed with awareness.

  His dark eyebrows came down in a straight line of disapproval.

  He couldn’t know how she felt. He couldn’t! So why was he annoyed? The answer was easy. The sight of her discomfited him. The sooner she left, the better.

  Her breath caught on something suspiciously like a sob. She turned abruptly to find herself against a solid chest.

  ‘Ravenna?’ It was Adam Renshaw, the horticulturalist. His friendly smile was balm to her tattered soul. ‘I’ve been looking for you. Would you like to dance?’

  ‘Thank you, Adam.’ Ravenna was fed up with herself—pining for what she could never have. She had to move on with life. Defiantly she drained her glass and put it down with a sharp click, ignoring the slightly foggy feeling of a little too much champagne. ‘I’d love to dance.’

  * * *

  Ravenna switched off the last of the lights and stood in the vast, empty ballroom, revelling in the silence. The ball had been a huge success and she’d enjoyed it, she assured herself, ignoring the pain clutching her chest.

  She’d danced for hours and instead of being relegated to the kitchens she’d indulged in champagne and caviar, in a midnight supper on the terrace with Adam and then more dancing. She smoothed her hands down the heavy silk of her skirt, trying to focus on the evening’s pleasures rather than the dragging feeling of disappointment that weighted her.

  ‘You’ve been avoiding me.’

  Hand to her throat, she spun towards the door.

  A shadow detached from the inky gloom of the wall and blocked her path. Ravenna’s heart lurched then thumped against her ribs in a too-familiar needy rhythm.

  ‘You startled me.’

  ‘Did you really expect to keep your distance all night?’ She couldn’t read Jonas’ expression in the dark but his voice had an edge that cut.

  ‘Why not?’ Pride lifted her chin. ‘You were busy with your guests. And I didn’t need looking after.’

  ‘So I noticed.’ He stepped closer, his form growing in bulk as he approached. Even in her heels she felt dwarfed by him, weakened, as if he sucked the energy from the air between them. ‘You let Renshaw monopolise you.’

  Ravenna stood straighter. ‘Adam and I have a lot in common.’

  ‘He’ll be moving on to the next job, Ravenna.’ Was that a warning in his stern tone? ‘He won’t stick around.’

  ‘Nor will I.’ She’d leave as soon as it was daylight. Seeing Jonas and Helena together had been the impetus she’d needed.

  He raised an arm as if to touch her then let it drop. ‘You’re going together?’

  Ravenna frowned, hearing an unfamiliar note in his voice. ‘I thought we’d agreed that what I do from here on is my own business, not yours.’

  Jonas’ breath hissed between his teeth. ‘I see.’ There was a wealth of disapproval in those two syllables. ‘So that’s why you didn’t wear the dress I gave you.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘If you and Renshaw are an item h
e’d wonder why you wore clothes bought by another man.’

  Jonas’ words confirmed her decision not to accept his gift. There was something far too intimate about accepting such a present.

  ‘Adam had nothing to do with my decision. He and I aren’t “an item” as you put it.’ Pride wouldn’t let her hide behind such a deception.

  Jonas stalked closer, a hint of his male scent making her nostrils flare.

  ‘You could have fooled me, the way he kept touching you.’

  ‘We were dancing! That’s what people do when they dance.’ He was a fine one to talk. She’d seen the way he held Helena. ‘I’m going to bed now.’

  ‘Alone?’ He moved in front of her as she tried to sidestep and her heart slammed against her ribs. Ravenna sensed tension in him, an aggression that made her neck prickle.

  ‘My movements have nothing to do with you.’ Why did that hurt so much, even now? She had to get over this...obsession.

  Still he stood unmoving, his bulk blocking her exit.

  Ravenna tried to tell herself it was anger stirring butterflies the size of kites in her stomach. ‘Instead of giving me the third degree why don’t you go to bed? Helena will wonder what’s keeping you.’ The words shot out on a burst of bravado that left her feeling hollow.

  ‘Helena’s gone.’

  ‘Gone? But she was with you, farewelling the guests.’ Ravenna had tried not to notice how the blonde beauty had lingered. She’d headed to the kitchens to supervise the packing up so she didn’t have to watch the pair.

  ‘Nevertheless, she’s gone.’ His tone had a ring of finality.

  ‘I should go too.’ The air was fraught with tension that sent quivers through her body. Jonas was so close she saw his eyes gleam. If she leaned in they’d touch. She felt his proximity from her tingling lips to her budding nipples and lower, where desire spiralled deep.

  His arm snapped out and long fingers circled her bare arm in a bracelet of fire.

  ‘Let me go.’ She tried to keep her voice even but it came out in a rush of breathless energy.

  ‘Not till you tell me what’s going on. Why aren’t you wearing my dress?’

  Ravenna tried and failed to tug her arm free. Desperation rose. She needed to get away.

  ‘Because it would mark me as yours, bought as easily as any other commodity.’ She shook her head, trying to find her voice in a throat choking closed on a rush of emotion. ‘I know you didn’t do it because you want me. Only because you want to be rid of me. But—’ she drew a ragged breath and met his eyes ‘—I am not for sale. You don’t need to buy me with anything. I told you we were quits. I won’t wear your guilt.’

  His hand slid up her arm to close on her shoulder. Hard fingers spanned her bare flesh, warming it against the chill inside her.

  ‘You’re wrong.’ His voice was a low throb, brushing like velvet across her skin and making her shiver. Ravenna squeezed shut her eyes. He only had to speak and she weakened! And his touch...this was impossible.

  ‘Let me go, Jonas.’

  For answer he lifted his other hand and cupped her face, his hand engulfing her jaw, imprisoning her so she had no option but to lift her head towards his.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ he said again and this time she heard a tremor in that deep, rich voice. It mirrored the shiver in his long fingers. ‘I do want you, Ravenna. I’ve never stopped wanting you. Seeing you tonight only confirmed it.’

  Stunned, Ravenna stared up at him.

  * * *

  Jonas stared back, committing every detail of her face to memory, his mind supplying the detail the darkness hid. He knew her features as well as his own.

  His hand at her shoulder slid down, shaping the supple curve of her back and dragging her in against him.

  ‘That’s impossible.’

  His bark of laughter was short and humourless. Jonas pulled her closer, higher, cupping her buttocks in an act of flagrant carnality that set his mind spinning. He’d wanted this so long.

  ‘Impossible? Surely this—’ he thrust his hips forward, melding them in a move that made his head spin ‘—proves it.’

  Her hands clamped his shoulders. To push him away or tug him close? He tightened his grip. No way was she waltzing off to her gardener tonight. Not now. Not when her yielding body told him she wanted him too. A sigh escaped her parted lips and it was music in his ears.

  Fire coursed through his veins. He burned up with need. Touching her, imprinting her against him stoked the flames.

  ‘Ravenna.’ He dipped his head and kissed her neck, triumph filling him as she arched, giving him access to her throat. She tasted sweet as honey, soft and alluring. Impossibly tempting. ‘You want me too. I feel it.’

  Her hands clutched him. One thigh lifted to slide restlessly along his, inflaming his libido. He shook with the force of standing firm, doing no more than taste.

  ‘No. This isn’t right.’ But her voice lacked force. It ended on a sigh when he scraped his teeth along the base of her neck and she shivered voluptuously. ‘What about Helena?’

  ‘I sent her away.’ How could he even think of marrying her when he was consumed by thoughts of Ravenna?

  ‘Away?’ Ravenna stirred in his hold and Jonas squeezed his eyes shut, trying to withstand the excruciating delight of her body moving against his.

  ‘It’s you I want, Ravenna. All night I’ve watched you, wishing I was with you. Wishing we were alone so I could do this.’ He bent his head and traced the neckline of her dress down to the delicious swell of her breast, fuller now that she wasn’t so waiflike. Her gasp of pleasure as he suckled her through the fabric set his blood roaring. He remembered the taste of her naked breast and needed it now.

  In one urgent move Jonas backed her against the wall.

  ‘You want me too. Don’t you?’ Her body responded to his, arching into his touch, but he needed to hear it. ‘Ravenna.’ His voice shook with the force of holding back. He was on the edge, never so inflamed by desire as now, holding Ravenna’s slim form, tasting the musky note of arousal on her skin. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I can’t.’ Her voice was a thready whisper.

  Jonas blinked and lifted his head to look down at the woman he wanted—no, needed. A sliver of moonlight pierced the gloom, revealing confusion on her fine features. But it also showed the slumberous warmth in her eyes.

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’ He let one hand drop to her leg, drawing her dress inch by inch up her thigh, watching her eyes widen then narrow to hooded slits. Her tongue darted out to slick her bottom lip in unconscious invitation.

  His groin was tight and hard, needy for her. Only her. He pressed close, imprisoning her against the wall, revelling in the way her thighs parted for him. Yes! She wanted him as much as he did her.

  Jonas slid his hand beneath the rucked-up skirt to touch silk stockings then cool flesh. His rough fingers felt clumsy as he circled her inner thigh, drawing another gasp from her.

  ‘Say it, Ravenna.’ She drove him crazy! He stroked up to the apex of her thighs, to brush hot silk and feel her quiver. His ears clogged as his blood pounded. His nostrils filled with the scent of arousal. His body grew rigid with the force of holding back.

  Fear held him. He didn’t trust himself to touch her again. He was too close to losing control.

  The brush of her hand against his shirt came out of nowhere, making him start. Her fingers trailed lower and he was stone, set solid with desperate anticipation.

  Her voice was a ragged whisper that sounded as if it had been torn from her. ‘I shouldn’t but I do. I want you, Jonas.’

  An instant’s shocked stillness then restraint ripped away. Jonas’ fingers tangled with hers, fumbling to undo his trousers. The feel of her nimble hands wrenching open his zip almost tipped him over the edge. And when her cool fingers touched his hot
flesh...

  With a hungry growl he planted his hands at her hips and hiked her up against the wall. Her legs came round his waist in a quick, clumsy movement as between them they hauled her skirt up out of the way. Her breath came in pants that matched his tortured gasps.

  Their eyes locked. Jonas never wanted to look away. When Ravenna looked at him like that he could do anything, be anything she wanted.

  Unsteadily he reached for her, tracing the lace edge of her underwear, pulling it aside. But he couldn’t manage gentle; his hands were too clumsy. He heard tearing and her panties came away in his hand.

  Something flared in her eyes. Something that told him she was excited, not afraid. Her legs tightened around him, and suddenly it was too much. He thrust high and hard, burying himself in her heat. She was all around him, hot silk against his erection, long legs circling his waist, hands cupping the back of his neck.

  ‘You’re mine.’ The words slid through gritted teeth as he thrust again, anchoring her, probing as deep as humanly possible, making her his in the most elemental way.

  ‘Mine,’ he growled, feeling tremors begin deep inside her and knowing a fierce, possessive joy that he did this to her. He brought her bliss. He saw it in her radiant face, heard it in her hoarse voice, shouting his name, felt it in the pulsing climax that rocked her from the inside out. She came so hard and fast he had no time to think before it took him too, overtaking him with a rush of such force, such violent ecstasy, he doubted he’d survive.

  Bracing himself, Jonas rode out a storm of pleasure that wrung every ounce of energy he’d once possessed. It was all he could do to stand. Yet from somewhere he found strength to hold Ravenna. Nothing could have pried her from his possessive grip.

  She was his. Nothing in his life had ever felt so right.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AFTER ANOTHER URGENT coupling, this time on the newly reupholstered sofa, Ravenna lay, pulse racing, weighed down by Jonas’ solid form. He held her close. His head pillowed on her bare breasts, the dark spill of his hair tickling, and his hand splayed possessively at her hip.