He walked away from her and began talking softly. ‘Let me see, where were we?’
Jade swallowed some of her brandy and the burning liquid to her stomach seemed to revive her. He will not intimidate me, she vowed, wondering why she chose to stay, to lay herself open to the inevitable hurt which would follow, rather than walk right out of that door. But she had to know. ‘You were about to tell me when you found out that I was a journalist,’ she said, amazed her voice should now sound so steady.
‘Ah. Yes. When I began to make my plans to join you in England, I thought that as your pro- spective lover I should surprise you, as lovers often do—to meet you from work with the extravagant bunch of roses. Women appreciate these kind of gestures.’
I’ll bet they do, she thought dully.
‘But you, Jade, surprisingly, had neglected to give me your work number.’ The voice had a steely ring. ‘Not surprisingly, as I now realise. So I rang you at home; late one night. You were not there. Night- clubbing, your flatmate told me. Then I asked her when you’d be back but she didn’t know. Very late, most probably. The early hours.’ The primitive censure in his voice was stark, the accusation plain, and Jade found herself automatically defending herself.
‘There’s no need to make me sound like Mata Hari! It’s my job!’
His mouth tightened. ‘So I believe. Then I asked for your work number—I would ring you first thing. Imagine my astonishment to discover that you work for what can only be loosely described as a newspaper. The kind of newspaper which prints photographs of half-clothed women!’
Which Jade had always hated herself, but she couldn’t really imagine convincing Constantine of that. ‘How come Sandy didn’t tell me any of this? She didn’t mention that you’d rung!’
‘Because I persuaded her not to,’ he said with soft menace. ‘I can be very persuasive, you know.’
Jade’s mind was buzzing. ‘Then today—you being here at the same time as me—you’d—you’d actually followed me?’
An expression of scorn mocked her. ‘Followed you? After discovering that? No, I often stay at the Granchester when I’m in London.’ He gave her a black look which could have come from the devil himself before continuing.
‘No, Jade, my being here today was purely co- incidence. Coincidence,’ he reiterated savagely. ‘The weapon of the gods. And that coincidence enabled me to see just how far you would go to get a story with that ridiculous singer downstairs whom you allowed to touch you so freely. But it did not sur- prise me. After all—you offered yourself to me without any of the normal persuasion a man has to use to bed a woman. Was that your brief? Is that what your editor instructed you to do? To get your interview with me—come’ and here his voice twisted with derision ‘—what may,’ he finished softly.
She had never been so hurt and disgusted in her life, nor so angry. Too angry to question his absurd suggestion that she had been sent to Greece to in- terview him, for heaven’s sake. Why on earth should she? A red flare of pure temper erupted and misted in front of her eyes, and she slammed her tumbler down on to one of the small tables and launched herself at him, wanting to punch him, kick him, scratch him, wound him as he had wounded her, but he was ready for her. His palms came up to deflect her flailing hands, then with a swift movement he had captured both her hands in one strong hand, holding them high above her head.
She tried to twist, to lock one leg behind his in classic judo position, but he had countered with the reverse movement and with his other hand he held her waist in a vice-like grip, bringing her close into his body, and she felt his hardness pushing against her. She stared up in him in horrified disbe- lief to realise that even after all his vile insults he still wanted her; wanted her very badly indeed, and then all thought flew from a mind already pun- ished by the onslaught of emotion as he bent his head to take her mouth in a savage kiss.
Jade opened her lips to protest as Constantine’s mouth brutally ground into hers but the movement condemned her for he quickly used his tongue to sweeten the assault.
Oh, no, she thought desperately, but the half- hearted struggle she gave only reminded her all too clearly just how aroused he was, and her body re- sponded like a betraying stranger, so that she gave a tiny cry, a mixture of anguish and desire as she felt her breasts becoming heavy, their tips hard and painful and jutting against the thin silk of his shirt; and they were so sensitive and aware that through them she could feel the thick carpet of hair which roughened his chest.
The pressure on her mouth never ceased, and something was happening to her; something way beyond her control. For his hungry, savage need was matched by her own, overpowering her until she was nothing but a slave to her own desire. Be- cause she needed him. Needed the man she knew lay beneath this punishing exterior. She wanted the real Constantine back, the man she had grown to love in a few short idyllic days. Surely he couldn’t throw all that promise away—that mutual passion which happened once in a lifetime, and only then if you were very lucky? But when his hand moved down to touch her breast she stopped thinking altogether—about past or future, right or wrong, because nothing that felt this good could possibly be wrong.
It was as though he sensed her mental surrender, for he gentled the kiss to one of such poignant sweetness that Jade felt a strange, lingering sense of triumph, knowing that all could not be lost if he could kiss her like that. A proud man like Constantine, who could call a halt on the brink of rapture as he had done on the island—he would not be governed by the needs of his body alone. Dared she hope that he still cared for her? Still loved her?
She realised that he had freed her hands, that they had fallen to rest on the broad spread of his shoulders, and her fingers automatically began rhythmically to massage at the solid wall of muscle, loving the warm feel of his strength, longing to touch his naked skin instead.
He pulled his mouth away from hers. ‘Come,’ he commanded, his voice an unsteady, uneven rasp.
She had thought that he would take her into the bedroom, but he did not; instead he pushed aside the linen jacket which he had thrown down so casually, and moved her on to the sofa, which was scarcely wide enough for them both, forcing him to lie above her, his eyes staring down at her; hot, black coals which burned into her heart but told her nothing.
She stared back at him, her slanting eyes nar- rowing with confusion, wondering whether she was doing the most stupid thing imaginable, and yet rejoicing in the feel of his hard body pressed so intimately close to hers. Knowing that even if the hotel were falling down all around them she simply did not have the power to walk away from this.
He bent his head to hers, and with sweet sav- agery kissed away her final doubts. She locked her arms about his neck, her legs parting to receive his thrusting thigh. She did not know how long he kissed her for; she sensed his body’s impatience, but none of that was evident in the honeyed se- duction of his kiss. She felt an aching pull in the apex of her thighs, felt her breasts swell until it was almost too much to bear, and she began to move restlessly, her senses orchestrating these new move- ments as though she had been born to do only this.
And only then did he touch her breast again; little stroking movements, circling round and round the nipple through her shirt until she thought that she would die; and precisely as she thought it he captured the nipple between thumb and forefinger, rubbing it so that it stood even prouder, aching desperately to be freed of the confines of bra and shirt. ‘Constantine!’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Constantine.’
His fingers never ceased, but he drew his mouth away from hers to look down at her as he touched her, his face starkly unfamiliar with passion, a rigid mask kept only under control by the restraint he was obviously exercising on his own needs.
‘You like it?’ He sounded almost casual.
‘It’s—heaven,’ she breathed, but he shook his head.
‘Not heaven. Not yet. Heaven comes later.’ He moved his hand away from her nipple and she made a little moan of protest, but her mouth softened in
to a smile of anticipation as she realised that he was only doing so in order to unbutton her shirt, which he did slowly, degree by teasing degree until her small breasts, encased in a tiny sheer black lace and silk bra, thrust towards him for his delectation.
She didn’t know what caused it, but his face darkened; his eyes like the blackest recesses of hell as he stared down at the flimsy, totally inadequate piece of underwear.
‘What is it?’ she asked him, her question husky, because her lips were swollen and tender from so much kissing.
For answer, he flicked at one nipple in a gesture which was almost casual, though the unsteadiness in his voice belied it. ‘Do you always dress to tanta- lise, agape mou?’ And then when she made no answer, began to speak again, as if to himself. ‘I find myself wanting to rip this foolish little garment from your body. Shall I do that?’
But she didn’t want her underwear torn off; not the first time. She wanted his gentleness; his understanding.
‘Don’t,’ she said shakily.
His eyes narrowed as instead he unclipped it at the front, pushing the filmy fragments aside before lowering his head to take one swollen bud into his mouth with the gentleness she had dreamed of, and her head tipped back and she cried out as he made the slowest and most excruciatingly exciting journey from breast to breast, until she realised that she was pushing her hips into his, driven on by some urge she neither knew nor understood.
He moved away then, and she looked up to see that his face was grim as he pulled off his tie and tossed it away. ‘Unbutton my shirt,’ he ordered softly.
She hesitated, momentarily stricken by doubts, and he watched her from between narrowed eyes before briefly bending his head to suckle at her nipple, and Jade felt a sharp surge of pleasure, her doubts forgotten.
‘Do it,’ he urged huskily.
With faltering fingers, she started to undo his shirt, stumbling a little as she reached the last button because it was tucked beneath the belt of his trousers.
‘Take it off,’ he whispered, but she lowered her eyes as she did so. ‘So shy, agape mou?’ he queried mockingly.
For answer, she pulled the shirt off and let it flutter to the floor, and laid her head dreamily against his bare chest, running her cheek up and down it, her fingers losing themselves in the dark whorls of hair, just as they’d done so often in her dreams.
He found the side button of her skirt, and then unzipped it with ease, pulling it down past her knees until he could impatiently toss it aside, and she was left wearing nothing but a tiny pair of black silk panties which matched the flimsy bra.
He said something in Greek then, something very soft which she would have given her heart to understand, and his hand slid down to the soft skin of her inner thigh, teased her there until she moved so that his fingers would touch her where she most needed to be touched, and she heard him give a soft laugh as his fingers moved inside her panties, his hand at last on her moist, heated flesh, and he bent his head to her ear when he heard her helpless moan of pleasure.
‘You want me, very much, agape mou?’
But Jade couldn’t even nod; he was working some kind of magic with his hands, sending her out of her mind, so that she didn’t feel like Jade Meredith at that moment, she was being reborn in Constantine’s arms and she wondered whether the world would ever be the same place again.
He slid the panties down her legs and threw them off the sofa, while his other hand unbuckled the belt of his trousers, and she heard the zip being drawn down and her heart started beating even more frantically. He moved away to remove the last of his clothing and Jade lay there naked, but not in the least bit shy as she watched the formidable power of him springing free. She’d never seen a man naked before, and yet it felt so right. She al- lowed her eyes to feast themselves on his magnifi- cent frame, on the massively muscular shaft of his thighs; on the narrow hips and the powerful evi- dence of his sex. And when he moved on top of her she revelled in the feel of his naked body on hers, of breast touching breast, belly on belly, thigh against thigh. She sighed on a broken little note of wonder.
He kissed her and touched her and she ap- proached some unimaginably beautiful brink time after time, so that by the time he thrust powerfully into her, she was so ready for him, so at one—that there was none of the imagined pain. Indeed, she seemed to know instinctively what to do, entwining her thighs around his bare back so that each thrust went deeper and deeper, and she found herself thrusting back against each movement of his, until she reached the brink once again. But this time it was different; this time he didn’t hold back, just kept on moving and moving inside her, harder and harder, until she tumbled over, crying out with wonder and relief as the first great wrenching spasm pulled ecstatically at her womb, and then he too uttered a word which sounded almost like a protest before he shuddered helplessly against her, and she locked her arms around him protectively until she felt him finally still inside her.
There was silence for a moment. His heartbeat sounded muffled and heavy as it gradually slowed down to something approaching normality.
Jade nestled her face luxuriously against his neck, lifting her mouth up to plant a lazy kiss there, when he forestalled her by withdrawing himself from her abruptly, his face averted, before getting up off the sofa.
Aware of the flush which had pinkened her neck and of her nakedness, so noticeable now that he had left her, Jade stared up at him in disbelief. ’Constantine?’
He didn’t even look round. ‘What?’ he asked indifferently.
‘Where are you going?’
The unbelievable was happening. He had started to pull on his trousers, and as he zipped them up he turned to look down at her, his face as for- bidding as the devil’s. ‘I’m going to take a shower, then a nap. I don’t know about you—’ and he gave a lazy, insulting yawn ‘—but I feel I could sleep for a week.’ His eyes glittered. ‘But then good sex always makes me feel like that.’
Jade sat up, still not believing what she was hearing, and, seeing his eyes drawn to her still- naked breasts, she grabbed at her blouse in an at- tempt to cover herself.
His mouth twisted with a cruel kind of satisfac- tion. ‘Oh, don’t bother covering up, agape mou. I’ve seen it all, touched it all, tasted it all. Here,’ and he bent to pick up her discarded clothes and threw them to land in her lap. ‘Put your clothes on and get out of here.’ And he began to turn away.
Filled with the most bitter, humiliating rage, Jade pulled on her panties and bra and haphazardly but- toned up her blouse, before leaping up to confront him. ‘How dare you? You lousy’
But he held one palm up with the calm authority of a policeman stopping traffic. ‘Please, no. We’ve done all that once and once was enough,’ he said, in a bored sounding voice. ‘Your pretended viol- ence served its purpose—it provoked me into taking you.’
Her anger became something concrete to focus on, because the alternative to anger was tears, and she would sooner die than give him the pleasure of letting him see her cry. She swallowed, but her voice was mercifully steady. ‘Let me get this straight, Constantine—you’ve just been to bed with me, and now you’re asking me to leave?’
He shook his head. ‘But that’s where you’re wrong, Jade. On both counts. I haven’t taken you to my bed—I’ve just had sex with you. And I’m not asking you to leave—I’m telling you.’ He gave a brief glance at his watch. ‘If you get a move on you might be able to catch the man who was em- bracing you so fondly in the foyer earlier.’
Jade stared at him. Was he referring to the creepy Russ Robson putting his arm around her waist? ‘You can’t honestly believe that I’d have…that I’d go anywhere near Russ Robson after what’s just happened between us?’ she demanded hotly.
He gave her a cool, steady stare. ‘Can’t I?’ he queried softly. ‘Who knows what I should believe about you, Jade? I was even lulled into believing that you were virtuous—’
Her eyes widened. ‘And n-now you’re implying that I’m not—?’
His eyes were cold and unblinking, and Jade was reminded of the dangerous stillness of a snake.
‘No implication. Statement of fact. Might I suggest that next time you try and convince a man you’re a virgin you try to feign a little innocence. Virgins don’t usually make love with the kind of panache and fervour which you have just demon- strated.’ And he began to turn away again.
Jade tasted salt at the back of her throat. ‘You’re sick,’ she told him.
‘Wrong. I am not sick, merely weary—of you. Now, are you going to go quietly, or do I have to ring down and ask Security to remove you?’
It was only by imagining a wax figure of him harpooned by pins, while pulling the rest of her clothes on, that Jade could stop herself from breaking down in front of him. She knew that he watched her, but she didn’t dare look at him. Be- cause if she looked at him she might just rake her fingernails all down that arrogant face of his.
It was only as she began to open the door that she looked at him, hatred burning from her eyes. ’Oh, Constantine,’ she said softly.
The black eyes glittered as he raised his eyebrows in arrogant query. ‘What is it?’
‘I hope you rot in hell!’ she shot, as, back erect, she walked out of his suite and slammed the door shut on his low, mocking laughter.
CHAPTER FIVE
JADE left Park Lane and walked and walked and walked, her body still aching and tingling, her mind in tatters—willing the tears not to come, because she suspected that if she started crying she might never stop. Eventually she found herself back at the offices of the Daily View, aware that the other members of staff were staring at her as though she’d just landed in an alien spaceship. And then she caught a sight of herself in one of the mirrors and immediately knew why; she was in shock. White- faced and distraught, she stared numbly while Maggie, the Daily View’s female boss, came bustling out of her office and propelled Jade inside.
I’m living my nightmare, thought Jade dully, as she stared in disbelief at the black and white photos which lay scattered all over Maggie’s desk.
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