Annie West - An Enticing Debt to Pay

Suspicion snaked through him.

He pulled her closer, till her body mirrored his. He felt the tension hum through her. Good! He wanted her unsettled.

‘A girl needs to live, doesn’t she?’ This time there was an edge of desperation in her tone. ‘I’ve had...expenses.’

‘What sort of expenses? Even shopping at the top Parisian fashion houses wouldn’t have swallowed up all that money.’

Her gaze slid from his. ‘This and that.’

A cold, hard weight formed in the pit of Jonas’ belly. He was surprised to feel nausea well.

‘Drugs?’

She shook her head once, then shrugged. ‘Debts.’

‘Gambling?’

‘Why the inquisition? I’ve admitted I took your money. That’s all that matters.’ Her gaze meshed with his and a jagged flash of heat resonated through Jonas. It stunned him.

How could a mere look do that? It wasn’t even a sultry invitation but a surly, combative stare that annoyed the hell out of him.

Yet aftershocks still tumbled through his clenching belly and he found himself leaning closer, inhaling her warm cinnamon and hot woman scent.

This couldn’t be happening.

He refused to feel anything for the woman who’d stolen from him. Especially since she was Silvia Ruggiero’s daughter. The thought of that family connection was like a cold douche.

Deliberately he chose his next words to banish any illusion of closeness. ‘Why steal from me when Piers would have indulged a pretty young thing like you? I’m sure he’d have been amendable to private persuasion.’

‘You’re sick. You know that? Piers was with my mother. He had no interest in me.’ She drew herself up as if horrified. Either she was a brilliant actor or she drew the line at men old enough to be her father.

‘In my experience he wasn’t discriminating.’

Ravenna yanked her hand to free it from his grasp but Jonas wasn’t playing. He wrapped his other arm hard around her narrow back, drawing her up against him.

Just to keep her still, he assured himself.

It worked. With a stifled gasp she froze. Only the quick rise and fall of her breasts against his arm where he still held her hand revealed animation.

‘Speaking from personal experience, are you, Jonas?’ Her voice was all sneer. ‘What are you doing now? Copping a feel?’

His jaw ached with the effort to bite back a retort.

Unlike his father he’d never been a sucker for a pretty face and a show of cleavage. Sure, he appreciated a sexy woman. But he was discriminating, private in his affairs and loyal to whomever he was with. His intellect and his sense of honour took precedence over cheap thrills.

When he married there’d be no shady liaisons on the side, no whispered rumours and knowing looks to embarrass his family. None of the pain to which Piers had subjected them.

Jonas stared down at the firebrand who’d managed to tap into emotions he’d kept safely stowed for years. In one short interlude she’d cut through years of hard-won self-control so he teetered on the brink of spontaneous, uncharacteristic, dangerous action. He almost growled his fury and frustration aloud.

He wanted to lean down and silence her sassy mouth, force those lush lips apart and relieve some of his frustrated temper in steamy passion and a vibrant, accommodating woman.

She’d be receptive, despite that accusatory look. That was what made the idea so tempting. Ravenna might hate him for making her face what she’d done. But it wasn’t merely anger she felt for him—not by a long chalk.

‘Oh, I choose my women very carefully, Ravenna.’ His voice was a low, guttural burr. ‘And I never take anything from a woman that’s not offered freely.’

Dark satisfaction flared as he assessed her reaction with a knowing eye.

He read her rapid breathing and the flush that began at her cleavage and highlighted her cheeks. The way her tongue furtively slicked her lower lip. The indefinable scent of feminine arousal.

‘Really?’ Her breathless challenge didn’t convince. ‘Well, keep that in mind. I’m not offering you anything.’

Jonas was torn between wanting to kiss her senseless and wanting to put her over his knee. He leaned in a fraction and heard her soft exhale of breath. A sigh...of surrender or triumph?

Suddenly it hit him anew that he was in danger of succumbing to the allure of a Ruggiero female. Of an unprincipled thief who threw her crime in his teeth.

Who enticed with her soft body and tell-tale physical signals.

‘Is that so?’ he murmured, knowing he had her measure.

She’d use any tactic to thwart his retribution. Did she aim to play him for an easy mark, as her mother had targeted Piers?

The realisation stilled his impetuous need to taste her. Yet he couldn’t draw back. He was trapped by a hunger sharper and more potent than he’d known in years.

That infuriated him even more than the missing money. He burned with it, the fire in his belly white hot with a virulent mix of lust and self-disgust at his weakness.

Keeping one arm around her back, he released her hand and let his fingers drift. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move, her eyes daring him to do his worst. Because she thought herself immune or because she assumed he wouldn’t rise to her challenge?

His fingers brushed her soft, high breast and moulded automatically to that sweet ripeness. The hard nub of her nipple pressed into his palm and arousal seared his groin. A spasm of something like electricity jerked through his body.

For a breath-stealing moment she stood rigid as if about to lambast him for groping. Her eyes widened in shock, then dropped in heavy-lidded invitation. Her lips parted on a silent sigh. A moment later she shifted, melting against him.

‘Tell me to stop and I will.’

He prayed she wouldn’t.

She opened her mouth but no sound emerged.

The weight of her in his palm, the press of her body, the heady sense of promise thickening the air between them, sapped his resolution.

He was ready to take her up on her unspoken invitation. His body was rock hard with a hunger that was all the stronger for being unexpected. Why not take a little something for himself after she’d taken so much from him? Clearly she expected it, wanted it, if the tremors in her pliant body were any indication.

But that smacked of history repeating itself. The little thief would think he kept his brain between his legs, as his father had when he’d run off with her mother, leaving his responsibilities behind.

Jonas couldn’t let Ravenna enjoy the illusion of triumph. He had too much pride.

He was nobody’s gullible mark.

As she’d learn to her cost.

Gently he squeezed her breast, just enough to elicit a delicate shudder in her fine-boned body and a throaty sigh of delight.

The hairs on his arms prickled and his blood rushed south at the sound of her pleasure. But he refused to respond to the urges of his suddenly intemperate body.

‘You like that, do you, Ravenna?’

Slitted now, her eyes had a glazed look that told its own story. She swallowed convulsively, drawing his attention to the slim length of her pale throat. The collar of her dark jacket sat loose, giving her an air of fragility at odds with the pulse of vibrant life he felt as she arched against him.

He’d pull back soon. In a moment. When he’d allowed himself a single taste...

Cinnamon and feminine spice filled his nostrils as he dipped his head, nudging aside her collar and nipping gently at the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. She shook in his hold, her hand grasping his between them as if for support.

‘No. Please I—’

Her words cut abruptly as Jonas laved the spot, drawing in the sweet taste of her warm skin.

Too late he realised his error, as he angled his head hungrily for a better taste, pressing kisses up her arching throat, past the throbbing pulse to the neat angle of her jaw.