Susanne James - Undressed by the Billionaire

‘I’m not spying on you,’ Savannah said, raising her voice too. ‘And if it’s these you’re worried about—’

Sucking air between his teeth, Ethan knocked her hand away, but, ignoring him, she reached up anyway. Touching his face with her fingertips, she traced his cruel scars. ‘I don’t see them.’

‘You don’t see them?’ Ethan mimicked scathingly. Rearing back, he turned his face away.

‘No, I don’t.’ Savannah flinched as Ethan walked past her. And flinched again when, having poured a glass of water and drained it, he slammed the glass down so hard she couldn’t believe it hadn’t smashed. ‘It’s no use you trying to shut me out, because I’m not going anywhere, Ethan.’

He remained with his hostile back turned to her. Perhaps she had gone too far this time. Ethan’s massive shoulders were hunched, and his fists were planted so aggressively on a chair back his knuckles gleamed white.

‘Bad enough you’re here,’ he growled without looking at her, ‘But you should have told me you were—’

‘I’m sorry?’ Savannah interrupted, reading his mind. ‘Do you mean I should have told you I was a virgin?’ She waited until Ethan turned to face her. ‘Are you seriously suggesting I should have said, “how do you do, my name is Savannah, and I’m a virgin”?’

‘No, of course not,’ Ethan snapped, eyes smouldering with passion. ‘But if you’d given me at least some intimation, I could have made arrangements for you to stay elsewhere.’

‘In a nunnery, perhaps?’ Savannah cut across him. ‘In a safe place with a chaperon?’

‘And this isn’t safe, and I don’t have a chaperon.’

‘Correct.’

As they glared at each other it soon became apparent that neither one of them was prepared to break the stand-off.

‘And if I tell you I feel quite safe here with you?’

‘And if I tell you that the rest of the world will put a very different construction on your staying here with me?’

‘But I thought you didn’t care about gossip?’ she countered.

‘I care how it affects you.’

‘From the point of view that I’m signed to your record company as the next young singing sensation, which means I must appear to the world to be innocent?’

Ethan took her barbed comment with far better grace than she might have expected. It was almost as if they had got the measure of each other, and for once he was crediting her with some sense—though he drew out the waiting time until her nerves were flayed and tender. Relaxing onto one hip then, he thumbed his chin as the expression in his eyes slowly cooled from passion to wry reflection. ‘That’s a very cynical attitude for a young girl to have.’

‘How many times—?’

‘Must you tell me you’re not the young girl I think you are?’ he supplied in a low voice that strummed her senses.

‘If I’m cynical,’ Savannah countered, ‘Surely you’re the last person who should be surprised?’

‘I’m going to say this as clearly as I can.’ Ethan’s voice held a crushing note of finality. ‘I don’t want you here. Please leave now.’

She waited a moment too, and then said, ‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ Savannah repeated. ‘You’re asking me to believe I must do everything you say. Well, standing my ground where you’re concerned might not be a big thing in your world, or easy in mine, but it has to be a whole lot better than agreeing to be your doormat.’

‘Have you quite finished?’ he demanded.

‘I’ve barely started,’ she assured him, but even she could see there was little point in pursuing this if she couldn’t persuade Ethan to see her in a different light.

And she couldn’t. He pointed to the door.

Lifting her head, she wrapped what little dignity she had left around her and walked towards it—but when she reached it she just had to know: ‘What’s wrong with me, Ethan?’

‘Wrong with you?’ He frowned.

‘Is it because I’m not pretty enough, not desirable enough, or is it the fact that I’m not experienced and savvy enough when it comes to handling situations like this?’

‘Savannah, there is no situation—other than my increasing impatience with you, which means there may soon be a situation, and it will be one you won’t like.’

Walking over to the door, Ethan opened it for her. ‘Goodnight, Savannah.’

Ethan felt nothing for her and she had no answer to that. She was so lacking in female guile, she had no tricks up her sleeve, and it was too late to wish she’d learned them before she’d come here.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Ethan demanded when she turned around and walked back in the room.

If he wanted her out, he was going to have to throw her out, and something told her he wouldn’t do that. Now she just had to hope she was right.

He shook his head. ‘Savannah, you are the most difficult, the most stubborn—’

‘Individual in the world aside from you?’ She held Ethan’s gaze along with her breath, and sent a plea into the ether. If there was anyone listening out there, anyone at all …

‘I was about to say, the most annoying guest I’ve ever had. You will have noted my use of the past tense, I hope?’

‘You can’t just dismiss me.’

‘Watch me. Out,’ he rapped, employing the full force of his laser stare.

‘Why are you so angry all the time?’

‘Why are you so slow to take a hint?’

‘Well, clearly my experience of men is somewhat limited, but if you’d just allow me to—’

‘To do what?’ he cut across her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

‘Spend time with you?’ Savannah trembled as she clutched on to this last all-too-brittle straw.

Ethan’s laugh was scathing. ‘You must think I make a habit of courting trouble. Out.’ He pointed to the door.

‘Can’t we even have one last drink together?’

‘Gin and tonic?’ he mocked.

‘If you like.’

‘I don’t like. Now, go to bed.’

He closed the door with relief. Leaning back against it, he let out a groan of relief. Mentally, physically, he was in agony. He shouldn’t even be thinking this way about Savannah. And now he knew she was a virgin he had even less excuse—though how to stop erotic images of her flooding his mind was something he had no answer for. He wanted her. Wanted her? He ached for her. The urge to lose himself in her was overwhelming him, but he couldn’t feed on perfection, or drain her innocence to somehow dilute the ugliness inside him.

That was a wound of such long standing he doubted he’d ever be rid of it. It had taken seed in him the day he’d realised his mother had chosen his stepfather over her seven-year-old son, and had germinated on the day she’d seen his bruises in the bath. Instead of questioning them, she had told him she’d take his bike away if he wasn’t more careful. Had she really believed the buckle marks on his back had come from a fall? That bitterness was in full flower by the time he’d been ready to make his own way in the world, and those dark secrets had stayed with him. Would he share a legacy like that with Savannah? Not a chance. She was like a ray of light with her whole life in front of her, and he would do anything to protect her. He would do nothing to stop that little candle throwing its beam around the world.

Pulling away from the door, he thrust his hands through his hair with frustration. He wanted Savannah. He wanted to make love to her. The most important thing to him was that Savannah remembered the first time she made love for the right reasons.

He tensed, hearing her footsteps returning. That sound was shortly followed by a tap on the door. ‘Yes?’

‘Ethan, it’s me.’

‘What do you want?’ He tried to sound gruff. Had she forgotten something? He glanced round the room, already knowing it was a vain hope. He opened the door. She looked like a pale wraith beneath the lights she had insisted on, and they were blazing full in his face. He hardly cared or noticed these days when people turned away from him, but he noticed tonight that Savannah didn’t flinch. ‘What do you want?’ he said wearily.