Susan Stephens - Susan Stephens Selection - The French Count's Mistress / The Spaniard's Revenge / Virgin for Sale / Bedded by the Desert King

‘Oh, really?’ she challenged.

‘Really. And you will do what I say,’ he added with the force of inborn authority.

She should have moved then—moved as soon as she saw the expression in his eyes warning her that he was brutally aroused—and not just by the conflict between them. She knew she should struggle, but his hands were too skilful and knew her too well. Their touch was so light and seductive and she had waited so long. Holding her locked in the arrogance of his heated gaze, Guy began to feather touches across her shoulders and down her arms. He had no need to do more. She came to him willingly, eagerly, surprising them both with the force of her desire.

‘No,’ he murmured sternly, holding her away from him. ‘Not here and not now.’ And, easing her arms away from his neck, he took her by the hand and led her out into the garden again. Fountains were playing a soothing tune in hidden courtyards and the scent of lavender hung heavily in the air as he took her through an iron gate that led into a large cobbled yard in the gardeners’ kingdom. He kept her close by his side as he took her down a flight of steep stone steps and Kate was forced to cling to his hand as she peered into the gloom, wondering where he was taking her. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the still black night and when they reached the bottom she couldn’t resist an anxious glance back up to the top.

‘Having second thoughts?’ Guy suggested dryly.

‘Certainly not.’ But she was shivering now and not from the cold, for the air was heavy and warm, but from a heady mix of uncertainty, expectation and desire.

Guy’s firm lips curved in a hard smile. ‘Well, if you’re quite sure…’ He pushed open a heavy oak door to reveal a brilliantly lit, château-sized potting shed with a stone floor where row upon row of new young plants on tiered platforms awaited transfer to the flower beds outside. He heard her gasp and turned around. ‘Not quite what you expected?’ he murmured.

It certainly wasn’t. With one of the most beautiful homes in Europe at his disposal it was an odd place for a romantic tryst—if that was what he intended. ‘Are you sure you haven’t brought me down here to lock me in and throw away the key?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ he admitted throwing her a look. ‘Don’t tempt me.’

As he started to walk away from her Kate couldn’t stop herself blurting out, ‘Don’t leave me.’

‘I won’t be long,’ Guy promised. ‘Stay there. You’re not scared, are you, Kate?’ he suggested with a wry twist of his wickedly beautiful mouth.

‘Of course not.’ She had all the same symptoms, though, Kate realised, staring back at him defiantly. Her heart was racing; her lungs were pumping.

‘If you will just excuse me for a few moments,’ he drawled, sketching a mock bow.

Hugging herself for comfort, Kate gazed around. The rows of plants seemed to stretch to infinity, but there were no dark corners so there was absolutely no need for her to be nervous, she told herself firmly as she hummed a tuneless little song. But as the minutes ticked by she thought more than once about tearing back up the stairs and out into the open air again.

‘Thank you for waiting.’

She whirled around at the sound of Guy’s voice, then uttered a short cry. ‘Comtesse de Villeneuve!’ Kate sped across to Guy’s side where his mother stood leaning on her son’s arm, but her attempt at a formal greeting was brushed aside as the Countess drew her into a warm embrace.

‘Thank you so much for coming to the château, Kate, chérie . After the accident—’ The Countess broke off and made a small gesture with one hand as if to signal her inability to discuss the tragedy. ‘I only ever leave my room now to come down and see my plants,’ she explained in a voice husky with emotion. ‘Guy thought I might be on my way down. It’s my usual time.’

‘But you can’t remain isolated like that,’ Kate declared impulsively. ‘You must come to the cottage and visit me.’ She took the old lady’s free hand in a firm grip and squeezed it encouragingly.

‘I never leave the château,’ the Countess explained apologetically, shaking her head. ‘I don’t feel safe—not since the accident.’

‘You’ll feel safe with me,’ Kate promised fervently.

‘We’ll see,’ the Countess said wistfully. ‘Will you take me back now, Guy? Come with us, Kate. Guy will take you home when he has seen me to my room.’

On impulse, Kate lifted the Countess’s hand to her lips. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she said shyly.

The Countess stroked her hand down Kate’s hair as she studied her face with a still clear gaze. ‘And I’ve missed you, my dear Kate. More than you know.’

‘You look as if you’ve lost a penny and found a pound,’ Megan exclaimed as they clashed pots together in the sink the next morning.

Kate touched her hands to her cheeks, remembering her visit with the Countess that had more than made up for her lapse of control with Guy. Fortunately, with his mother uppermost in both their minds, she had been spared his teasing on the drive home. Megan’s face lit up at the news of Kate’s encounter with the Countess. ‘It might not be much,’ she said wisely when Kate explained how short and unusual her visit had been, ‘but it’s the first small step towards recovery. Now we have to persuade her to visit us here at the cottage.’

‘How’s your migraine?’ Kate enquired, although Megan looked as fit as a fiddle.

‘Never mind that. Do I detect a feverish glow in those emerald eyes of yours?’ Megan countered. ‘And don’t tell me that’s a love-bite on your neck?’ she said, furiously working the wire wool over the frying pan.

‘I don’t know what you imagine, but I can assure you that Guy has no romantic interest in me whatever. And, as for a love-bite—’ Fat chance! Kate thought ruefully. ‘I just rubbed myself too hard with the towel this morning after my shower.’

‘If you say so—’

‘I do say so.’

‘Ah, well then.’ Megan sighed. ‘But did my little ruse work?’ she demanded, keeping her eyes fixed resolutely on her task.

‘Your little ruse?’

‘That’s right,’ Megan said as she lifted her head to quiz Kate. ‘You see, I thought that if I just left you with him…’

‘You left me on purpose!’ Kate exclaimed incredulously. ‘How could you do that? How could you leave me alone with Guy?’

‘I made such a mess of everything earlier—scattering those paint brushes—I just thought if I left the two of you alone together it would solve all your problems.’

Kate’s facial expressions ran the gamut from surprise and then on to amusement as she realised what Megan was getting at. ‘What? Buy him off with my body, you mean?’

‘It’s a thought…’

‘Megan! If it was anyone but you…’

‘Well, it isn’t,’ Megan said gruffly.

‘I know,’ Kate said, giving her a hug. ‘You’re as bad as ever.’

‘I certainly hope so.’

‘But, for your information…’

‘Yes?’ Megan prompted eagerly.

‘Nothing happened,’ Kate said flatly. And that was all she was prepared to admit, even if Megan was giving her one of her special narrowed eyes looks. And it was thanks to Guy’s self-control rather than her own shaky willpower that she was able to make that proud assertion at all, she realised ruefully.

‘Pity.’

‘You’re impossible, Megan O’Reilly.’ Kate sighed with exasperation. ‘Sleeping with Guy isn’t the answer.’

‘Not for you, maybe, but for every other woman on the planet.’

‘He doesn’t want me, I’ve told you that already,’ Kate asserted, determined to shoot Megan’s grand plan out of the sky once and for all. ‘He’s only playing games with me—just like he always has done. And, if following some extreme lapse of judgement I did sleep with him, how do you think he would react when he found out that I had pulled the wool over his eyes?’