Sarah Holland - The Dominant Male

‘I was right, then,’ he drawled arrogantly. ‘He is a wimp!’

Her eyes flashed angrily up to meet his from under her lashes.

‘Was I right about everything, Rhiannon? Oh, I can see from that look that I was!’ He laughed under his breath as she tried angrily to get away from him. ‘No, you don’t! You’re staying right here until I’ve got what I wanted from you!’

‘You’re never going to get that, Mr Stone!’ she said furiously, fighting to escape those hard fingers. ‘I am engaged to another man. When will you get that through your thick head?’

‘My head is many things, but thick isn’t one of them. And if I want to take you to bed, I damned well will.’

‘The only way you’ll get me into bed is as a corpse!’

‘Oh, you’ll be very much alive. You’ll also be powerless, naked and more than willing.’

Without stopping to think, she moved to slap him hard—and missed.

He was too quick for her, catching her hand at the wrist and leaving her struggling impotently once more while he grinned down at her, amused.

‘Darling!’ he mocked. ‘You don’t have to go to such lengths to show me you’re climbing the walls with sexual frustration.’

‘How dare you speak to me like that?’ she gibbered. ‘How dare you?’

‘Because I want you to be happy, you stupid, obstinate female!’

‘I’ll only be happy when you get out of my life!’

‘I’m here to stay, Rhiannon!’

‘But why? Why? I don’t want you here!’

‘And I don’t want to see a woman like you marrying a pompous, half-witted, sexless little idiot like Bobby—what’s his name?’

‘Pratt,’ she snapped, without thinking of the repercussions, and then realised precisely what she had done.

There was a long, stunned silence. The hot sunlight blazed over them from the wide airy windows and London’s skyscrapers glittered far above the stately white palaces of centuries past.

Gabriel started to laugh. ‘What? You’re kidding me! His name is not Pratt!’

‘It’s not his fault!’ She glared at him furiously.

‘Oh, I quite agree!’ He was laughing so much his powerful chest was shaking. ‘He can’t help being a complete and utter—’

‘Right, that’s it! I am not staying here to listen to my fiancé being insulted by a swine like you!’

‘Oh, come on! Where’s your sense of humour?’ The light in his eyes was so incandescent that it was irresistible to her, making her heart move and her own eyes light up in response to his personality, his wit, his soul. ‘Darling, the man’s been living up to his name for years! You can’t marry him! And I absolutely refuse to allow you to become a Pratt yourself!’

She looked away, obstinately refusing to be moved by him. He could be as charming as he liked. She refused point-blank to be swayed by him.

Apart from that—she had to confess that from the moment she had met Bobby his surname had been one of her strongest objections to him. But she didn’t want Gabriel Stone to know that.

He smiled, his eyes filled with affection. ‘You know what I’m saying is right. So come on…stop fighting me. The cards predicted we’d be lovers. Why don’t you just give in to destiny—and to me?’

‘I’m in control of my destiny,’ she said in a husky voice. ‘Not a set of tarot cards, and certainly not you!’

‘Fine. I want you to be in control of your destiny. It’s your body I’m going to take control of.’

She raised her head. ‘And what if I won’t let you?’

‘Oh, you’ll let me!’ he drawled, eyes hardening to ruthless steel so suddenly that she caught her breath with excitement just to see the different reflections of this multi-faceted man: ‘You’ll let me all right, Rhiannon! I’m going to encourage you to submit—and then I’m going to make a woman out of you!’

‘You think I’d give my consent to that kind of thing?’

‘Even a tiger knows how to roll onto its back and let itself be stroked.’

She was breathless again, staring at his arrogant face, thinking of her first oil painting: a tiger moving stealthily through a darkened jungle towards a dark man asleep beneath a tree. Her tutor had told her that the tiger was herself…a man-eater.

‘Glad to see you’re being more agreeable,’ Gabriel murmured with a smile, misinterpreting her stare. ‘So let’s see what else you’re agreeable to, shall we? We agree, for instance, that you have to take this job. We agree that I currently have total professional control over you. And we also agree that we will one day be lovers.’

‘I never agreed to the last one!’ she told him flatly, lifting her dark head and trying to look convincing.

‘That’s because I’m going to demand submission, darling. And I’ll start on Saturday night, when you arrive at my house.’

‘Ah, yes! Saturday night! I’d forgotten, in all this non-excitement, about your insulting little note and that truly humiliating costume!’

‘But you’ll look sensational,’ he said deeply, and the sudden tenderness of his voice made her heart melt like an ice-cream in a microwave. ‘How can you possibly see that as humiliating?’

She hesitated while her stupid heart carried on melting: ‘I…’ She felt her skin shiver with excitement: ‘Well, I…I just have no intention of wearing it—or of attending your dinner party.’

‘You will, or I’ll have you fired.’

‘Fired!’ She was so furious she could hardly speak coherently. ‘I beg your pardon, Mr Stone, but I am a highly qualified, highly respected woman, and I do not need your say-so to remain employed!’ Her eyes flashed with rage. ‘I can walk into another top job anywhere in advertising, and don’t you forget it!’

‘That may be so.’ His eyes turned ruthless. ‘But I happen to know all about the Moretti account.’

Her breath caught in horror. ‘The Moretti account…?’

‘Mmm. Shall we talk about it alone? Or shall I call Steve back in here to make it a cosy threesome?’

Rhiannon’s face paled with disbelief. He sounded so sure, so arrogant. He must know all the gory details. And she certainly wasn’t about to put it to the test. Not the Moretti scandal…

It had been her first major account as creative director, three years ago. She had been working on a top-secret campaign for Moretti Cars to launch the Panther, a long, sleek sports car they had just built to corner the market in affordable glamour.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.