"You're lying," Damien snapped. "You're
lying and I know it."
Sable stiffened. "How?"
He laughed, the sound incredibly weary. "Sometimes
your face is so open and clear, it reflects your every thought. Your eyes
grow soft, like a rich black mist. And other times the light fades from your
eyes and there's nothing there, no thought, no emotion, just this...murky
emptiness. And that's when I know you're lying."
She lowered her gaze, appalled that her most
intimate thoughts and feelings were so easily read by him. "Please, Damien.
I'd rather not discuss that particular phone call."
"Then let's discuss Luther. This entire situation
reeks of a conspiracy. Why not admit it?"
He taunted her deliberately, she could tell. He
wanted to assess her reaction. She looked at him, suppressing her fear,
forcing herself to deal with the problem with calm resourcefulness. "You
suspect there's been a leak, don't you?" she asked, cutting to the bottom
line.
"You're damned right I do. I've spent the past
twenty-four hours looking into it. And I've discovered that this isn't the
only account we've lost. There have been four others in the past year. An
interesting pattern, wouldn't you say?"
That did take her by surprise. "So many? I had no
idea. Do you really think those others had information leaked, too?"
"Too?" he questioned sharply, her comment clearly
condemning her. "So you do think A.J. Construction had inside information on
the Luther project."
She sighed in defeat. She shouldn't have had quite
so much of Nikolai's Nectar. She certainly shouldn't have followed it with
several glasses of champagne, not when she needed to keep her wits about her
in order to deal with Damien. "Ryan's looking into the possibility. At least
he is with Luther." Her brows drew together. "It worries me, though, that
you think they're all connected."
"It should worry you more that I think you might be
responsible," he retorted.
Her mouth tightened. "Is that what you plan? To
blame me like last time?"
"Ah, but you were guilty last time."
She pushed back her chair and stood, crossing to the
window. Lights from numerous boats twinkled out on the bay, though fog
concealed most of the view. "I'd like to leave," she stated quietly,
wrapping her arms around her waist.
His reflection appeared just behind her. "Running
away, Sable?"
"I prefer to call it a temporary retreat. I'm tired
and need time to regroup." She swung around. "I want you to think about
something, though. If I leaked that information, what possible motivation
could I have?"
"I don't know," he conceded slowly. "But then, it
took me a while to figure out your motivation before." He dropped his hands
on her shoulders, drawing her close. "You better not be responsible for the
leak. Because this time I won't hesitate to press charges. And then you
won't have to worry about selling me your shares. You'll lose them to me."
She didn't fight him as she should. Exhaustion
gripped her and she relaxed against him, resting her head in the crook of
his shoulder. Just for a minute she'd close her eyes and pretend his hold
was an embrace, and his intent to comfort rather than accuse.
You better not be responsible for the leak. His
words rang in her ears. She had so little time left to uncover the actual
villain and vindicate herself. Unfortunately, she couldn't expect any help
from Damien. Tears pricked her eyes. "Maybe I should just sell out now."
"You can. But I'll put a clause in the sales
agreement. If you're guilty, the deal's off."
She glanced up at him. "Then I'll have to find the
real culprit, won't I?"
He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her jaw.
"Are you sure she isn't right here?"
"Positive," she said without hesitation.
He didn't argue, though she suspected he didn't
quite believe her. "Time will tell," was all he said. "Are you ready to go?"
She nodded. "There's just one last thing I'd like to
ask before we leave." She licked her lips, steeling herself for this final
battle. "I...I have a request."
Laughter lightened his eyes, the green as bright and
vivid as newly unfurled leaves. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"It's about your other...condition."
He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "About our
sleeping together?"
She nodded. "Were you serious about that?"
"Very."
"Why?" The question burst from her before she could
stop it. "How could you insist on such a thing?"
His expression darkened, desire slipping across his
face, heating his eyes and hardening his body. "Because you're a temptation
I can't resist. You're like a pool of water in the midst of a scorching
desert. And I've been lost in that desert for five long years. I have to
taste you, slip inside you, see if you feel as good as I remember or if it's
all an empty mirage."
"But not this way," she argued desperately. "Not
with threats and coercion. Not with such cold-blooded deliberation."
His laugh had a wry, husky quality to it. "There's
nothing cold-blooded about the way I feel."
"You'll regret it, I swear you will," she tried
again.
He shrugged. "Then I'll regret it." His fingers
slipped beneath the heavy fall of her hair, thrusting into the thick curls
at the base of her neck. "What's your request?"
Nervous dread balled in the pit of her stomach. "If
you insist on holding me to this...this stipulation, then I want to be the
one to decide when and where."
He inclined his head. "Agreed."
"No!" she cried recklessly. "There is no agreement.
There's only your demand and my submission. That certainly doesn't
constitute an agreement."
"It doesn't matter what you call it." His arms
tightened around her, fitting them together like two interlocking pieces,
neither one complete without the other. "This is what it's all about. The
warmth of my hand against your breast, the stirring of our bodies when they
touch. Our lips meeting, tasting." His voice deepened. "The feel of your
body beneath mine, open and eager."
Heat flashed, burning with an unmistakable urgency.
"But it's not love!" she protested, battling the primitive hunger sweeping
through her like wildfire.
Amusement flickered in his eyes. "I never said it
was. Call it love or concede it's lust. Whichever it is, I intend to enjoy
it. And so will you, no matter how much you try and deny it."
"No!" She shook her head, wanting to refute his
words, struggling to resist what was fast becoming more and more
irresistible.
He didn't permit any further opposition, his method
of silencing her immediate and effective. He lowered his head and kissed
her. She murmured in dissent, but his mouth absorbed the distressed sound.
He didn't force her, he didn't need to. Instead, he reminded her of the
intense delight to be found within his arms, seducing her with slow, deep
kisses, teasing kisses, soul-wrenching kisses.
Reality deserted her, leaving her careening out of
control. He was the sun, coaxing her toward his brilliant fire. She
surrendered to his pull, spinning where he willed, bathed in his golden
heat. Her heart had never truly belonged to her, she realized then. It had
always rested within his care, his to cherish or destroy.
His mouth slid from hers and she gasped for breath,
fought for sanity. "You can't do this to me again. I won't let you!"
"You can't stop it. You're mine, body and soul.
You've always been mine." His hand caressed her hip and her response came as
surely and naturally as a wave to the shore. "You see? Deny it all you want,
it doesn't alter a thing."
She bowed her head. "You won't change your mind?"
she whispered.
"I can't. I won't."
She lifted her head, tears trembling on the end of
her lashes. "Then heaven forgive you, because I never will." And with that,
she ripped free of his arms and ran for the door. She had to get away. She
had to leave now before she lost all control. Flinging it open, she threw a
anguished glance over her shoulder, her expression filled with accusation
and hopeless desire. And then she plunged into the fog-filled night.
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