Purchased for Passion: Shackled by Diamonds / A Mistress for the Taking / His Bought Mistress

Anna’s eyes distended.

‘Say yes? I never said yes!’

‘You’ve been saying yes all evening,’ he bit back. ‘From the moment I first set eyes on you. You made it crystal-clear you wanted me. Right up to ten seconds ago. Don’t pretend to be naïve.’ The voice was still harsh, still contemptuous. Two lines of white were etched around his mouth, colour flaring along his cheekbones.

She took a thin, hissing breath, eyes aflame with fury.

‘My God, you have a nerve. I don’t have to take this from you. Go and find some other willing floozy for the night! How dare you think you can use me for a night’s entertainment?’

‘Forgive me, but you gave every impression that you were willing.’ The sneer in his voice was open.

Anna’s eyes spat fire. Oh, how she wanted to feel anger! She was feeling it now all right. Coruscating, burning, biting, furious, incandescent anger. She was shaking with it.

‘Get out! I don’t have to take this! I don’t have to put up with men who think because I model clothes I’ll take them off for them whenever they feel like it. Now get out of my room before I charge you for harassment!’

Leo’s face was as if carved from marble.

‘Be very careful,’ he told her, his eyes like chips of rock, ‘what you say to me.’

Her face contorted.

‘Don’t threaten me. I don’t have to be treated like this by you or anyone else—however stinking rich they are!’

‘Don’t tell me—’ the contemptuous note was back in his voice ‘—it’s in your contract.’

‘Well, it’s just as bloody well it is, isn’t it?’ she spat back at him. ‘Because with you around I need it!’

The eyes were like granite again.

‘Enough. You have made your point of view very clear. But next time you want to play the outraged virtue card, Ms Delane, I suggest you do it before you entertain a man in your bedroom at midnight.’

He threw a last stony, contemptuously angry look at her, and walked out.

The door shut behind him with a violent reverberating thud.

Leo strode down the corridor in a cold rage such as he had seldom experienced.

Christos, where the hell had that come from?

From temptress to virago in ten seconds flat!

Deliberate?

His eyes narrowed. If there’d been the slightest indication that the whole thing was a put-on he’d—

He felt his hands clench as he walked rapidly away, and he had to force himself to release them.

No, she wasn’t worth it. Whether or not she was putting it on—one of those women who enjoyed blowing hot then cold just to twist men up—he didn’t care. Let her enjoy her virtue. Theos, it was all she was going to enjoy tonight.

Anna Delane could enjoy her precious celibacy, and he…he could have a cold shower.

How the hell was I supposed to know she didn’t want it?

Indignation filled him—and a sense of unjustified ill usage.

Good God, he wasn’t some callow teenager, unable to tell whether a woman was responding to him. Anna Delane had responded all right—clear and loud.

So why the outrage?

Roughly, he pushed the question aside. What the hell did he care what the answer was?

His interest in Anna Delane was over.

Permanently.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANNA lay in bed. Her heart was still pumping, adrenaline surging through her. She couldn’t stop it. Her whole body was as tense as a board, every muscle rigid.

How had it come to this? How?

Disbelief kept flooding through her, cold and icy through her guts.

The cold emptied through her again, clutching at her with its icy fingers.

How, how had it happened?

The question went round and round, pounding ceaselessly, tormentingly.

How had she let Leo Makarios do that to her? Just walk up to her and start to touch her. And she’d done nothing—nothing! Pathetic. Pathetic.

A shudder went through her.

She had just let him stand there and kiss her, fondle her, as if she was some kind of…some kind of…

She felt anger excoriating her. Anger at Leo Makarios, who had just walked into her bedroom and decided to help himself to her. The anger wired through her nerves. Anger at Leo Makarios.

But a worse fury consumed her too.

Anger at herself.

How could she have succumbed to him like that? Letting him come into her room, kiss her, caress her, do what he wanted to her? How could he have just swept away all her defences, all her years of fighting men off?

And into her head stole a voice that chilled her to the bone.

Because you didn’t want to fight him off. You wanted him…you wanted him badly…Wanted to feel his mouth on yours, wanted his hands caressing you, wanted to feel him stroke you, arouse you…

She closed her eyes in anguish, her face contorting.