His Scandalous Mistress: The Master's Mistress / Count Toussaint's Pregnant Mistress / Castellano's Mistress of Revenge

Rogan had no chance to make any reply as he watched Elizabeth walk away.

He sighed heavily as he fell back onto the rock, its coldness acting as a balm to the ache in his loins as he stared up at the cloudless sky.

Elizabeth obviously wanted to forget what had happened, but there was no way Rogan would ever be able to forget the way Elizabeth had caught fire in his arms just now. Her ready response to the caress of his mouth and hands on her body. The tremors of her shuddering release.

Even if he wanted to, there was no way Rogan could ever forget any of that…

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_cd380009-c8c5-568e-aa2f-b2909df1b813)

‘DOING some late spring-cleaning… ?’

Elizabeth straightened to turn and stare numbly across the room at Rogan as he stood in the doorway of the library. ‘I found it like this when I came in just now.’

‘Like this’ was with dozens upon dozens of books tumbled haphazardly from the shelves onto the floor, until hardly any of the carpet remained in view.

Elizabeth had been dreading seeing Rogan again after the incident down in the cove earlier this morning. But coming into the library to find the room in complete chaos had put that embarrassment completely from her mind. All she wanted to do now was just sit down and cry in the midst of all this wanton destruction.

She dropped down heavily into the chair that sat in front of the desk. ‘Who could have done such a thing?’ She stared down at the piles of books in disarray around her. ‘And why?’

‘I think at this moment I would be more interested to know when.’ Rogan stepped carefully over the piles of scattered books as he came further into the room.

‘When… ?’ Elizabeth echoed dazedly.

He shrugged. ‘Did this happen last night, after we had gone to bed, and we just didn’t hear it? Or did someone enter the house earlier this morning while we were down at the beach?’

Some of the colour returned to Elizabeth’s cheeks at his reference to ‘earlier this morning’.

‘Is there anything missing? Stupid question,’ he instantly acknowledged as Elizabeth gave him an impatient glance. ‘I was just trying to decide whether we should tell the police it was simple vandalism or theft.’

‘Theft?’ Elizabeth repeated breathlessly, her gaze instantly going to the glass cabinet that stood against the wall near the door.

A glass cabinet that Rogan could see stood completely empty, with both of its doors smashed. ‘Is that where you put all the valuable books? The Darwin and other books you mentioned yesterday?’

Elizabeth gave a pained wince. ‘Yes. I—I thought it best to keep them all together… But I just made it easier for a thief, didn’t I?’ she realised self-disgustedly. ‘I—Do you think we should call the police?’ She frowned as Rogan’s earlier comment finally registered.

He arched dark brows. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I… Yes. Of course.’ She stood up again to run the palms of her hands down her denim-clad thighs. ‘If you’re comfortable with that?’

‘If I’m—Why the hell wouldn’t I be comfortable with it?’ Rogan demanded.

Elizabeth could no longer meet Rogan’s dark and probing gaze. ‘I just thought—’

‘I don’t think I want to know what you thought, Elizabeth!’ he bit out. ‘Did imagining I might be involved in something illegal add to your pleasure this morning?’he continued scornfully. ‘Did it make it more exciting for you?’

Elizabeth felt the colour quickly drain from her cheeks at Rogan’s tone. ‘There’s no need to be insulting—’

‘Oh, I think there is,’ he insisted. ‘What do you imagine it is I do in the States, Elizabeth? Something illegal, obviously. Gun-running, maybe? Or selling drugs?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she snapped uncomfortably.

Elizabeth had no idea what Rogan did or was in America; how could she, when he refused to talk about himself?

He folded his arms in front of that broad, muscular chest. ‘So what else did you come up with after you had eliminated gun-running and drugs?’

She made an agitated movement. ‘Stop this, Rogan.’

‘No, seriously,’ he grated, ‘I’m interested.’

He might be ‘interested’, but Elizabeth was under no illusion as to the fact that Rogan was furiously angry too. With good reason… ?

She moistened dry lips. ‘I imagined—thought that—that maybe you’re a mercenary… ’

Rogan’s eyes glittered as hard as jet. ‘From being a soldier for my country to becoming a hired killer for whoever can pay the most money?’

When he put it like that… ‘Perhaps not.’ Elizabeth grimaced. ‘Maybe if you were willing to talk about yourself more… ?’

‘And spoil all your fun?’ he taunted glacially. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it!’

Elizabeth wasn’t having fun at all! ‘I apologise if I’ve insulted you, Rogan—’

‘I can’t imagine why you would think I might be insulted at being thought a mercenary?’ he said.

She clasped her hands tightly together. ‘I have apologised… ’

‘And that makes it okay, does it?’ he exclaimed.

‘No, it obviously doesn’t make it okay,’ Elizabeth accepted softly. ‘I had no right to make assumptions concerning your—your present profession.’

‘No, you didn’t,’ Rogan agreed. ‘I assure you I have absolutely nothing I need to hide from the police, Elizabeth. Can you claim the same?’

She frowned at the challenge she heard in his voice. ‘What could I possibly have to hide?’

Rogan folded his arms across his chest. ‘You tell me.’

Elizabeth gave a confused shake of her head. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about… ’

He scowled. ‘How much does a university lecturer earn, Elizabeth? Not nearly enough, I’m sure. And no matter how much it is, I’m sure you could still use a couple of hundred grand extra to put in the bank.’

‘You think that I did this?’ Elizabeth gasped weakly, her hand moving up to her throat. ‘That I came back from our swim and deliberately wrecked the library in an effort to cover up the fact that I’ve stolen the first edition Darwin?’

Rogan’s mouth thinned. ‘It doesn’t sound any less plausible than you thinking I’m a damned mercenary!’

No, it didn’t sound less plausible, Elizabeth acknowledged numbly. Except her salary as a university lecturer wasn’t her only source of income. A university lecturer was what Elizabeth was, what she did, but the money she earned doing it was nothing compared to the legacy her mother had left for her when she had died ten years ago.

But that happened to be Elizabeth’s business and no one else’s!

She straightened. ‘I believe we’ve possibly insulted each other enough for one morning, don’t you?’