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CHAPTER 11
Instinctively her free hand went to her body to check just how far up her T-shirt had ridden.
“What is it?” Sasha asked her, his attention caught by the movement of her hand.
“Uh… You’re heavy, Sasha. You’re still on top of me and you’re hurting me,” Veronica told him, not entirely truthfully.
She tried to bury herself in the night’s cloaking shadows, but it was too late and she could see from the sudden narrowing of his gaze as it followed the action of her hand that he realized, as she had just done herself, that her wretched T-shirt had ridden up far enough to expose the lower curve of her breasts.
The last thing, the very last thing Veronica wanted was for Sasha to study her body in any way at all. So why, in God’s name?... Why,
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“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Sasha demanded ominously quietly, his expression as well as his voice betraying his outrage. “Listen, Veronica, I don’t like what you’re trying to suggest,” he told her sharply. She shook her head and replied thinly.“Neither do I, Sasha. But the facts speak for themselves.”“Do they?” His mouth twisted bitterly.“I rather think it’s your overheated imagination that’s doing the ‘speaking’ through your totally mistaken interpretation of them,” Sasha added through gritted teeth.“You can say what you want at this point… But you can’t deny the evidence of this report,” Veronica reminded him sternly.“What evidence?” Sasha demanded. “This is
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The fact that he was just shrugging on his jacket as she came down the stairs allowed Veronica to have an unwanted glimpse of the lethal maleness of the muscles in his torso and made her hesitate betrayingly just for a second before continuing walking down the stairs. He had changed his clothes simply to have dinner with her… Why? Because Sasha knew very well the effect his appearance would have on any susceptible woman and because he intended to use that fact to distract her, to confuse her when she needed all her attention, all her concentration to ascertain the truth about what he did? Or was she letting her imagination run away with her again? Was the woman he had dressed so elegantly her or was it…? Was he perhaps seeing the other woman after their meeting had finished?“We&r
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Unable to keep either her shock or the pain his words had caused her from showing in her eyes, Veronica stared at him.‘It isn’t like that... I’m not interested in Wayne, not romantically, anyway. I don’t...’ She stopped abruptly and looked away from him. How could she tell Sasha of all men... people... that he was the only man she was interested in, the only man she would give herself to…? The only man she had real, strong feelings for when he was seeing was telling the exact opposite? Now Sasha was looking at her in that horribly cynical way, his mouth twisting in mocking contempt.‘Henry asked me to come,’ he told her as she remained silent. ‘He’s had to go away on business but he asked me to come and give yo
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He felt so good, smelled so good… Shyly, she opened her eyes and then her mouth, licking exploratively at his skin. In her ear, Veronica could feel the rapid increase in Sasha’s heartbeat. His arms tightened around her and then, suddenly, Sasha was picking her up, carrying her over to the bed, laying her on it, touching her skin, stroking her body, kissing her in all the ways she had imagined and showing her at the same time just how far short of the astonishing reality her imagination had fallen. In his hands, her breasts swelled and ached, her nipples taut, begging to be touched, kissed, sucked. Unable to stop herself, Veronica started to moan softly as his mouth tugged gently on her breast, her body arching, twisting, filled, driven by such an intensity of need that she herself was lost in i
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A noise in the garden outside her window brought Veronica back to reality. Startled, she let her unfocused gaze sweep the moonlit darkness and then sweep it again, her body stiffening as she saw Sasha turn away and disappear into the shadows. How long had he been standing there watching her? She knew from his clothes that he must’ve been working, probably checking for poachers who, she guessed, were as much a potential threat here as they had often been on her stepbrother’s estate. Shivering, she headed back to her bed. It was almost three o’clock in the morning and as she touched her face Veronica realized that it was wet with her tears.“Why the hell am I being so pathetic... Standing there with tears pouring down my face, reliving the pain of the past? And for what? I&rsquo
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