Elusive Obsession. Carole Mortimer

from her cheeks anyway. ‘Needs…?’ she repeated harshly. ‘I don’t——’

      ‘Oh, but I’m sure you do, Diana.’ Suddenly Reece Falcon was very close to her on the gaily coloured scatter-rug in front of the bean-bag she sat on. ‘I think you know exactly what I mean by “needs”.’ He was so close now that his breath stirred the hair at her temple.

      Every nerve in her body was screaming a protest, every brain cell she possessed recoiling in horror, as she knew, seconds before his mouth descended savagely on hers, that he was going to kiss her!

      And it was like no other kiss she had ever known in her life before; it was totally demanding, erotically forceful, allowing no room for denial or rejection, just completely and utterly sensual, those warm lips moving over and against hers in a slow caress that seemed without end.

      Try as she might—and she did try!—Diana’s mouth couldn’t escape his, and then, just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, she knew what she had to do, knew that she was approaching this all wrong; her response, any response, was what Reece Falcon wanted!

      And so she went suddenly still, her arms falling to her sides, her body going limp in his arms, her mouth coldly slack and unmoving.

      For long, timeless seconds, as Reece continued to kiss her, it seemed that wasn’t going to work either. And then—miraculously to her, because she was starting to feel faint now!—he seemed to realise she was completely unresponsive, and his mouth stilled against hers even as he opened his eyes and looked down at her, her green gaze returning his with cold contempt for what he was doing to her.