low and coaxing, he said, ‘I’ve missed you, Shannon. I’ve missed…this.’
He reached for her, in almost leisurely fashion, and to her later shame and despair she scarcely resisted when he drew her into his arms. One hand still clutching her purse, she instinctively raised her arms, checking herself before they went around him.
But when his mouth found hers, with a remembered confident persuasion, her heart tumbled over, and within moments her lips opened beneath his.
It was a kiss of surprising gentleness, seductive and slow but very thorough. Her eyes fluttered closed, the dancing harbour lights seeming imprinted on her lids, and she could have sworn the room was revolving in a sensuous waltz.
When Devin relinquished her mouth and she opened her eyes in a dazed stare, she saw him looking back at her with a questioning and grave expression. His eyes glittered and there was colour in his lean cheeks, the underlying bones appearing more prominent. ‘Looks like I’m not the only one.’
He brought his mouth down again to hers, but this time she pushed against him, trying to break free, very nearly in a panic.
Although he didn’t release his hold, his mouth lifted, his eyes burning. ‘You don’t hate me,’ he said, his voice like heated black satin. She could almost feel it brush over her skin—they were so close that his breath touched her still parted lips.
She whispered, her shocked eyes held by his mesmerising gaze, ‘I never said I hated you.’
She pulled away from him, trying to maintain some equilibrium. Devin let his hands drop from her waist, brushing over her hips before he let her go. ‘Would it be so hard to accept my condition?’
‘You really do mean it,’ she said in disbelief. ‘You’re offering me money in return for…for—’
‘For being with me again. It wouldn’t be too much of a hardship, would it?’ His expression was curiously watchful. ‘Why don’t you stay tonight?’
She moistened her lips. ‘You make it sound so easy.’
Devin inclined his head. ‘It’s very simple. You say yes, we…go to bed, make love. Just like old times.’
‘And tomorrow,’ she queried, her throat raw, ‘you’d give me a cheque? Payment for sex?’
He blinked, as if she’d shocked him. His eyes narrowed. ‘For one night? Your price is too high.’
‘One night or many, it makes no difference,’ she pointed out, her voice shaking. ‘Your…condition is unacceptable.’
‘You’ve misunderstood me.’
‘How?’ she demanded. He’d been pretty explicit, she thought.
‘I want more than sex. More than one night. I want you back in my life, Shannon. In my home. My bed.’
‘Why?’
Devin looked down for a moment as if she’d caught him unawares with the question. ‘Why?’ he repeated. Then, slowly, ‘Call it…a trial reconciliation.’
She looked around the coldly glossy designer-created apartment he called home now. He couldn’t be serious. Despite the devastatingly sexy kiss she couldn’t help suspecting some other motive than a sudden overwhelming desire to attempt a renewed relationship.
‘A trial?’ she repeated. ‘For how long?’
‘As long it takes…’
‘To make the film? It could be five or six months!’ She knew she sounded appalled.
A shadow of annoyance showed in his eyes. ‘That’s the deal,’ he said curtly. ‘Don’t pretend it would be so enormous a sacrifice.’ Arrogantly he added, ‘You still want me.’
She could hardly deny that. Not after the way she’d succumbed to his kiss.
‘You know I want your money,’ she said, fighting for some sort of equilibrium. ‘And you’re saying you’d be willing to give it to me if I agree to…sell myself to you?’ Her whole being revolted at the idea, and she had to question his motive. He’d had three years to suggest a revival of their marriage without resorting to a kind of extortion that was guaranteed to arouse her hostility.
‘You’re making it sound sordid,’ he said shortly.
‘You were the one who did that!’ she said with scorn. ‘I just want to make sure we both know what the terms are.’ Surely he could see that his blatant attempt at manipulation could only backfire—if he was genuinely interested in a reconciliation. ‘I assume,’ she said, in an attempt to make him see the enormity of his suggestion, ‘you’d have it written into the contract and signed by witnesses?’
He said stiffly, ‘This would be a private arrangement. Between the two of us.’
‘I don’t suppose it would stand up in court anyway.’
She shouldn’t even be discussing it. ‘I’d like to go home now,’ she said. ‘Maybe you could call me a taxi.’
‘I’ll take you.’ His tone was brusque and he didn’t move immediately, but when she turned toward the door he followed and opened it for her, blocking her way. ‘By the way,’ he said, ‘what happened to Duncan Hobbs?’
‘He was found guilty, though there was considerable public outrage about the verdict.’
‘So what do you think? Was he guilty?’
‘I don’t know. There are some strange gaps in the prosecution case.’
He nodded slightly, then stepped back, and as she passed him he said, ‘Think about my offer. You can phone me at the office during the day, or here anytime. If I’m not around leave a message and I’ll get back to you.’
They rode to her flat in silence and she bade him an almost inaudible goodnight, slipping into the lighted hallway and leaning against the closed door as she heard his footsteps recede down the short pathway and then the faint sound of his car driving away.
She could still feel Devin’s kiss on her lips, and his masculine scent was in her nostrils, lingering.
Imagination, she told herself, and walked to the bathroom, switched on the light and saw herself in the mirror over the basin. Her cheeks were delicately flushed, her eyes lustrous and the pupils large, dark, mysterious. Her mouth had lost the pink gloss she’d smoothed on before leaving, but her lips were red and full. She looked like a woman who had just left her lover.
Closing her eyes, she doused her face with cold water. How could he make her look like that with a single kiss? How could he make her heart beat faster, her blood run hot and swift in her veins, her whole being flood with longing?
She had got over the break-up of her marriage, gone on with her life, closed off the memories, except for those that surfaced in unguarded sleep.
The whole thing was impossible.
But, an insidious voice from deep within whispered, people do change. I’ve changed. Maybe he has too.
Not so much that he’d lost the ability to take advantage of any weakness in an opponent and move in for the kill.
They had parted bitterly and she’d assumed that Devin had cut his losses.
Yet tonight he’d said he wanted her back.
She dried her face and frowned at her reflection in the mirror. Could she believe that he’d simply missed her, and that seeing her again had triggered renewed feelings, perhaps as powerful and disturbing as those he’d aroused in her?
He hadn’t mentioned love, she recalled uneasily, hanging up the towel. He’d always found her sexually stimulating and still did, no doubt about that. Her skin tingled at the remembrance of the lambent flame in his eyes.
Had she really expected that he would give her money for nothing?