ridicule. Whatever Vidal’s intentions, she had no choice but to go along.
He saw her seated on the same sofa she had occupied earlier, switching on some hidden player on his way to get the drinks. Soft music filled the room. Nothing Leonie recognised, but soothing, she had to admit.
This time Vidal took a seat at her side, clinking his glass against hers in mocking salute. ‘Pleasant dreams!’
‘I hope you have nightmares,’ she retaliated weakly, drawing another laugh.
‘I’ll let you know in the morning.’
‘I’m intended to stay the whole night?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.
‘But of course. I look forward to breakfast together on the balcony, if the weather still allows it. Were we in Portugal now, there would be little doubt of it. June is a delightful time of year, the air warm, the fields filled with flowers, the whole ambience one of peace and plenty.’
There were times, Leonie had noted in the past, when his speech became a little more formalised, his accent more pronounced. Times when he both looked and sounded a different person. She stole a glance at the firmly moulded profile, lingering for the briefest of moments on the sensual curve of his mouth before dragging her attention back to the glass in her hand.
She hadn’t wanted the bandy, but she lifted it to her lips now, swallowing half the contents in one gulp. The glow was instant, spreading through her like fingers of fire. She made to down what was left, to have the glass taken from her and placed on the low table before her, along with his own.
‘Brandy is meant to be savoured not tipped straight down the throat,’ he admonished. ‘Or were you simply seeking courage?’
‘Courage for what?’ she countered. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’
‘I think fear of yourself more likely,’ he returned. ‘You want me—you always did want me—but you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge it. This way you can lay the blame for any weakness on the effects of alcohol.’ He put a fingertip to her lips as she made to speak, his own curving as he felt her involuntary tremor. ‘No disputes. I’ll have you say the words before we’re through.’
‘I’d as soon cut my tongue out first!’ Leonie spoke through gritted teeth, fighting to stay on top of her warring instincts. His touch stirred her senses; there was no denying that. She had an almost irresistible urge to take the fingertip into her mouth, to savour the masculine taste of it.
Vidal removed the temptation by moving the finger, sliding it gently along the line of her jaw and up behind her ear in a caress that set every nerve-ending in her body aquiver. It took everything she had to keep from dragging his hand away; to sit there expressionlessly holding the dark gaze.
‘A woman of some will-power,’ he observed, ‘but not by any means invincible.’ He took the caressing finger away, getting to his feet. ‘Come.’
She stood up, steeling herself afresh as he turned her about to press her ahead of him clear of the sofa and table. The music had softened still further. Vidal turned her again, this time into his arms, hands sliding behind her back to hold her close. The heels she was wearing brought her eyes on a level with his mouth. His breath was warm on her cheek, the subtle male scent of him filling her nostrils as he began to move in slow cadence to the rhythm. Her nipples tingled as they rubbed against the hardness of his chest, springing to life. He would feel that reaction; he couldn’t fail to feel it. Not that she could do a damned thing about it.
‘Bonito,’ he murmured softly.
He dropped his hands further down her back, bringing the vital centres of their bodies into closer proximity. Leonie bit down hard on her lower lip as he moved her hips so that she just barely brushed against him. He was aroused already, if not fully as yet then certainly well on the way. Fight it though she might, she was part-way there herself. He knew it too.
‘I think the time has come,’ he murmured.
Leonie put up no resistance as he led her across to the bedroom. The bedside lights were switched on, casting a warm glow across the wide expanse of the king-sized bed while leaving the rest of the room in semi-darkness. Vidal made no attempt to turn on extra lights, affording her some relief at least.
He took her face between both hands, searching the striking features as if to commit them to memory, his eyes dark pools. The first touch of his lips was unexpectedly gentle, teasing rather than asserting, brushing a way through the barrier she tried to keep going. His tongue felt like silk, exploring the soft inner flesh with infinite sensitivity. Leonie felt her senses begin to swim, her will-power to start draining away. If she was going to make any kind of stance at all it had to be now, came the thought, before she went under completely.
Leaving one hand cupping her nape, Vidal dropped the other to seek her breast, encircling her tingling, peaking nipple for a brief moment before moving again to unfasten her shirt buttons with dexterity and slide inside to find bare flesh. His touch was like fire on her skin, fingers penetrating beneath the flimsy lace covering of her bra to close possessively about the firm swell. Leonie gasped at the flooding sensation, clinging to the fast-fading remnants of her will-power like a drowning man clutching a straw.
The shock when he removed the hand and put her abruptly from him was immense. Eyes wide and dark, she gazed at him in mute question.
‘Cover yourself,’ he said brusquely.
She did so, fumbling at the buttons with nerveless fingers. If it had been his aim to arouse her, then reject her the way she had rejected him, he had acted a little prematurely for total humiliation. Unless he’d changed his mind about the whole thing.
‘Is this your way of telling me the deal is off?’ she got out.
Face devoid of expression again, he shook his head. ‘A change of plan. I find myself unwilling to settle for just the one night. When I return to Portugal, you will be coming with me.’
Leonie found her voice, amazed by its steadiness. ‘You really think I’ll consent to becoming your mistress?’
The laugh was short. ‘So there’s a limit to the sacrifice you’re prepared to make for your father?’
She bit her lip, caught between two fires. ‘For how long?’ she managed at length.
Something flickered in the dark depths of his eyes. ‘I want no mistress,’ he said. ‘Two years ago I asked you to marry me. Today, I demand it.’
CHAPTER TWO
LEONIE stared at him in stupefaction. When she did find her voice it sounded as if it were coming from the bottom of a well. ‘You can’t be serious!’
‘I was never more so,’ Vidal assured her hardily. ‘For two long years I’ve tried to put you from my mind—to tell myself that no woman is worth losing sleep over. But it’s been of little use. I made you an offer I’d never made to any other woman, only to have it thrown back in my face as though it were an insult. I have the opportunity now to make you eat your words.’ The pause was brief. ‘The final choice still remains with you.’
‘It’s emotional blackmail!’ she accused, in no doubt as to his meaning. ‘You’re asking too much!’
‘No more than you’re asking of me in continuing to employ a man who stole from me,’ came the unmoved return. ‘Of course, you could always allow him to make the decision for himself.’
There would be no question of which way that decision would go, Leonie knew. Her father would be devastated if he knew what she was facing. The question of whether Vidal would actually call in the police if the money was paid back was debatable, but he certainly wouldn’t be prepared to reinstate him, or give him a reference, which would effectively put paid to his career.
Vidal made an abrupt movement. ‘I’ll leave you to think it over.’
Leonie sank to a seat on the edge of the bed as the door closed behind