Melanie Milburne

Rumours: The Ruthless Ravensdales


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a pulse of excitement roaring through her flesh, a zinging awareness of all that was different between them: his maleness, her femaleness, his determination to keep control and her determination to dismantle it.

      It crackled in the air they shared like a current set on too high a voltage.

      She looked at his grimly set mouth and the dark shadow of sexy stubble that surrounded it. The clench of his jaw that suggested he was only just holding on to his temper. Her heart began to thump, but not out of fear. It wasn’t him she was afraid of but her reaction to him. She had never felt her body react in this way. His touch triggered something raw and primal in her. She had never felt her body ache. Pulse and contract with a longing she couldn’t describe because she had never felt it quite like this before. She wasn’t a virgin but none of her few sexual encounters had made her flesh sing like this. He hadn’t even kissed her and yet she felt as if she was on a knife-edge. Every nerve in her body was standing up and waiting. Anticipating. Wanting. Hungering.

      But then he suddenly dropped his hands from her arms. The movement was so unexpected she nearly toppled backwards into the pool but somehow managed to regain her balance. She maintained her composure—just—with a cool look cast his way. ‘One thing you should note,’ she said. ‘I don’t take orders. Not from you or from anyone.’

      His jaw worked for a moment. She saw the way his eyes went to her heaving chest as if he couldn’t stop himself. When his gaze re-engaged with hers it burned with heat as hot as a blacksmith’s fire. ‘Then you will learn how to do so,’ he said with a thread of steel in his voice. ‘If I achieve nothing else out of this month, I will achieve that. You will do as I say and not question my authority. Not for a moment.’

      Holly inched up her chin. ‘Game on.’

      * * *

      Julius paced the floor of his office a short time later. How could he have let Holly get under his skin like that? He had gone down there to draw a line with her but she had flipped things so swiftly he had ended up acting like a caveman. He had never felt more like slaking his lust just for the heck of it and to hell with the consequences. His body was still thrumming with the thunderous need she had stirred in him.

      Holly was doing her best to break him, to reduce him to the level of a wild animal. She was taunting him with every trick she had in her repertoire. She was in his house, in his private sanctuary, for the next four weeks. Four weeks! How was he going to withstand the assault on his senses?

      She was so determined, so devious, so...distracting. His flesh still tingled with the aftershocks of touching her. Her skin against his had felt hot. Scorching hot. Blistering. He could still feel the sensation firing through his body. Touching her had unleashed something frighteningly primal in him. It roared through his blood like a wild fire. He had been knocked sideways by the sensation of holding her so close to the throbbing need of his body. It had been all he could do to keep himself from ripping that ridiculous see-through underwear away, driving himself into her and thrusting madly until he exploded.

      Was he so sex-deprived that her teasing come-on had reduced him to the behaviour of a wild beast? The temptation of her, the thrill of touching her, of smelling that intoxicating scent of jasmine, musk and something else he couldn’t pin down had wiped out the motherboard of his morality like a lightning strike.

      What was it about her that caused him to react this way? She was wilful, wild, unpredictable and wanton. Being anywhere near her was like fighting an addiction he hadn’t even known he possessed. He wanted her. He ached to have her. He pulsed with the need to feel her surround him with her hot little body. He could feel it rippling through him: lust let loose taking charge of him, demanding, dictating, directing. Dismantling all of his efforts to resist it.

      He would resist it.

       He would resist her.

      He was not a hedonist. He wasn’t a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal who could only respond to primal urges. He had intellect, discipline and self-control. A moral compass. A conscience.

      Julius sat down heavily on his Chesterfield office chair, rotating it from side to side as he gathered his fevered thoughts. What was that crack Holly had made about his celebrity parents? So she knew exactly who he was, did she? Had she known all along or had someone told her? Sophia wouldn’t have said anything. He trusted his housekeeper to take a bullet for the sake of his privacy. Had Holly somehow stumbled on his identity? No doubt that was why she was playing her seduction game. She wanted a celebrity trophy to hang on her belt. A show business shag to boast about to her friends. Could there be anything more nauseatingly vacuous?

      He was lucky the press left him alone here in Argentina. He was able to walk around without the paparazzi documenting his every move. In England it was different. As a child he had found the intrusion terrifying. As an adult it was nothing less than sickening. Being chased down the street, cameras shoved in his face, when he was coming and going to lectures at university. Hounded while he was trying to go on a date with someone. It had got to the point where he had stopped dating. It wasn’t worth the effort.

      He was often mistaken for his brother, Jake, and that caused heaps of trouble, the sort of trouble for which he had no time or patience. Jake had no issues with the press. Jake accepted it as part of being related to famous people, but then, he had always been the more outgoing twin. Although Jake had no aspirations to be on the stage, he loved being the centre of attention and used their parents’ fame to get what he wanted—a constant stream of beautiful women in and out of his bedroom. Jake didn’t mind being compared to their father. He wore it like a badge of honour.

      Julius would rather poke a skewer in his eye.

      He would not have people compare him to his father. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father. He loved both of his parents in a hands-off sort of way. He had never been one to wear his emotions on the outside. Even as a child he had never been the sort of person who was comfortable with over-the-top displays of emotion. His parents’ loud arguments, their torrid displays of temper and their passionate and very public reunions had always made Julius cringe with embarrassment. He was glad he’d spent most of his childhood and adolescence at boarding school. He had found study an escape from the unpredictability of his home life. He had found the structure, order and strictly timetabled life a natural fit for his personality.

      Jake, on the other hand, loved spontaneity. Jake hadn’t enjoyed the discipline of school and had always found ways to buck the system. He was like their father in that he lapped up the attention and if it wasn’t shining his way he found a way to make it do so.

      Julius hated the limelight. He liked to work quietly in the background without the world’s eye honed on him. His success as an astrophysicist had drawn far more attention to him than he would have liked but he comforted himself with the fact that he was successful in his own right, that he hadn’t used his parents’ fame as a way of opening any doors. He took a great deal of satisfaction in his work and, although the hours and the responsibility of heading a software company, along with his regular work came with its own set of problems, he enjoyed the flexibility of working from home, flying in and out as necessary.

      The fact that the sanctuary of his home was now occupied by a mischievous hoyden was a state of affairs he would have to address, and soon. How was he supposed to concentrate with her flouncing around his villa?

      The way she had challenged him as if fighting a duel. Game on. What exactly was she trying to prove? Hadn’t she done enough by that little strip show in the pool? She was supposed to be making a new start. Reforming her bad ways. But from the moment she’d arrived she’d been playing him like a puppet master. Tugging on his strings until he was so churned up with lust he couldn’t think straight. That was no doubt why she wouldn’t accept the room Sophia had prepared for her on the third floor. Of course that room wouldn’t suit Miss Bedroom Eyes. It was too far away from his. What did she have in mind? A midnight foray into his suite?

      He would not allow her to win this. She would not get the better of him. She might think he was just like any other man she had lured into her sensual web in the past. She might