Lacybourne Manor (18 page)

She tried to yank her hand
away, tried to delay this until later, much later, after brie and
shrimp cocktail and all was made right in the world again.

She tripped up the first step
but found her footing quickly. She had to, he didn’t hesitate, his
strong hand gripping hers; he dragged her up the stairs.

He halted abruptly at the
large landing and she slammed into him. The bathroom was obviously
to his right, another two-step stairway several paces to the left
took him to the upstairs hall. He turned left, and, with some
uncanny perception, walked right passed the two other bedrooms to
the very end of the hall and up the three extra steps that led him
to
her
bedroom. He entered it without hesitation, pulling her with
him.

The light was still on beside
her bed (her mother would have given her a lecture about global
warming if she saw it, but then again, her mother would probably
have other things to lecture her about if she’d been there).

He drew her in the room and
then let her go and the force of this action sent her beyond him
several steps into the room.

Then he slammed the door shut
behind him.

There went any chance at
Mallory-induced interruptions.

Sibyl’s belly dropped.

“Take off your clothes,” he
commanded without preamble.

All her breath left her in a
rush and her heart squeezed. Then she tried another delaying
tactic.

“Mr. Morgan, can we just take a
moment and talk this through? There have to be ground rules.”

He took one stride,
one
angry
stride, reached out and yanked her into his arms and she
tipped her head back to look into his blazing eyes.

“Call me ‘Mr. Morgan’ one more
time and I’ll tie you naked to the bed for a week,” he bit out,
apparently, for some reason, livid. “Got that?”

Her entire body trembled.

“It’s Colin,” he clipped.

She nodded.

“
Say
it!
” he barked and she jumped.

“Colin,” Sibyl whispered.

It was then he kissed her.

It was nothing like the kiss
the blond version of him gave her in the dream. It was hot, yes,
but it was an entirely different type of wild that was heady and
needy and so possessive it took her breath away and, darn it all,
it did this deliciously.

Then Colin unexpectedly
released her and, unprepared for it, Sibyl stumbled back a step.
She thought she might fall as her wobbly legs didn’t seem able to
support her. She threw out her hand and grabbed the foot of the bed
to steady herself.

“Take your clothes off,” he
repeated and shrugged off his jacket, dropping it to the floor.

Her trembling hands went to the
hem of her camisole.

“
These
are the ground rules,” he forced the words out
between his teeth and took a step forward.

Automatically, Sibyl took a
step back.

He stopped at her movement, his
head tilted to the side and his eyes turned menacing.

He took another step towards
her. She took another step back.

He started speaking again. “You
always wear your hair down when you’re with me.”

Sibyl nodded. “Yes, I’ve got
that one,” she told him helpfully, trying to diffuse his strangely
infuriated mood.

Why he would be angry, she had
no idea. He was getting what he wanted, wasn’t he?

He took a step forward. At his
continued advance, her mind blanked and she took a step back,
rounding the bed.

Colin went on. “Not another man
touches you while you’re mine.”

She nodded again and squared
her shoulders to try and instil some confidence in herself, some
control over her fluttering belly and her trembling legs.

“You aren’t taking off your
clothes,” he reminded her in a dangerous voice.

His hands went to the buttons
of his shirt.

She whipped the camisole off as
fast as she could. Underneath it was the lacy, black, strapless bra
she’d bought for the same bridesmaid’s dress for which she bought
the shoes.

She heard his swift intake of
breath.

He tore his shirt off and the
buttons flew around the room like mini-bullets.

She heard her own swift intake
of breath, not only at his action, but at her first sight of the
wall of his hard, muscled chest and the defined planes of his
stomach.

Good goddess, but he had a
beautiful body.

Her hands, now trembling, went
to the button of her jeans.

Colin continued. “You do what I
tell you, no questions asked.”

He took a step forward,
rounding the bed as she nodded.

She took a step back.

His hands went to the belt of
his trousers and he kept going. “You’re available to me when I say,
where I say.”

“I… I…” she had to clear her
throat and cursed herself mentally for showing that weakness, “I
have a job. What if I’m working?”

She unzipped her jeans and slid
them off her hips, kicking them away and standing in front of him
feeling desperately ill-at-ease and wearing nothing but lacy black
underwear and rhinestone shoes.

It was at that moment she felt
the most like a whore and something inside her curled up and died.
Her mother and father both told her that her big heart would be the
finish of her one day.

This was that day.

He didn’t answer her question
about working. He was staring at her like she was a long tall glass
of ice water and he’d just stumbled out of the desert.

“Colin?”

Upon hearing her voice, with a
start, his eyes moved from her body to her face and they were lit
with a fire that turned her bones to mush.

And it wasn’t with fear.

She forced herself to go on.
“My job’s important to me. What if I’m working?”

“I thought I just gave you
fifty thousand pounds?” he replied.

She forgot about that. How she
did, she didn’t know, but she did.

She couldn’t exactly tell
him he was buying her body in exchange for a minibus for oldies,
he’d think
she
was a lunatic.

When she didn’t answer he said,
“You’re on a two month holiday.”

That thing that died inside
her, whatever it was, turned to ash.

He was utterly ruthless.

She could do nothing but nod.
She worked more hours than she was paid and hadn’t taken a day of
holiday in a year. She also made her own hours and there was always
something happening at the Community Centre.

She’d make it work.

From the look in his
eyes, she’d
have
to make it work.

“Is that all?” she asked.

“Would you like more?” he
returned.

She shook her head
vehemently.

“Take off your underwear but
leave the shoes.”

Dear goddess, she was going to
melt in a puddle at the side of her bed. How she could be
terrified, miserable and turned on all at the same time, she had no
idea.

But she was.

And she did as she was
told.

By the time she was finished
he’d completed disrobing and stood in front of her in absolute
brazen nakedness. His body was extraordinary, she’d never seen
anything like it outside of a magazine. His muscles defined, the
jutting bones of his hips and lower…

“Dear goddess,” she
whispered.

She totally forgot her own
nakedness at the sight of his.

“Get on the bed,” he
ordered.

Then she remembered.

She turned, trying to hide her
embarrassment with a fall of her hair. She sat down on the side of
the bed but before she could push herself to the middle, he was
there, his strong arms around her lifting her up and planting her
back, deeper on the bed.

He pushed her to back and his
body came down on hers.

Strangely, Sibyl thought,
when his weight hit her, he felt heavy and warm and unbelievably
but indescribably
right
.

She trembled with
fear
and
desire and she hated herself all the more because only very
bad girls enjoyed this type of thing.

What kind of woman was she?

She started, “Colin, I’ve
–”

But she didn’t finish, his head
came down, his mouth claimed hers, his tongue sweeping inside –
Colin Morgan kissed her, her entire body quivered and it
started.

* * * * *

Colin trailed the tips of his
fingers down Sibyl’s spine, all the way to the very shapely curve
of her generously rounded bottom.

He felt her tremble under his
fingers.

She’d been worth every penny of
those fifty thousand pounds. Even if he didn’t have her again, he
wouldn’t regret the money. Hell, he would have paid it just to
witness her standing before him in nothing but that black
underwear, as ludicrous as that notion was.

However, it was true. She was
just that exquisite.

She was lying on her belly, her
face turned away from him, locks of her leonine hair falling on her
back, her shoulders and tumbled all over her pillows.

So much for Royce and
Beatrice’s reincarnated souls shaking off the curse in an
earth-shattering moment of glory the minute they consummated their
passion.

He’d felt the earth move but it
started and stopped with Sibyl bucking under him and moaning his
name with her intense climax that he could not, for the life of him
(even as cynical as he was), believe was fake.

It had taken him some time to
settle her obvious nerves, either this was her first time selling
her body or she wasn’t used to it. But once his mouth and hands
were on her, she melted, and even if she was truly a consummate
actress, he didn’t care.

She was, quite simply, the best
he ever had.

And he’d had a lot.

She
did
taste as fantastic
as she felt and smelled (tonight, she smelled of fruit and flowers
and it was a thoroughly intoxicating scent).

He’d never felt the driving
need, the insistent demand of his body to possess anyone like he’d
felt the need to possess her. Colin could barely contain himself,
nearly didn’t have the patience he needed to calm her nerves and
incite her passion before he drove into her. He was ready for her
before they’d made it to the bed.

And it had been everything her
luscious body, her brilliant eyes, her phenomenal hair and her
fiery temper promised it would be… and more.

Two months of her might not be
enough. If it got any better than this, he’d buy two more. He’d
double the price if needed to keep that magnificent body writhing
under him, her mouth on him, her legs open for him.

As he had these thoughts, she
whipped her head around and her hair slid along her back.

“I have to let Mallory out for
a break.”

She said this in a quiet voice
but he saw, with some surprise, that even though she’d obviously
wiped her tears on the pillow, she’d been crying.

Something about this cause an
unpleasant twinge of a feeling Colin never felt before to cut
through his gut.

Before he could process the
feeling, Sibyl twisted on the bed and got up. Walking quickly to
her discarded clothes, she pulled on her jeans without putting her
panties on. He rolled to his side and put his head in his hand,
elbow to the pillow to watch her dress. He so enjoyed the show
that, with disgust, he realised he’d watch her scrub a toilet and
likely be aroused by it.

She reached into the wardrobe
and pulled out a huge sweatshirt that said “University of Colorado”
on it and yanked it over her head. Then she sat on the edge of the
bed and leaned over to take her sexy sandals off.

“Are you going home?” she
quietly asked the floor.

“No, Sibyl,” Colin answered.
“I’m spending the night.”

She nodded, her shoulders
slumped deeper and her hair shook with her head, shining in the
light of the lamp. He had to force himself not to lean forward,
wrap his fist in it and turn her head to his so he could kiss her
again.

He remembered the taste of her
mouth, it was just as intoxicating as the rest of her.

“Would you like me to come with
you?” he asked, his voice gentle and he had no idea why.

He wasn’t normally gentle with
women, nor was he rough or brutal or cruel, usually simply cold or
reserved. They used him, he used them, it was the unspoken deal and
both parties understood.

But he had been all those
things to Sibyl and he didn’t understand his intense reaction to
her or the reasons he was driven to these behaviours.

He was disappointed that she’d
accepted his offer, proven herself to be everything every woman in
his life had ever been.

However, Colin was used
to that and should have been able to accept it but when she slapped
the lid on the briefcase, he felt the need to punish her for
not
being
what he wanted her to be.

Given that, when she’d said
“thank you” in that soft, sweet voice as if the fifty thousand
pounds was the answer to fifty thousand prayers, for some reason
his chest had squeezed and a sharp pain sliced through his gut.

He’d never had that reaction
either, not to anything, but the demands of his body wouldn’t allow
his mind the delay it would need to understand his reactions and
he’d dragged her upstairs and been anything but gentle with
her.

At the current moment, though,
everything about her screamed for gentle. She was walking around if
she was made of glass and even a loud noise would make her
shatter.

“He doesn’t like his walks,
he’s too lazy.” She was talking about Mallory. “I won’t be
long.”

She yanked out some shoes from
the wardrobe, shoved her feet in them and left the room quickly.
Then he heard her calling for the dog as she descended the
stairs.