It was a statement not a question, and it was fired at her as fast as a bullet from a gun.
An uneasy feeling settled at the base of her spine. ‘How do you know that?’
He waved a hand. ‘Just answer the question.’
‘Have you had me investigated?’ she asked, still preoccupied with how he’d come across the information.
‘Of course.’
Shock ratcheted up her spine, vertebra by vertebra. ‘How dare you?’
‘Oh, I dare a lot of things. Why should you care, anyway?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Unless you’ve got something to hide?’
‘I’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘Then why won’t you answer the question?’
Katrina folded her arms. ‘Because it’s none of your business, that’s why! As far as I’m concerned, you have no right to question me—unless it relates to Sam.’
His eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t quite define. Suddenly, he was right there in front of her, hand cupping her throat. ‘Answer the question!’
The smell of heated male flesh mixed with sweat folded around her like an invisible cloak. As she inhaled, it was as if she were absorbing little particles of Alex that circulated in her bloodstream like a potent drug.
Swallowing against the warmth of his palm, she managed to say huskily, ‘What’s this all about, Alex?’
What’s this all about?
That was a good question, Alex decided.
It was just a shame he didn’t have an answer.
At least not one he wanted to share.
He didn’t want to admit—even to himself—that jealousy had sent him rushing over here like a man possessed. But there was no other explanation.
And the little green monster was having a field day, eating away at him like acid burning through metal.
Katrina looked unbelievably sexy in an entirely natural way. She might not be wearing any make-up, and her outfit was one that most of his previous lovers would have consigned to the rubbish bin, but all Alex could see was the shapely contours of her body, skin that was glowing with good health and hair that was shining with vitality.
Had Strauss seen Katrina dressed like this? Had he peeled the figure-hugging black top and faded tracksuitbottoms off the sleek lines of her body before making love to her?
‘Who is Peter Strauss to you?’ He knew he shouldn’t ask the question but was unable to hold it back.
She stiffened beneath the loose hold he had on her throat and her cat-like green eyes flashed quick-silver. ‘That is none of your business. Our relationship is over, remember?’ she said, tossing her head.
Her fragrance filtered into the air. Alex inhaled without meaning to, filling his lungs with the smell of her.
His head spun.
His heart pounded.
His body hardened.
Let her go, a little voice in his head instructed with warning. Let her go before you do something stupid.
Alex prided himself on his logic. The little voice in his head made a lot of sense.
Still, Alex couldn’t bring himself to release her.
Frustration imploded inside of him.
She was right.
He knew she was right.
‘I don’t care who you sleep with,’ Alex said harshly, wondering whether she knew he was lying through his teeth. ‘You can sleep with ten men for all I care.’ If she did, he would commit murder. ‘I’m thinking of the child. She needs to be brought up in a moral environment.’
‘The child has a name,’ Katrina said pointedly. ‘And I think that’s a little bit rich coming from you!’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning you’ve had more women than you can probably count, so I don’t think you should be pointing fingers.’
His fingers curled more closely around her throat. ‘Don’t push me, Katrina.’
‘Or what? What will you do? Kiss me again like you did this morning?’ she goaded.
His eyes dropped to her mouth. She had the most beautiful mouth, just made for kissing.
‘Yes,’ he said huskily, and did what he’d wanted to do since he’d walked into the room.
Acting on gut instinct, he bent his head and claimed her mouth with his.
Unlike this morning, Katrina didn’t put up even a show of resistance.
This time, she kissed him right back with a depth of hunger that struck deep inside him.
Groaning in the back of his throat, Alex hooked an arm around the small of her back and pulled her closer until nothing, not even air, came between them.
He ignored the fact that their relationship was over and he shouldn’t be kissing her at all.
He ignored the fact that a young child, in all likelihood his daughter, lay sleeping innocently in the bedroom behind them.
He ignored everything except touching her and tasting her and relishing the familiar feel of her in his arms.
He deepened the kiss. Her arms made their way up and around his neck, where she dug her fingers into his hair.
The flash-fire of primitive desire laid claim to every ounce of tissue in his body. Muscles strained to get closer to her. His skin shrank around his bones. His heart and his pulse didn’t feel as if they belonged to him as they beat out a frantic tattoo.
He urged her backwards, instinctively seeking and finding the lounge. The backs of her knees hit the edge of a seat and he tumbled her on to the cushions.
He looked down. One spaghetti-thin strap had slipped off a creamy shoulder, baring the swell of her breast to his gaze.
His body throbbed—hard.
And, then again, even harder.
Then his eyes landed on a stuffed toy sitting in the corner of the lounge.
It was a brown gorilla. And it appeared to be staring at him.
Alex froze.
This was madness. Absolute and utter madness.
Until this situation was sorted, he shouldn’t be touching her.
He took a step backwards.
And then another.
Then he said, ‘We can’t do this.’
Katrina flopped back against the sofa.
She was weak, breathing heavily, body pulsing.
He was right; they shouldn’t be doing this.
She closed her eyes.
Why, oh why, had she let Alex kiss her? And why, oh why, had she kissed him back? He thought she was a liar and a cheat. He thought she was low enough to try and foist another man’s child on him. She needed her head read for letting him anywhere near her.
She breathed in deeply and willed her heart to stop its frantic beating.
‘I think you’d better leave,’ she murmured without looking at him.
Katrina could feel him looking at her bent head.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked finally.
Her eyes snapped open before flashing to his. ‘I’m fine.