A muscle worked in his tanned cheek. ‘Try putting some clothes on, then,’ he said moodily.
Feigning a bravado she did not feel, Triss swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her panties fluttered redundantly to the floor, and she noticed that he quickly turned away to face the window.
‘I’ll wait next door,’ he told her shortly, and when Triss saw the unmistakable distaste which had thinned his sensual lips a slow anger began to burn away inside her.
‘A little late to play the gentleman now, surely?’ she mocked.
He turned around to subject her to a slow, insolent scrutiny. ‘What’s that, Triss?’ he queried softly. ‘Cue for me to come over there and do it to you some more?’
She recoiled from the wounding words. ‘Why are you insulting me like this?’
‘Perhaps I’m repaying the compliment, sweetheart! A man doesn’t find it particularly flattering to be used as a stud—especially by a woman who once professed to love him. Is that what you brought me here for, Triss—to service you? Surely there must be someone who lives a little closer than Malibu who would be able to oblige?’
She forgot that she was virtually naked, forgot everything except the desire to hurt him, hurling herself across the room and launching herself at him, all flailing arms and flexed fingernails.
But Cormack was faster, his face a mixture of scorn and reluctant desire as he contained her by imprisoning her in the steely circle of his arms. ‘Is this another previously undiscovered side to Triss Alexander? The spitting wildcat who needs subduing? And let me guess how she best wants me to subdue her, hmm? Like this?’
His lips were hot and hungry and hers were no different, and Triss found to her despair that just one touch was enough to awaken in her a primitive arousal more powerful than anything she could previously remember.
His hands were sliding all over her almost naked body, quickly disposing of the ruined bra, sinuously exploring every secret curve with an expert thoroughness which he had never displayed before. Not ever.
It was almost as if he had held back with her when they had lived together, as though her inexperience had made him especially gentle with her.
Well, he was certainly not being gentle with her now. And, what was more, she didn’t want him to be. She wanted his hands to explore her like this, and she longed for him to fill and possess her again.
She was about to sink to the floor and drag him with her when he stopped kissing and touching her as suddenly as if he had just discovered that she was contaminated, and Triss stared up at him with eyes which were dazed and confused.
‘Cormack?’
‘No, Triss! No! This is not going to happen. Not again.’ His voice was pitiless as he pushed her away from him. ‘I will not be used as a convenient pawn to satisfy your sexual frustration!’
‘But I—’
‘Get dressed!’ he ordered, and something in his eyes made her want to cringe away from him, like a dog who had been beaten. ‘I’ll wait next door!’ And he stormed from the bedroom, nearly bringing the door off its hinges.
It took Triss several minutes before she could even think about managing to get dressed, and she forced herself to breathe deeply as she had been taught in her yoga classes. Even so, it still seemed to take ages before she had calmed down enough to get her thoughts together.
She hadn’t known how long they would be at the cottage, but she had guessed at a good few hours at least, during which time she had planned to tell Cormack quietly about Simon. And then she had assumed that he would want to accompany her back to St Fiacre’s for the first glimpse of his son.
But nothing ever turned out as you expected, and she certainly had not anticipated that brief and frantic bout of sex on the bed—for it definitely could not be described as making love.
Oh, it had been ultimately satisfying—sex with Cormack always was—but it had left her feeling empty and ashamed. And it made her feel rather ill to know that she had behaved with about as much pride as one of the countless women who used to hand him their telephone numbers in restaurants.
At least she had had the foresight to bring a change of clothes with her—although as she pulled on a pair of black denims and a cream cable-knit sweater she wondered whether that had been a subconscious preparation for what had just taken place.
She ran her fingers back through her short red-brown hair and walked into the sitting room, to find that Cormack had put his leather jacket back on and was in the process of bending down to pick up his helmet.
‘You’re not going?’ she cried in alarm.
He stood up and looked at her, his face as expressionless as she could ever remember seeing it. ‘Yes, I’m going.’
Triss panicked, aware that all her carefully laid plans were crumbling like dust around her. ‘But why—why rush off?’ she queried, hating the sound of her garbled question.
He raised his eyebrows in a look of incredulity. ‘I thought I made my feelings clear a moment ago.’
Offensively clear—but that was not the point. Triss tried to swallow down the panicky feeling which was making her head swim. ‘You don’t understand!’
He shook his head. ‘Oh, I think I do, Triss. And I’m not exactly proud of what just happened.’
Triss frowned, dismayed and baffled by his reaction. And angry too. ‘But you enjoyed it, didn’t you, Cormack?’ she accused him.
His mouth twisted. ‘Enjoyed it?’ he echoed. ‘I could think of a lot more appropriate words to describe how that rather sordid little coupling made me feel, but I suspect that you might be insulted if I used any of them.’
She tried one last time, biting back the urge to agree with him—and to get as far away from him as possible. ‘Cormack, you don’t understand—’
‘Yes!’ he cut in mercilessly. ‘I do. That’s just the trouble—I understand only too well! We’re no good for each other, you and I, Triss! We can’t live together—we just destroy each other. The sex between us is mind-blowing—it always was—but at least before there was communication and affection. Even occasional laughter, which inevitably comes when you live together—at least at the beginning,’ he finished heavily.
‘Cormack, just let me explain—’
He shook his head. ‘Hear me out first, Triss. And perhaps that might spare both of us the indignity of something like this happening again. This must be the last time we see each other—do you understand that? Do you, Triss?’
He looked at her, his features tightly contained, as if he was determined not to betray one flicker of emotion. ‘Since our relationship is finished and all that is left is physical attraction—it diminishes whatever we once had between us—or it will if we give in to it. So we won’t. And I think that the only way to guarantee that happening is for us not to see one another again.’
She watched as he ran one long forefinger caressingly over the shiny red and silver surface of his helmet in an unconsciously sensual gesture, and then he gazed at her directly, his blue eyes searingly candid.
‘I cared for you more than any woman I’ve ever known, Triss—perhaps more than I ever will in the future. It just didn’t work out. That’s all. That’s life.’ He attempted a conciliatory smile, but Triss felt that he might as well have been firing poisoned darts at her.
‘At least we didn’t make it as far as the altar,’ he continued. ‘And at least we didn’t have children together. We might have messed each other’s lives up, Triss, but at least we didn’t inflict misery on any defenceless offspring.’
She could not let him say any more. His words had already ripped through what little self-possession she had left and had left her in no doubt whatsoever