Kiss me, she thought, looking up at him. Kiss me.
The way he looked down at her, pulling her close in the Spanish moonlight, almost made her forget why she was doing this. All she could think of was that they both hated the same men, and that she wanted Marcos to kiss her.
She slowly ran her hands down his chest. She could feel the muscles through his crisp linen shirt, feel the beat of his heart. “Tell me,” she whispered. “Tell me what they did, what you intend to do in return.”
He grabbed her hands, forced them to be still. His handsome face looked ferocious, almost savage.
Kiss me. She took the final step that pressed her body fully against his. She looked up. He was much taller than she was, but in this moment, as she looked up at him in the sultry jasmine-scented night, she realized she’d lost all fear.
“You aren’t alone, Marcos.” She pressed her cheek against his. His chin felt rough against her skin. Her lips brushed against his ear as she said softly, “Let me help you…”
She heard his sudden intake of breath. He pulled back, forcing her away from him.
“It won’t work,” he said harshly.
“What won’t?” she asked, feeling dazed by her own sudden longing. All she could think about was him kissing her, feeling his lips on hers.
“Do you really think that you can just flirt and toss your hair and I’ll be so dazzled I’ll let you escape?”
Her cheeks burned red-hot. So he knew. He knew she was trying to lull him into letting her escape. “No, I—”
“I’m not that stupid. I won’t let you go just for a few cheap kisses.”
What was he trying to tell her? Shocked, she met his eyes. But she didn’t have time to feel humiliated. She didn’t have time to think. She was desperate—desperate enough to offer anything. She took a deep breath. “And what if I offered you more than just kisses?”
“Your body, you mean?” Apparently unaware of what it cost her to even suggest such a thing, he snorted in derision. “If I wanted you, I could seduce you. Easily.”
“That’s not true!” she gasped, hurt.
His dark eyes regarded her smugly. “We both know it is.”
She ground her teeth. Perhaps it was true, that in her inexperience, she’d revealed that she wanted him, but she’d have died rather than admit it. “For your information, I’ve resisted much better men than you. Handsomer. Richer. Smarter.”
“Have you?” he said evenly. He ran his hand beneath her jaw line, forcing her to look up at him. “So if I were to kiss you now, you’re saying that you would feel nothing.”
“Not a thing,” she said defiantly.
“Really.” He wrapped his arms around her. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, stopping when his lips were a millimeter from hers. “So this leaves you cold?”
She could feel his breath, smell the sweetness of brandy. Her lips felt swollen, tingling as if warming after frostbite, expanding towards his. “Completely.”
“And this?”
He drew her to him in a hot, hard embrace. As he kissed her, her blood boiled, her body felt consumed by fire. Her bones went limp. Dimly, she could hear some inner voice screaming. There was something she was supposed to do while he kissed her. Something.
She felt his hands brush her bare back as he pressed her against the balustrade. His hips moved against her and she sighed beneath his mouth. She wanted something. What was it? To press her body against his? To let him lift her? To spread her legs and wrap them around his waist? To let him make love to her and finally learn the great mystery that most women her age already knew?
She felt dizzy in his arms. Trying to steady herself, she brushed her hand against his hip. She felt the small rectangle of the mobile phone in his pocket and her plans came rushing back.
His phone.
Later, she thought, dazed. Plenty of time for that later, after she’d had her fill of kisses…
But then she remembered Nicole’s face, pinched and hungry as she’d seen it last month. She hated Marcos for his cold arrogance, for kidnapping her, for keeping her in captivity.
So why was it so hard for her to stop kissing him?
Hardening her heart, she forced herself to slip the phone out of his pocket. Hiding it in the palm of her hand, she pulled away, looked him straight in the eye and lied.
“I felt nothing.”
He blinked at her. His voice was hoarse as he replied,
“You’re lying.”
“I’m a Winter,” she said. “Just like you said. A liar and a thief.” She took a step backwards. “Perhaps you should send me to the tower.”
“Perhaps I should,” he muttered, raking his hand through his hair.
She turned to go and, for a moment, she thought he was actually going to let her leave with her prize. Then he wrapped his hand over her closed fist, pinning her to the stone balustrade. “Wait.”
“What?” Her heart was pounding. Any moment he’d discover that she was hiding his phone in her hand.
He bent his head to whisper in her ear and a pulse ran through her body as she felt his lips brush against the sensitive flesh of her earlobe. “I have to say, after all I’ve heard about your seductive skills, I’m disappointed. It was a clumsy attempt at best.”
Oh! His insult left her vibrating with humiliation and rage. “You’re the one who kissed me!”
He gave a derisive laugh.
“I just wanted to see how far you would go. Now I know. You’ve proved my point—you’ll fall into my bed at the slightest provocation. So please don’t try to bargain with your body again.” His lip curled. “I can obviously get that for free.”
She had to get out of here before he goaded her into saying something she’d regret. Still hiding the phone, she drew her hand away. Pressing her fist against the fabric of her skirt, she said furiously, “I’d rather be locked in the tower than spend another minute with you.”
“Fine,” he growled. “I’m sick of the sight of…” He stopped suddenly, his fingers tightening over her fist.
“What’s in your hand?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing!” He forced her fingers open to reveal the phone. Barking a laugh, he took it away from her.
“Why, you conniving little tart.” He looked at her in amazement. “You’re even more clever than I thought.”
Clever? She felt sick. She’d lost. It had almost killed her to laugh and flirt with the cold-hearted beast all night, but she’d done it. Now it was all for nothing.
But she couldn’t let him see her anguish. Ignoring the hard lump in her throat, she raised her chin, glaring at him.
“Why else would I let you kiss me? Just being near you makes my skin crawl.”
He gave her an amused smile, but his dark eyes glittered with anger and something more—bitterness? “And to think I almost believed your little show of compassion. ‘I care, Marcos’,” he mimicked. “‘You aren’t alone, Marcos’. You really are a Winter through and through—a thief and a liar. I almost believed that you actually hated Aziz.”
“I wasn’t lying about that!” she cried.
“Yes, you hate him so much you can’t wait to throw yourself in his bed. Fresh from mine, presumably.