The Devil You Know

Once the screen door shut behind him, she heard his bag drop to the floor and felt his breath on her neck. Then she couldn’t smell the citronella any more, because he was so close to her that she could smell him, his cologne, the same one he always wore, and beneath it, his scent. Her eyes closed, savouring it.

He stroked her hair. “Be honest,” he whispered against her ear, “you missed me.”

She couldn’t deny it, so she said nothing.

His hands closed over her shoulders and he turned her around, forcing her to look at him. “Tansy told me you always ask about me when you email her.”

Tansy had a lot to answer for.

“Idle curiosity.” His proximity overwhelmed her body with need, but her will defied it. She backed away and out of his grasp.

He closed again, reached out and touched one finger against her neck.

A stifled whimper escaped her lips. She tried to shift, but found herself backed against the wall.

“Idle curiosity? Is that all it was?” He rested the palm of his hand at her collarbone, capturing her, holding her still with his fingers on her collarbone.

She tried to quell her erratic breathing, aware that he could see and feel her reactions. He always had this effect on her. A master of seduction, he could push her buttons so easily. Nothing had changed. The only way to deal with it was to ignore him and not rise to his leading comments.

He lifted a strand of hair from her neck and looped it where the rest was clipped on top of her head. The intimate act threw her, fuelling her desires for him and him alone.

Ignore him.

He bent his head and brushed his mouth along her neck.

Shivers of sensation undermined her resolve. He unravelled her so easily, leaving her thoughts and desires naked and vulnerable. “Don’t test me, please,” she begged, but her body gravitated toward his.

“Always so ready for this, aren’t you, Leonie?”

Heat raced over her. He exposed her, thoroughly. She should demand he stop touching her, but she couldn’t. “You promised me. Back in London, you promised that you’d leave me alone. Try at least to be professional.”

“We’re not in London now.”

She rounded her eyes at him. “You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re so beautiful when you’re aroused.”

“I’m not aroused. I’m annoyed.”

He stroked her cheek. “Your eyes flash and your lower lip trembles. Just the way I remembered.”

“Did you come all this way to humiliate me?”

“No. I came all this way because I wanted to be inside you again.”

Her breath caught in her chest, her core contracting with need.

“I came because I wanted to hold you, to taste you…to make you come.” He smiled. “There’s nothing in the whole wide world that feels like that…nothing in the whole world like you, lover.”

He wanted her. He’d come for her. But wasn’t that what he was always like? Always pitching up unannounced, expecting her to fall flat on her back. They never even did normal stuff, like dating. It was work, and sex. She needed more than that.

“You can’t just walk in here and treat me as if we were still in a… well, relationship…if you could even call it that. It was far from a normal relationship.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “What’s so good about normal? If you honestly preferred that you’d be safe at home in London now, not willing to take on the world.”

He had an answer for everything. And still he stroked her collarbone, making her traitorous body yearn for him all the more.

“Besides,” he added, “I seem to recall you liked being pushed out of your normal, comfortable zones…”

“It always comes back to sex.”

“I can’t help wanting you,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you so much, that’s why I had to come.” He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, his expression growing more serious. “Don’t fight it, Leonie. You know it’s going to happen as much as I do.”

She couldn’t quite comprehend what he’d put into words, cheeky devil. And yet—yes—now that he was here, there was such an overwhelming sense of inevitability about it. She’d been longing for his touch since she’d heard he was coming. Would it hurt to have sex, just one more time? Maybe it would, but she’d already done enough hurting without it. Don’t let him take anything for granted.

“Once more for old times sake, huh?” sarcasm rang in her voice, because that’s what he’d said to her when she’d announced she was leaving London.

“Old times were good times.”

They were heady days, for sure, but that didn’t give him the excuse to barge in and take over after she’d managed to pull away and reshape her life. “Shame you didn’t realise that back then.”

“I did.” He locked eyes with her, holding her gaze. “Just because we didn’t do everything by the numbers…what we shared was the best.”

She glared at him, hating that he said that now, when he’d been so flippant a year ago.

He gave her a knowing look. “Don’t be bitter. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What do you care?”

“I’ll show you how much I care.” He pulled his shirt free from his jeans, and undid his belt.

Oh, how her blood rushed, annoyance and lust burning her up from the inside. “Thinking with your cock, as usual?” she snapped.

“You never used to complain.”

Images flashed through her mind, images of him over her, back in her flat in Kensington. They rarely ever slept, even when they spent a whole night together. “Arrogant bastard.”

“Maybe, but I’d like to point out I’ve thought about this a whole lot, and not just with my cock.” His eyebrows lifted and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hips rolling. The belt hung from his hand, a constant reminder of his power over her…