She stroked his cheek, kissed him greedily, and then let her tongue slide between his lips. One taste of him had her breathless and aching for more.

He cupped her chin. Breathing as hard and fast as she was, he tightened his arms around her body.

More than anything she wanted to make him forget all the others, at least while she was with him. Her kisses and exploring fingertips became white-hot. She poured her soul into every caress, into every feather-light kiss. He was equally ferocious and needy. His kisses were so ardent and scorchingly intimate, he swept her away, and she wondered what he might need to prove.

They made love violently on the enormous bed and then tenderly in the gold-trimmed marble shower. Afterward she clung to him, breathing hard, while his hands and lips continued to caress her with such reverence and hunger she felt totally adored. Which made no sense. Still, she turned her wet head, snuggling closer against his hot, tanned shoulder, her pulse beating faster than it should have.

“You’re a good teacher,” she whispered, trying to lighten the mood.

“Is that all you think that was?” His voice and eyes were dark and hard. “Sex lessons well learned from an experienced teacher? Dammit!” He jerked free of her.

“Remy!”

He slammed out of the shower and snapped a towel off the rack.

Cold air rushed into the shower, chilling her.

Whipping the towel around his waist, he charged out of the bathroom.

“Remy!”

He didn’t answer or return.

She laid her head against the cold, wet marble as steam seeped out of the shower.

She felt desperately unhappy, and she couldn’t bear to think why.

Ten

T oo furious to call his engineer or even to dress, Remy stormed to the bar. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows revealed an expansive view of Cannes. Dark clouds were sweeping across the Mediterranean. Not that Remy gave much thought to the view or the weather.

He grabbed a crystal glass and splashed scotch into it so recklessly the liquor sloshed all over his hands.Hard liquor on an empty stomach. Before dinner. He was drinking like an American.

He bolted the shot, grimaced against its fire and his fierce need for more of the same. He picked the bottle up and then put it down. Shoving his glass away, he turned from the bar.

Damn her! He remembered rolling with her on the big bed, their legs and arms entwined, his mouth sucking and licking all her secret satiny places until she quivered and moaned. He shuddered as he recalled how good she’d felt when he’d thrust inside her that final time. No woman had ever felt half so good, so hot or moist, so tight or wildly responsive. God, she was sweet.

She’s playing a silly game, and you’re her toy, you fool. The trouble is you’re not playing. Not anymore.

She’d made it very clear she was using him. He had to get a grip. He knew too well what it was like for life to take a dark turn, and for mistakes to become irreparable.

He wouldn’t make another one.

He wasn’t falling in love with her.

He wasn’t that stupid.

This was about sex. That was all she wanted, so it couldn’t be about anything else.

Amy was leaning toward the brilliantly lit mirror with an eyebrow pencil cocked above the curve of her eyebrow, when Remy knocked.She started. “Come in.”

The door opened. Instantly her hand began to shake so badly she had to put the pencil down. Only, her hand moved too jerkily, and the pencil spun onto the floor and rolled across the polished marble straight at him.

Leaning down, he picked it up. He stood up slowly, tension radiating from him as he slowly set it on the counter.

“You look nice,” she said, noting his dark jacket and slacks.

When he said nothing she picked up the pencil and rushed to fill the awkward silence with words.

“Did you make your calls?” she asked.

“No. I had a stiff drink. Then I went for a short run. Nothing like the miracle of booze and endorphins to improve one’s mood.”

She smiled. His attempt to do the same was fleeting and tense.

“You were fast, too,” she whispered. “Much faster than me.”

“Take all the time you need. I still have to call my engineer and the architect. When you’re ready, I’ll take you out. Oh, and dress up. We’ll eat somewhere fancy, and maybe later we’ll dance. Or if you prefer to gamble, there are two casinos where we might run into friends, and I can show you off.”

She would have preferred to stay in the villa with him, but perhaps being alone with him wasn’t the best idea. She felt too vulnerable and needy, too much her real self. And despite his run, he seemed edgy.

After he left, she went into the bedroom and opened her suitcase, rummaging through it until she found the flirty red dress and silver shoes she’d worn in London. She spread them on the rumpled sheets where they’d recently made such sweet love.

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