She shivered, and the feathering of her flesh reminded her of where she was, and what she was doing. The dance-floor was getting crowded, and when a careless elbow nudged her in the ribs her determination hardened. She could have withstood the painful jab quite easily, but she chose not to. With a startled cry, she launched herself against him, successfully dislodging his hands, and clutching his lapels.
‘God!’
Cole’s reaction was just as violent as she had anticipated, but when he would have drawn back again her hands slid up to his neck.
‘Sorry,’ she breathed, her breath wafting sweetly across his cheek, and a nerve jerked spasmodically at his jawline.
‘What in hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded, his hands reaching up to grab her forearms, with the obvious intention of hauling them down from his shoulders. ‘Damn you, keep still!’
‘I’m just dancing,’ she protested innocently, rotating her hips against his. ‘Don’t be so touchy! You need all the help you can get.’
‘I did warn you,’ he grated, and with a little sigh Joanna allowed him to pull her arms down to her sides.
But she didn’t move away from him. And, although Cole would clearly have preferred to leave the dance-floor, they were trapped within the circle of the other dancers.
‘Is this so bad?’ she asked, looking up at him with wide tawny eyes, and she saw the glittering awareness enter his. He might not want to admit it, but his reasons for keeping her at a distance were not because he didn’t like dancing with her. And when his gaze dropped to the appealing curve of her soft mouth Joanna felt her own senses sharpen.
‘We’re leaving,’ said Cole abruptly, taking her upper arm between his forefinger and thumb, and pushing her determinedly through the swaying press of people. His nails bit into her flesh as he steered her back to their table. ‘Get your bag. I’ll pay the bill.’
‘But what about our coffee?’ she argued, looking longingly at the breakfast-size cups of the aromatic brew waiting on the table, but Cole was unrepentant.
‘You can get some coffee back at the hotel,’ he stated bleakly, and summoned the startled waiter who had served them.
Outside, Joanna did feel slightly unsteady in the night air. But Cole’s expression forbade any attempt to use his arm for support, and when the taxi came she collapsed gratefully into the back.
Cole gave the driver his instructions, and then joined her on the back seat. But his mouth was scornful in the half-light. ‘You really are smashed, aren’t you?’ he declared, shaking his head. ‘My God! And I thought we might have a serious conversation.’
Joanna turned her head towards him, her dark hair falling sensuously over one shoulder. ‘What about?’ she asked silkily, sweeping it back again. ‘The fact that you still want me?’
Cole swore, and turned his head away. ‘You wish,’ he snarled, clenching his fists. ‘God, why did I ever agree to this pointless exercise?’
‘Because Daddy asked you to,’ retorted Joanna shortly. ‘And you always do everything Daddy says, don’t you? You’re Daddy’s blue-eyed boy. Even if it means sacrificing other people in the process!’
Cole’s jaw clamped. ‘Shut up!’
‘Why?’ Joanna felt fairly safe in baiting him, with the comfortingly broad shoulders of the Bahamian taxi driver firmly in view. ‘You don’t like to hear the truth, Cole. In fact, you don’t hear anything but what Daddy says. I’m surprised you ever learned how to have sex with a woman! Or was Daddy in on that, too——?’
Cole moved then, covering the space between them in one swift lunge. His hand closed about her throat, cutting off her words with unexpected violence, and his eyes glittered dangerously in the twilight world of the cab.
‘Shut up,’ he commanded again. ‘Shut the hell up!’ And then, as her eyes fought with his, and terror gripped her stomach, he uttered a muffled oath and brought his mouth down on hers.
As kisses went, it wasn’t pleasant. With Cole’s hand practically cutting off the air to her windpipe, Joanna could hardly have been expected to enjoy it. On top of that, despite the lightness of his hair, and the fact that he had probably shaved before coming out, Cole’s chin was abrasively male. And as his mouth ground against her teeth, all Joanna could think of was how abused she was going to look when he let go of her.
But something happened when he kissed her. Although his original intention had been to hurt and humiliate her, that melding of their mouths seduced his reason. A groan of anguish rumbled in his throat, and he tore his mouth from hers, only to return again with an urgent imprecation.
And when he did so, his fingers relaxed, releasing her throat from his throttling grasp. Instead of bruising her flesh, they became achingly gentle, smoothing the tortured skin with a sensuous caress.
Now, Joanna felt as if her breathing had been suspended. Her chest rose and fell with the tumult of her emotions, but she didn’t seem to be getting any oxygen into her lungs. Indeed, there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the car, and her senses swam dizzily beneath his searching touch.
Cole’s kiss became hungry, and fiercely demanding. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, and she let it have its way. That hot, wet invader was disturbingly familiar, and her tongue twined around it, helpless to resist. There was nothing gentle about him now, but his demands inspired a matching need. Her legs splayed, her head dipped low against the squabs, and when his hand slid inside the neckline of her dress and touched her breasts she felt her arousal, clear down to her thighs.
The cab, braking outside the brilliantly lit foyer of the Coral Bay Hotel, brought Cole, belatedly, to his senses. With a groan of anguish he pushed himself up and away from her, but not before the smirking taxi driver had glimpsed what had been going on.
Joanna struggled up with rather less energy. She was still bemused by the upheaval of her senses, and it was difficult to think coherently, when her body was dewy with perspiration. Her hair was mussed about her shoulders, and even in the semi-gloom of the cab she guessed her swollen lips had not gone unremarked. And even Cole made a point of buttoning his jacket as he got out of the car.
She knew why, thought Joanna tensely, stumbling out after him. Standing on the floodlit forecourt, she wet her bruised lips with a soothing tongue. Cole had been as aroused as she was. She had felt the heavy heat of his manhood against her stomach, its throbbing tumescence straining at the zip of his trousers. Known, too, that Cole’s self-control had been slipping. He had wanted her; she knew it. And if they hadn’t been interrupted …
‘Let’s get inside.’
Cole’s hand at her elbow, and his harsh impersonal tone brought her swiftly back to earth. With a gesture that was barely civil, he escorted her inside the hotel. Then, after accompanying her to the bank of elevators, he inclined his head and released her.
But, when he would have walked away, Joanna caught his arm. ‘Where are you going?’
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