‘You’re too old to play coy games, Shanna,’ he said impatiently. ‘The man wants you, and you know it.’
‘I also know he isn’t going to have me!’ Her eyes flashed deeply green.
‘Shanna——’
‘Henry, I think we should talk,’ she watched his flushed face warily. ‘I don’t like the way you’ve suddenly become involved with that man.’
‘That’s business, Shanna——’
‘But what business? When did Rick Dalmont become interested in the world of newspaper publishing?’
‘He isn’t——’
‘Then what business are you involved in with him?’ she frowned.
‘We can’t talk about it here, Shanna,’ he avoided. ‘This is a party. And you know Janice doesn’t like business discussed at her parties.’
She sighed. ‘Tomorrow, then?’
‘Sunday? Mm, come to lunch,’ he added. ‘Peter and Susan will like that.’
Her expression softened at the mention of her nephew and niece. And she had a feeling she was being manipulated once again, and this time by her own brother; Henry knew how fond of Peter and Susan she was.
‘We’ll talk about Rick Dalmont before lunch.’ She didn’t let him even think he had got away with the distraction. ‘I’ll come over about twelve.’
He grimaced. ‘Fine.’
She smiled at his lack of enthusiasm. ‘You got into this, Henry,’ she drawled at his discomfort. ‘Now you can explain it to me.’
‘Shanna——’
She touched his cheek mockingly. ‘Tomorrow, Henry. And I shall expect a full explanation.’
‘But——’
‘A full explanation,’ she repeated determinedly.
‘I’m beginning to wonder who’s the eldest in this family,’ he muttered before moving away to join his wife, as a couple of the guests were taking their leave.
‘A good question,’ drawled an amused voice from behind her, an unmistakable voice of honey and gravel. Shanna spun round, wondering just how long Rick Dalmont had been listening to her conversation with her brother.
‘You really shouldn’t pressurise Henry, honey,’ he mocked. ‘Now me, you wouldn’t have to pressurise at all.’
‘I told you——’
‘You wouldn’t even have to be persuasive,’ he cut in softly. ‘Let me take you home and I’ll tell you all.’
She stiffened at the intimate warmth of his gaze. ‘I have my car here.’
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Then you drive me home—I came by cab.’
‘I’d rather not,’ she refused distantly.
Anger flashed in the dark eyes. ‘No wonder your husband turned to other women!’ he rasped.
Shanna went deathly pale. ‘What did you say?’
‘When a man is frozen out of his own bed it’s inevitable that he’ll turn to other women for physical satisfaction,’ he scorned.
‘Are you saying that’s what Perry did?’
‘It’s public knowledge,’ he shrugged again.
‘Is it?’
‘Was he still sleeping with you before he died?’
‘Our sleeping arrangements have nothing to do with—Oh!’ she gave a painful gasp as her wrist was grasped and her arm twisted up behind her back, her body brought dangerously close to the hard-muscled flesh of Rick Dalmont. ‘Let me go,’ she ordered between gritted teeth.
‘Smile,’ he instructed curtly, his teeth showing white against his dark complexion. ‘I said smile, damn it,’ he bit out savagely at her lack of response to his order.
She looked about them desperately, amazed that no one could see what this man was doing to her. And then she realised that several people who had come here alone were now in rather close clinches with a man or woman they had met here tonight. Janice would be shocked to know that some of these couples whom she had only just introduced would even be in bed together later tonight.
But not Rick Dalmont and herself. And he was still hurting her, his hold on her arm brutal. ‘How can I smile when you’re breaking my arm?’ she groaned.
He lightened his grip slightly, although the relaxation made her body curve more intimately against him. ‘I’m sorry,’ but he didn’t look very repentant. ‘Now answer my question,’ he ground out.
‘I’ve forgotten what it was,’ she muttered.!
‘Liar!’
She blinked at the vehemence of his tone. ‘I won’t discuss my marriage to Perry with you!’
Rick sighed, releasing her completely at the inflexibility of her tone. ‘Even in the face of danger you choose to defy me.’
‘Danger?’ She raised black brows.
‘So cool,’ he shook his head. ‘It isn’t natural. Your eyes speak of fire, of all you have to give a man——’
‘Not you!’
‘Me,’ his eyes glittered furiously. ‘I’m getting tired of waiting for you, Shanna——’
‘What is it, Mr Dalmont?’ She refused to rub her aching wrist and arm; she wouldn’t show any weakness to this man, ever. ‘Did you think that because I’ve been widowed for the last six months I would fall into your arms like an over-ripe plum? Did you think I would be so sexually frustrated that you would have no trouble at all getting me into bed with you?’ Her voice rose angrily.
‘Maybe you’re sexually cold,’ he dismissed.
‘Oh, that’s usually the next insult!’ she scorned. ‘Then I’m supposed to sleep with you just to prove that I’m not cold at all. I’ve been through it all before, Mr Dalmont. I must say, I’m disappointed in you—I expected more sophistication from you.’