The Dominant Male. Sarah Holland

he said under his breath, sensing the depth of the change in her emotions.

      The note of compassion in his voice made tears sting her eyes, and she went rigid with the fear that she might break down.

      His footsteps sounded behind her. ‘What’s wrong?’

      ‘Nothing!’

      A big gentle hand touched her shoulder. ‘Hey…look at me…’

      ‘No!’ she said thickly, feeling pathetic as she struggled not to cry, standing with her back to him like an obstinate child while the tears burned at her eyes.

      The seconds ticked away in tense silence and Gabriel Stone felt the tremors of emotion in her shoulders as he held her.

      ‘Come on,’ he said softly. ‘Why the big emotional display?’

      ‘I’m not being emotional!’

      ‘Then what are you doing?’ He laughed seductively. ‘Any minute now you’ll stamp your foot like a little girl and—’

      She reacted as though stung. ‘Don’t laugh at me! My personal feelings are none of your business!’

      ‘But I’m going to make them my business.’ He turned her with infinite care, as though she were a precious piece of porcelain.

      Her tear-filled eyes met his.

      ‘Ah…’ The tough face softened.

      ‘And don’t patronise me either!’

      ‘Forgive me,’ he murmured with a smile. ‘But it melts the strongest heart to see you show such helpless femininity. You’re quite a powerful woman, you know, Rhiannon. It’s touching to see how very female you can be.’

      Rhiannon felt absurdly flattered, and hated herself for it. ‘I suppose that brings us very neatly to the point, doesn’t it? You want to dedicate yourself to reducing me to a state of helpless femininity!’

      ‘Why, so I do!’ he drawled with a flash of mockery in his eyes. ‘But I thought my intentions towards you were understood. Or weren’t you listening to me on Saturday?’

      ‘I was listening…’ She lowered her lashes, staring at the dark red silk tie against the white shirt and powerful chest.

      ‘Then you know,’ he said deeply, ‘that I want you badly enough to find out why you’re involved in that dull, sexless relationship.’

      ‘You have no proof that it’s dull or sexless!’

      ‘Rhiannon, I could see it with my own eyes.’

      ‘Because he didn’t kiss me? How do you know he didn’t ravish me as soon as we got home that night?’

      He tensed, frowning. ‘I don’t believe it!’

      She carried on staring at his chest.

      ‘Well?’ he demanded thickly. ‘Did he make love to you? Has he ever made love to you?’

      I could lie, she thought, holding her breath. I could say Bobby made love to me and then he’d go away, never come back…never make wild, passionate love to me…

      ‘Tell me!’ Gabriel bit out under his breath, and his long fingers tightened on her shoulders. ‘Tell me, damn you, or I’ll—!’

      ‘No.’

      He relaxed. He even drew a sharp breath. Those eyes moved rapidly over her face and the white line of his mouth curved as he gave a wry smile.

      ‘I was right, then,’ he drawled arrogantly. ‘He is a wimp!’

      Her eyes flashed angrily up to meet his from under her lashes.

      ‘Was I right about everything, Rhiannon? Oh, I can see from that look that I was!’ He laughed under his breath as she tried angrily to get away from him. ‘No, you don’t! You’re staying right here until I’ve got what I wanted from you!’

      ‘You’re never going to get that, Mr Stone!’ she said furiously, fighting to escape those hard fingers. ‘I am engaged to another man. When will you get that through your thick head?’

      ‘My head is many things, but thick isn’t one of them. And if I want to take you to bed, I damned well will.’

      ‘The only way you’ll get me into bed is as a corpse!’

      ‘Oh, you’ll be very much alive. You’ll also be powerless, naked and more than willing.’

      Without stopping to think, she moved to slap him hard—and missed.

      He was too quick for her, catching her hand at the wrist and leaving her struggling impotently once more while he grinned down at her, amused.

      ‘Darling!’ he mocked. ‘You don’t have to go to such lengths to show me you’re climbing the walls with sexual frustration.’

      ‘How dare you speak to me like that?’ she gibbered. ‘How dare you?’

      ‘Because I want you to be happy, you stupid, obstinate female!’

      ‘I’ll only be happy when you get out of my life!’

      ‘I’m here to stay, Rhiannon!’

      ‘But why? Why? I don’t want you here!’

      ‘And I don’t want to see a woman like you marrying a pompous, half-witted, sexless little idiot like Bobby—what’s his name?’

      ‘Pratt,’ she snapped, without thinking of the repercussions, and then realised precisely what she had done.

      There was a long, stunned silence. The hot sunlight blazed over them from the wide airy windows and London’s skyscrapers glittered far above the stately white palaces of centuries past.

      Gabriel started to laugh. ‘What? You’re kidding me! His name is not Pratt!’

      ‘It’s not his fault!’ She glared at him furiously.

      ‘Oh, I quite agree!’ He was laughing so much his powerful chest was shaking. ‘He can’t help being a complete and utter—’

      ‘Right, that’s it! I am not staying here to listen to my fiancé being insulted by a swine like you!’

      ‘Oh, come on! Where’s your sense of humour?’ The light in his eyes was so incandescent that it was irresistible to her, making her heart move and her own eyes light up in response to his personality, his wit, his soul. ‘Darling, the man’s been living up to his name for years! You can’t marry him! And I absolutely refuse to allow you to become a Pratt yourself!’

      She looked away, obstinately refusing to be moved by him. He could be as charming as he liked. She refused point-blank to be swayed by him.

      Apart from that—she had to confess that from the moment she had met Bobby his surname had been one of her strongest objections to him. But she didn’t want Gabriel Stone to know that.

      He smiled, his eyes filled with affection. ‘You know what I’m saying is right. So come on…stop fighting me. The cards predicted we’d be lovers. Why don’t you just give in to destiny—and to me?’

      ‘I’m in control of my destiny,’ she said in a husky voice. ‘Not a set of tarot cards, and certainly not you!’

      ‘Fine. I want you to be in control of your destiny. It’s your body I’m going to take control of.’

      She raised her head. ‘And what if I won’t let you?’

      ‘Oh, you’ll let me!’ he drawled, eyes hardening to ruthless steel so suddenly that she caught her breath with excitement just to see the different reflections of this multi-faceted man: ‘You’ll let me all right, Rhiannon! I’m going to encourage you to submit—and then I’m going to make a woman out of you!’

      ‘You think I’d give