For Revenge...Or Pleasure?. Trish Morey

nothing appeared to be moving or out of place between the walls of floor-to-ceiling books. She was imagining things. Against her throat Loukas’s mouth continued to weave magic, complicating the push-pull of her fears and her wants as the sound came again.

      Sounds.

      In tune now with more than just the rush of blood in her ears, this time she heard a softer gasping moan answer the straining sounds. And more sounds, now louder, and more grunting, punctuated by urgent panting and then the unmistakable slap of flesh against flesh, building in speed, steadily and inexorably.

      She squeezed her eyes shut again, wishing she could close down her hearing, afraid to breathe, afraid to move. Someone was making love—right here in the library—and they’d inadvertently stumbled right into their secret tryst.

      But there was no shutting out what was happening, and the sounds fed into her consciousness, reminding her why she’d come there, and setting her flesh to prickling awareness of the man holding her even in her shock.

      Because they’d come here to engage in that same act—to make those same noises, to seek that same inexorable release.

      Loukas’s mouth stilled and he pulled back as he too realised what was happening. He touched one finger to her lips and pulled her closer against him, as if sheltering her from what was happening while he edged a look over his shoulder. They had to get out of here. He would surely know that as well as she did. But before they could make a move a sound and a sudden movement in the low light drew her eyes directly to the source—and she found them.

      Mostly hidden from view, sheltered from the door behind a long sofa, it was no wonder that whoever it was had been too absorbed to realise they had company. She was just about to turn her face away when the man rocked back on his knees and she recognised him.

      Mayor Goldfinch!

      No wonder the library door had been unlocked—Grace must have brought him here.

      Now Jade had to get out, and take Loukas, before either of them saw her. She would never in a million years subject Grace to that kind of embarrassment. She couldn’t let her find out that they had inadvertently stumbled upon them during such a private act.

      She prodded Loukas to leave, but he stilled her movements. ‘Wait,’ he whispered, so quietly she half wondered if she’d inhaled his words instead. ‘Wait just a moment.’

      But she didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want to hear any more, to be witness to anyone’s lovemaking—least of all to Grace’s. More than anything she wanted to get out, now, and it took supreme strength of will to remain cradled in Loukas’s arms while she waited seemingly for ever for the pair to resume their frantic activities.

      The sounds of motion and mounting excitement finally resumed, telling her Mayor Goldfinch had Grace exactly where he wanted her once more. She wanted to close her ears as every sound, every whimper, fed into her own needs, making her overwhelmingly aware of what she herself might be doing right now, of what she’d given her tacit agreement to. Her flesh shimmied into action where Loukas held her, where she brushed up alongside him, as the aura of coupling wrapped itself around them.

      But at last they were moving out of here. Loukas was just manoeuvring her closer to the door, ready to bundle her out, when she heard gruff words.

      ‘Oh, Rach. Oh, sweet baby, I’ve missed you.’

      For a second she thought she’d misheard the name—it had to have been Grace that he’d said—but then she spied the lush sheen of red satin slung over the settee, had recognised the young, drawling tones responding enthusiastically to the Mayor’s encouragement and cold revulsion worked its clammy way up her spine.

      Because it wasn’t Grace that Mayor Goldfinch was entertaining. It was Rachael Delaney!

      She almost cried out with the shock, but a large firm hand clamped down over her mouth, rendering her mute. Under cover of the noise of the couple’s latest activities, Loukas had the door pulled open and whisked her back outside before she could react—and before the couple could know what was happening.

      She burst free from his grip and threw herself along the passageway, gulping in great mouthfuls of air, trying to clear her lungs of the filth of that room.

      ‘Jade!’ she heard him call. ‘Jade!’

      She couldn’t answer—wouldn’t stop as she fled. She wanted to go upstairs to her suite but, knowing Loukas might follow her, she made for the safety of the crowded ballroom. Did Grace have any idea the man she was hoping would propose was busy slaking his lust on one of her guests? Did she have any idea the man she was hoping to marry was such a low-class act?

      She had to get away. Away from the betrayal going on behind her. Away from the cheap act that she herself had been about to take part in.

      Loukas had said he wanted to make love to her, and she’d let herself be swept away—yet it wasn’t love that people made in secret trysts like the one they’d just happened upon. There was no love involved. It was just sex—pure, unadulterated animal lust—and she’d just about let herself cave into the same base desires.

      She felt sick to the stomach.

      A steel band took hold of her arm, wheeling her around. ‘Stop.’

      She looked up into his eyes, wanting but unable to contain her desperate need for oxygen.

      ‘Let me go,’ she insisted.

      ‘You were happy for me to touch you before.’

      ‘That was before. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I should never have gone with you. I should never have led you on like that.’

      ‘You didn’t lead me on. We both wanted to make love. Still want to make love. You can’t deny that.’

      ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head wildly, as if to shake out the soiled images and damning sounds that replayed endlessly through her mind. ‘Not like that. That wasn’t love that was being made in there. I was wrong. I’m sorry.’

      ‘Come with me, then. We’ll get out of this rats’ nest and talk.’

      ‘No.’ She held one hand up as she backed away. Her skin burned with both humiliation and embarrassment. It was bad enough having lived through the experience without having to analyse it. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Demakis. There’s nothing to talk about.’ Then she turned and fled into the ballroom.

      ‘This isn’t over!’

      There was no point arguing with him; she just kept right on surging away from him. He’d picked the wrong woman, that was all. No more explanations necessary.

      If it was just quick sex he was after she had no doubt he’d find someone else for the night—a woman who would be more accommodating and who had less hang-ups, who wouldn’t be fazed about sharing a room with another couple hard at it, a woman who would happily look elsewhere if she was in that situation. And there was every chance he’d find that woman here.

      With his looks he’d have his pick. And she’d almost fallen for him—hook, line and sinker. To think he’d swayed her so much with that line of his—‘I came here to meet you.’ She’d played right into his hands. Thank God she’d had enough sense not to take him upstairs to her suite—there would have been no escape then.

      No, he’d find someone else in short order, and there was no chance she’d ever see Mr Loukas Demakis again.

      The rush of relief she felt at that prospect evaporated the instant she noticed the last person she wanted to talk to right now heading straight for her.

      ‘Oh, Jade,’ Grace said, casting her eyes all about the room. ‘You haven’t seen Mayor Goldfinch anywhere?’

      Jade stood blankly, her stomach lurching as she fought to raise her eyes above shoe level.

      ‘Only I wanted to show him the clinic’s latest plans for expansion, and he seems to have disappeared.’

      ‘I