Undying Love. Кэрол Мортимер

body as he came to stand beside her, could smell the spicy aftershave that was exclusive to him, as were the cheroots he smoked.

      ‘Shanna,’ he greeted in a voice of gravel and honey. She had been surprised by that voice the first time she heard it, had never heard such a smoothly seductive voice cloaked in such husky tones, his accent softly American.

      ‘Mr Dalmont,’ she returned smoothly, knowing he found her distant behaviour amusing.

      ‘Could I get you a drink?’ he offered gruffly.

      ‘I’m sure Henry——’

      ‘Rick knows the way to the bar,’ her brother dismissed unhelpfully.

      Shanna gave a haughty inclination of her head, left with no other choice. ‘Then I accept your kind offer, Mr Dalmont.’

      Her arm was taken between vicelike fingers as she was steered away from Henry and Janice and through to the bar in the adjoining room. ‘I wasn’t being kind at all, Shanna,’ Rick told her softly. ‘Not unless you count to myself. You left Doug Gillies’ party two evenings ago before I even had the chance to talk to you.’

      She would have left this evening too if it hadn’t been her brother’s party. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said coolly, only reaching up to his shoulder despite her own considerable height.

      He grinned, deep grooves in the hardness of his cheek, his eyes a deep enigmatic black. ‘You aren’t sorry at all,’ he derided. ‘But I’ll let it pass for now. Dry Martini, isn’t it?’ he nodded towards the bar.

      Shanna didn’t question his knowing her preference in drinks; this man would make it his business to find out her preferences in everything! ‘Thank you,’ she accepted distantly.

      ‘My pleasure,’ he drawled suggestively.

      Shanna ignored the innuendo, realising that this man was used to a more positive reaction from women, that her indifference to him intrigued him. She had had no choice, she either showed him her indifference or gave him what he wanted. And as he wanted her, made no secret of the fact, she had decided to show him indifference. Either way he was sure to lose interest soon, and this y there was no harm to her. She had no intention of sleeping with a man just as a means of getting him out of her life! Rick Dalmont wasn’t a man who enjoyed the chase for long, she just hoped he would tire of her soon; he was making it awkward for her to go anywhere, always seeming to be where she was.

      ‘Here,’ he held the long glass out to her, somehow managing to touch her slender fingers in the process. ‘Not very subtle,’ he acknowledged the slight raise of her brows. ‘But I figured it’s the only way to touch you at all. Do you usually freeze men off the way you’ve been freezing me?’

      He was beginning to tire, she could tell that. Until tonight Rick Dalmont had shown her of his attraction to her, but it had always been charmingly done, never a word or movement out of place. Tonight his behaviour was noticeably different; the chase was over, the feline abobout to catch his prey, any way he could. It was the time she had been dreading the most; her own polite but distant behaviour was no longer enough to repel him. She would have to be as blunt as he intended being.

      She met his gaze unflinchingly, her black hair swinging back over her shoulders. ‘Yes,’ she answered abruptly.

      The charm had gone from his face now, leaving his expression harsh, his mouth taut, his eyes narrowed. ‘So I’m not the exception?’ he bit out, seemingly unaware—or just unconcerned—of the people standing near them, the conversation and loud laughter doing a lot to mask this very private conversation.

      ‘No,’ she drawled, knowing the idea displeased him. Rick Dalmont was a man who arrogantly dismissed women when they displeased him; he was never dismissed himself. It would have been that way all his life; the Dalmont fortune had been made long before Todd took his young Spanish bride and produced Ricardo. Rick Dalmont had grown up with a gold spoon in his mouth, and the determined line of his mouth said he wasn’t going to allow a mere woman to deny him something he wanted—even if it was her! For thirty-seven years nothing had been denied him, and Shanna Logan wasn’t about to be the exception, not even when it was her body he wanted. ‘What do you and my brother have to talk about so earnestly?’ She decided attack was still the better form of defence.

      Rick’s mouth twisted derisively. ‘He hasn’t told you yet?’

      ‘No,’ she evaded.

      ‘I wonder why?’ he taunted.

      She gave a careless shrug. ‘I have no doubt he will, in time.’

      Rick gave a haughty inclination of his head. ‘In time. But will that be too late?’

      ‘I have no idea. Will it?’

      He gave a husky laugh. ‘It could be,’ he mocked her attempt to get information out of him.

      ‘Then perhaps I’d better go and talk to Henry now.’ She turned to leave.

      Firm fingers grasped her arm, strong relentless fingers that held Shanna to his side. ‘It can wait,’ he dismissed abruptly. ‘Maybe if you ask me nicely enough I might be persuaded to tell you.’

      She eyed him coldly. ‘I can get the information from Henry with much less effort.’

      His breath was warm against her cheek. ‘Would it be so much of an effort?’

      ‘Yes!’ she snapped—and then cursed herself for her show of anger. She had intended to show this man no emotion at all, but his manhandling of her couldn’t go without retaliation of some sort. She pulled pointedly out of his grasp, knowing her arm was going to be bruised in the morning from his reluctance to release her. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it would, Mr Dalmont,’ she repeated coldly. ‘And I hate having to make an effort of any kind.’

      ‘Poor little rich girl,’ he rasped.

      Her cool green eyes openly mocked him. ‘Isn’t that slightly ridiculous, coming from you?’

      ‘I worked for my place as head of Dalmont Industries from the time I could understand what stocks and shares were,’ he bit out fiercely. ‘My father never gave anyone anything for nothing in his life, and he wasn’t about to start with me. What’s your excuse?’

      She had hit a raw nerve, she could tell that; Rick Dalmont would lose his temper only rarely. He had just done so very effectively. ‘I don’t have one,’ she told him quietly. ‘I’m the editor of a magazine Henry owns.’

      ‘So he informed me,’ Rick nodded abruptly. ‘A cursory title, I’m sure.’

      ‘Then don’t be,’ she snapped. ‘Fashion Lady may only be a women’s magazine, and unimportant to a man like you, but I run it to the best of my ability.’

      ‘And how good is that?’

      She flushed at the quietly intended insult. ‘Ask Henry!’ her eyes flashed.

      To her chagrin Rick Dalmont began to smile. ‘At least this is an improvement. I’ve made you lose your temper with me three times in the last five minutes.’

      ‘I think that probably makes us even,’ she taunted.

      ‘Nothing like it,’ he still smiled. ‘My temper has been much less controlled since I met you. But you could soon change that,’ he added throatily. ‘All it would take is one word from you.’

      And she knew exactly what that word was! ‘I haven’t been using that word too often lately,’ she said abruptly.

      ‘Since your husband died.’

      Shanna froze. ‘What do you know about that?’

      Rick shrugged. ‘It’s no secret that he died, is it?’

      ‘No.’ She avoided that black-eyed gaze, knowing this man could see into her soul if he wanted to. And from what she knew of him he would want to.

      ‘Or how he died?’