Men of Power. Кэрол Мортимер

continued to behave impeccably during the rest of their stay at her parents’ house. It was just the fact that he was there that was so unnerving.

      And she hadn’t slept well again last night. Dominick hadn’t seemed to have the same trouble, the even tenor of his breathing telling her that he had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head had touched the pillow.

      She had thought only the innocent slept like that—and innocent was something Dominick most certainly wasn’t!

      He was out of the car now and standing on the pavement beside her, her overnight bag in his hand. ‘I’ll take this up for you,’ he offered lightly.

      ‘There’s no need,’ she refused, frowning. ‘I can easily carry it myself.’

      ‘I’m sure you can.’ He nodded, his smile derisive. ‘But you must realize we haven’t finished discussing this—transaction, yet,’ he reminded her softly.

      Kenzie’s shoulders stiffened, her chin lifting as she met his challenging gaze. ‘I’m not in the mood right now, Dominick!’

      ‘The mood for what?’

      Her cheeks flushed with anger. ‘For whatever you have in mind!’

      Dominick smiled, his eyes darkening, and his teeth very white against the tanned skin. ‘Right now I have it in mind to take your bag upstairs for you and let you make me a cup of coffee. If I change my mind about any of that, I’ll let you know!’

      Despite his mockery Kenzie was still reluctant to invite Dominick up to her apartment. Not because she had anything to hide. She simply didn’t want his presence there, in the private space she had made for herself the last few months. Dominick had nothing to do with her life as it was now, and after being with him again this weekend that was the way she wanted it to stay.

      ‘Kenzie, didn’t last night prove to you that I’m not filled with unrestrained lust every time I’m alone with you?’ he taunted scathingly at her continued silence.

      Her blush deepened. ‘I never thought that you were!’

      ‘Didn’t you?’ he questioned, a glint in his eye.

      ‘No,’ she assured stubbornly. ‘Look, Dominick, you’ve had your fun with me—’

      ‘My dear Kenzie, I haven’t even begun to have fun yet!’ he promised.

      His idea of fun and hers were vastly different, then!

      ‘Besides,’ he added softly, ‘we really do need to discuss what you’re going to give me in return for this weekend.’

      ‘Give you?’ she echoed sharply.

      ‘Give me,’ Dominick repeated softly, reaching up to smooth the frown from between her eyes. ‘Don’t frown, Kenzie, you’ll get lines. And then what would Carlton Cosmetics, and especially Jerome Carlton, have to say?’ His mouth had tightened perceptibly.

      At that moment, she didn’t give a damn what Carlton Cosmetics—or Jerome!—had to say about anything. She was far more concerned with what Dominick would want from her, what he would demand she give, after he had so generously given up this weekend for her.

      It didn’t help that the skin on her forehead tingled where he had touched her!

      ‘Fine,’ she snapped, taking her bag from him. ‘Then you had better come up and discuss it, hadn’t you?’

      Dominick watched with narrowed eyes as she turned and walked away, enjoying the sensual sway of her slender hips in her tight jeans and the way her hair cascaded down the length of her spine.

      She was his.

      Every sensual, delectable inch of her was going to be his again. She just didn’t know it yet.

      He was smiling when he stepped into the lift she had held for him, that smile widening as he could sense her deepening annoyance as the lift ascended. An angry, spitting Kenzie was much easier to deal with than that coolly dismissive one!

      ‘Come in,’ she invited tersely after unlocking the door to her apartment and going inside to throw her overnight bag down on a chair.

      Dominick took his time, looking around him with interest. The apartment was decorated with soft autumn colours interspersed with touches of emerald-green and Mediterranean-blue, and the prints on the walls were of dreamy scenes from the late nineteenth century, with women in floaty dresses and hats, and men wearing frock coats.

      In sharp contrast, his own apartment, where he had taken Kenzie after they were married, was very contemporary, with lots of glass and chrome and leather furnishings, the paintings on the walls originals by up-and-coming modern day artists.

      He had never realized Kenzie’s tastes were so different from his.

      Having spent the weekend with Kenzie’s family in the ex-vicarage set within its acre of garden, Dominick recognized that the village girl in Kenzie was still very much alive.

      ‘Nice.’ He nodded appreciatively as he turned back to look at Kenzie.

      A very tense Kenzie, he thought, who looked as if she expected, despite what he had said downstairs, him to pounce on her at any moment.

      Well, she was going to be disappointed.

      He’d really meant it when he’d told her he had no intention of collecting on his side of their bargain now. No, he intended to prolong that satisfaction for as long as possible. He’d wanted to make her suffer a little, in the same way he suffered every time he imagined her in Jerome Carlton’s bed!

      Kenzie gave an impatient shake of her head, not interested in what he did or didn’t think of her apartment. ‘Just say what you have to say and then go.’ She glared, not at all comfortable with his invasion into her private sanctuary.

      Instead of doing any such thing Dominick dropped down into one of her big overstuffed terracotta-coloured armchairs. ‘You aren’t being very polite, Kenzie,’ he drawled. ‘I told you I could do with a coffee after the drive.’

      ‘It’s usual to ask!’ she snapped irritably.

      His dark brows raised mockingly over his amused brown eyes. ‘A black coffee would be much appreciated, thank you.’

      ‘Have a hangover, do you?’ she came back tartly, thinking she really would end up with lines if she didn’t stop frowning so much!

      ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but not at all. I only had one glass of champagne at the wedding reception, and from experience it isn’t a drink that gives me a hangover,’ he replied, completely unconcerned by her bad humour. ‘As I’m sure you remember, I happen to prefer my coffee black.’

      Getting him the coffee wasn’t the problem, especially as it meant she could escape into the kitchen for a few minutes’ respite from his disturbing company. It was the time he was going to spend in her apartment drinking it that was the problem.

      He hadn’t told her what he wanted from her yet, and she very much doubted he would leave until he had.

      She didn’t doubt that Dominick was enjoying himself, his air of amusement having become much more pronounced this morning.

      Away from her close-knit family, Kenzie was having more trouble, and much less opportunity, to remain aloof from him. Which, of course, was exactly what he wanted.

      Damn him.

      Dominick relaxed back in his chair as Kenzie left the room, easing the tiredness from his body. Last night, he had pretended to be sleeping, he had lain awake long after Kenzie had finally fallen asleep.

      Plotting.

      Planning.

      Savouring.

      He was not going to rush something that was giving him so much pleasure just thinking about it.

      ‘Here,’ she said briskly. when she returned from the kitchen and handed him the cup of black