The Revenge Collection 2018. Кейт Хьюит

bed Nikolai came down and imprisoned her with the vastly superior weight and strength of his big, powerful body. ‘Get off me. Let go of me...right now!’ she raked at him.

      ‘I really hate being shouted at,’ Nikolai confided a split second before his hard, sensual mouth claimed hers.

      And for that same split second it was as though Ella’s world stopped turning and she was jolted off course, sent breathless and spinning into the unknown. Heat surged up through her like an invasive weapon. He eased her out from under him but kept her trapped in his arms. Irritation flamed through her because inexplicably she had liked his crushing weight on hers. Her fists struck at shirt-clad shoulders as unyielding as rock. The tip of his tongue flicked inside her mouth and she shivered violently, the clenching at her secret core almost painful in its intensity. He nipped at her lower lip, sucked and soothed it with his tongue. She wanted more, she wanted more so badly it hurt to be denied and the rushing tide of that hunger shocked her back into her mind again.

      His kisses were like nothing she’d ever experienced before. A lean hand tunnelled below her tee and closed round a small, high breast, long fingers stroking the throbbing tip and lingering to rub and tug until her spine arched in response and her hips jerked up and a helpless sound of craving was released from low in her throat.

      He pushed up the T-shirt and replaced his fingers with his mouth. She was so sensitive there that she quivered beneath every lash of his tongue, every teasing brush of his teeth, and the molten heat pulsing between her thighs was swelling and swelling in an unstoppable rise. Her hips shifted, the driving need for relief powering her every instinctive movement, and then the surge at the heart of her became so urgent, so utterly overpowering that a jagged climax took her by storm. The wave of excitement that jerked her in his hold left her sobbing for breath and mental clarity as shock seized hold of her instead.

      In a driven movement that took him by surprise, Ella rolled off the bed and yanked down her T-shirt with shaking hands. Her face was hot as a fire and her entire body was throbbing and trembling in the backwash of an orgasm more powerful than anything she had ever experienced. Her nerves were shot to hell. She couldn’t even breathe normally. Momentarily she closed her eyes tight, praying for self-control. He could make her want him. He touched her, he kissed her and everything, including her proud protest of indifference, went haywire. Her body raged wildly out of control around him, which was just one more reason for her to hate him.

      Dry-mouthed, Nikolai studied her, fighting his raging libido. He literally ached. He wanted to haul her back to the bed and pin her under him to drive into the hot, sweet release of her tiny body, and the intensity of his desire sent a chill of recoil snaking through him. He didn’t do intense in any form. He didn’t get excited about sex. He didn’t do exclusive. He steered clear of entanglements and complications. Revenge and work motivated him. He had never needed anything else. He had never needed a woman and, if he had anything to do with it, he never would.

      ‘I’m leaving,’ she told him flatly while she fought harder than she ever had in her life to rescue some kind of composure. After quivers of reaction were still travelling through her treacherous body, while she tried not to question her total loss of control, keen not to think along such demeaning lines in his presence.

      Nikolai sprang off the bed, shoving his shirt back below his belt. ‘I’ll follow you back.’

      ‘Follow me where? What are you planning to do?’

      ‘Ease your move to London.’

      ‘Don’t you dare go near my family!’ Ella warned him furiously. ‘You’re a stranger to them.’

      ‘But I won’t be a stranger for long,’ Nikolai asserted, picking up a jacket.

      ‘You don’t know what you’re doing. They’re not stupid. They’re never going to believe that I’ve been seeing some man in secret!’ she told him with scorn.

      Nikolai elevated a fine black brow. ‘People believe what they want to believe and they’ll be relieved that you’ve started living again.’

      Ella’s face shuttered. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

      ‘I’m not stupid either. You’re a woman and most women are dramatic. I bet you swore you’d never love again after your fiancé died. I bet you’ve hugged your grief to you like a security blanket ever since,’ Nikolai opined.

      Ella had turned white as bone. She flung him a look of loathing. ‘How dare you drag Paul into this? How do you even know about him?’

      ‘I know enough about you to make an educated guess or two,’ Nikolai drawled coolly.

      ‘Well, you got it wrong, badly wrong,’ she assured him, but she was lying because although she would never have admitted it he had got it all frighteningly right. In fact his accuracy was both uncanny and mortifying. She had sworn that she would never love again, that she would never date another man after Paul. Her grief had been so great that she had voiced bitter self-destructive sentiments that had contained little common sense. The last thing she needed to hear now was Nikolai Drakos implying that she had acted like a drama queen craving sympathy and attention.

      ‘So, quite naturally, your family will be delighted to believe that you have moved on after your loss and their pleasure in that reality will help them gloss over any inconsistencies in our story. They will want us to be real,’ Nikolai declared with a sardonic smile. ‘Your only role is to act happy about moving to London to see more of me.’

      Something akin to panic assailed Ella’s breathing process, tightening her chest, closing her throat. Act happy? She wasn’t sure she knew how to do that. Life had been too challenging in recent years to offer many such opportunities but she had learned to smile and fake it for her family’s benefit. No, it was the idea of moving to London and an unfamiliar environment to be with Nikolai that shocked and dismayed her most. And the concept of living with a man, being intimate with a man like Nikolai Drakos utterly unnerved her. Yet if she didn’t agree to Nikolai’s demands her family’s life would be ruined. And after the setbacks and upheavals her father and Gramma had already lived through, how could they possibly cope with more at their age?

      Almost three hours later, Ella let Gramma herd her into the kitchen for a private chat. She went reluctantly because she was straining to eavesdrop on the conversation that Nikolai was having with her father in the dining room the older man had long used as an office. The men’s voices rose and fell, Nikolai’s deep-pitched drawl soothing the rising note in her father’s audible objections.

      ‘I want Ella happy and she won’t be happy if she’s worrying herself sick about her family back home,’ Nikolai asserted forcefully.

      Ella paled. Nikolai would be saying all the right things and wearing all the right expressions, she reflected bitterly. He was clearly a consummate liar and smooth as molasses in a situation that would have sent nine out of ten men running for the hills. In action he was a breathtakingly quick study. He had arrived just after the family finished dinner and joined them for tea and carrot cake. He had grasped Ella’s hand to declare that they had been seeing each other for months, ever since they had met the night she was parking cars. He had been very convincing, very persuasive and she had little doubt that he would soon crush her father’s protests and persuade him to accept that his debts were being written off.

      ‘Do you know what surprised me most about all this? Nikolai is so different from Paul,’ Gramma remarked as Ella began to load the dishwasher to keep her restive hands busy. ‘He’s a real man’s man.’

      Ella’s soft mouth compressed. The older woman had a traditional outlook. She liked men who could hunt a wild boar before breakfast and reduce a pile of logs to wood chips by dinner time. Paul’s lack of interest in traditional male pursuits had bemused Gramma. She had liked him and treated him like a son but she had never understood him, Ella conceded with regret.

      ‘I never thought that you would go for someone like Nikolai. Of course, he’s very good-looking and obviously successful. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into with him?’ the older woman pressed. ‘I know living together