Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence - Shaw Chantelle - Страница 22
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Ella bit her lip. ‘I…I didn’t think it would matter. The fact that it’s my first time means nothing to me.’ She quickly looked away from him, stunned by the realisation that she had lied and that she had wanted him to be her first lover. She barely knew him, she thought despairingly, and this feeling that he was the other half of her soul was utterly ridiculous.
‘Really?’ He gave a sardonic laugh. ‘Are you sure you did not think that I would somehow be honoured that you had given your virginity to me? Because if you did, I’m afraid I must disappoint you. I don’t want a sacrificial lamb in my bed,’ he continued harshly, ignoring her swiftly indrawn breath. ‘I only bed experienced, sexually confident women, and I have neither the time nor the patience to tutor a naive girl-especially when there is the added danger that you might fall in love with me.’
‘My God-you arrogant jerk!’ Trembling with humiliated rage, Ella sat bolt-upright, the violent movement causing her breasts to bounce provocatively, so that she quickly dragged the silk coverlet over them, her cheeks burning. ‘I would never fall in love with you-’ She broke off, blinking dazedly when his face was suddenly illuminated. For a second she could not understand what had happened, but then she realised that the power had been restored and the timer on the bedside lamps had been activated. The room seemed painfully bright after the dark, and the furious expression on Vadim’s face made her want to weep with shame.
From outside came the sound of rain-big, heavy drops, falling slowly at first as the stormclouds broke. A gust of wind whipped in from the balcony and tugged at the curtains, and with a muttered oath Vadim got up and strode across the room to close the doors. Ella stared at the masculine beauty of his naked body, trailing her eyes over his wide shoulders and then down to his waist, hips, and finally his buttocks and long, muscular legs. Minutes ago he had lowered himself onto her and pushed her legs apart with one hair-roughened thigh, and the stark memory fanned the flames of the hot, pulsing need inside her that refused to die.
What was she going to do-beg him to take her? she asked herself raggedly. Her self-respect was in shreds, and the realisation that her body still ached for his possession, even after his scathing comments that he did not want to bed a virgin, filled her with panic. His rejection hurt, she acknowledged miserably. But she would rather die than let him see it. She had to get away from him. He had closed the doors to the balcony and was drawing the curtains across them. Any second now he would turn around… Frantically she snatched up her dress and dragged it over her head. There was no time to gather her shoes or knickers; she simply fled out of the door and down the stairs, not pausing when she heard him call her name.
The door to her part of the house was locked. She rattled the handle in frustration, remembering how she had bolted it earlier in the day, when she had discovered that Vadim was the new tenant of Kingfisher House. She heard his footsteps on the landing above and raced through the dining room and out onto the terrace. The rain was falling so hard that it stung her skin, but instead of running along the terrace to the French doors leading to her flat, she turned and sped across the lawn, desperate to put as much space between her and her tormentor as possible.
The lights from the house spilled halfway down the garden, but the decked patio beside the river was in darkness, broken only occasionally when the scudding clouds parted to allow the moon to glimmer across the water. Ella stared down at the swirling river while the rain lashed her and mingled with the angry tears streaming down her face. First thing tomorrow she would phone Jenny and ask if she could stay with her until she found somewhere to live-because she would rather die than have to face Vadim ever again.
‘What are you doing out here? The rain’s like a goddamned monsoon.’
His angry voice sounded behind her, and she spun round, lost her balance and almost fell into the fast-flowing river.
Uttering a curse that singed her ears, Vadim sprang forward and snatched her into his arms. ‘Watch your step. You could be swept away, you little fool.’
Fury replaced the fear that had surged through him when he had seen her standing so close to the water’s edge. For a second he had thought she would fall, and he knew he would have had little chance of dragging her from the swirling current before she was swept away. He could not stand another death on his conscience.
When he had first realised that Ella had run from the bedroom he’d had no intention of following her. She hadn’t been honest with him, and he’d felt angry that he had been tricked into a situation he would never have chosen. He did not want the responsibility of being her first lover. But he had been tormented by the expression on her face when he had rejected her. The flash of hurt in her eyes had been uncannily similar to the look on Irina’s face during one of their many arguments about how he spent too much time at work rather than with her.
Ella should have told him she was a virgin, but the knowledge that he had been unnecessarily cruel had seen him drag on his trousers and chase after her. Now, as he stared down at her rain-drenched form and felt the violent shivers that ripped through her, an indefinable feeling tugged in his chest.
Vadim’s scathing tone was the last straw, and the fact that he still looked gorgeous, even when his hair was plastered to his head, the rain running in streams down his bare chest and moulding his trousers to his thighs, set fire to Ella’s temper.
‘I must be a fool to have had anything to do with you,’ she yelled as she fought free of his hold. The memory of how he had rejected her burned like acid in her gut, and in an agony of embarrassment she lashed out at him, beating her hands against his chest until he caught both her wrists in his vice-like grip.
‘Be still, you little wildcat,’ he ordered harshly, snaking his other arm around her waist to haul her away from the river’s edge. He was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring as he fought the urge to claim her mouth and kiss her into submission. Ella shook her head, so that her wet hair whipped across his face, and she gave a cry of frustration when she failed to free her wrists from his grasp. The driving rain had soaked through her dress so that the grey silk moulded her body like a second skin, and as she squirmed furiously against him the feel of her pebble-hard nipples dragging against his chest drove Vadim to the edge of sexual insanity.
‘Let go of me.’ Ella had to shout above the sound of the rain beating against the wooden decking, but she had spent so much of her life keeping quiet, keeping her mouth shut so as not to annoy her father, that shouting was a revelation which restored a little of her pride. She was no longer a scared little shadow, flitting about Stafford Hall, she thought as she lifted her head and glared at Vadim. She was a grown woman, and she was hurt and humiliated and as angry as hell. ‘Just so you know-there’s not the slightest chance I would ever fall in love with you,’ she flung at him. ‘I didn’t choose you to be my first lover because I harboured some stupid idea that emotions would be involved. I know what kind of a man you are. You’re a notorious playboy, and I would never make the mistake that your last girlfriend, Kelly Adams, made, by hoping to touch your heart, because I’m well aware that you don’t have one.’
‘Is that so?’ he gritted, hauling her so hard against him that their bodies were welded together while the rain continued to hammer down on them. He’d had a heart once, he recalled bitterly, anger surging through him at Ella’s accusation that he was an immoral womaniser, intent only on seeking his own pleasure. She had no idea that his heart had been torn apart. The pain of losing his wife and daughter had been unbearable, and he had vowed never to lay himself open to such agony ever again.
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