Free Dark Paradise by Sara Craven Page A

'Will it reassure you if I say I've never used force with a woman in my life?'
    She produced a travesty of a smile. 'Not particularly.' She was remembering that kiss, and knew that he was, too, and the realisation galled her. Her hands were clenched together in her lap. Staring down at her tightly woven fingers, she said, 'Do I really have no choice? What's to stop me walking out of here right now?'
    'I am.' He smiled down at her silkily. 'I'm sure you're not penniless, but you wouldn't get far without your passport.'
    'My God,' Kate said unevenly. 'You really are a bastard!'
    'It's been said before,' he dismissed briefly. He gave her a long steady look. 'And if it comes to it, you're no lady yourself. We made a bargain, even if you had the terms slightly wrong, and you were going to run out on it.' He shook his head reprovingly. 'Welshers aren't nice people.'
    Kate said with a snap, 'What would you know about nice people?' She drew a deep breath. 'May I know what this hush-hush job is on St Antoine? As I'm going to be so closely involved with it, I feel I have a right to know.'
    'On this trip, you have only the rights I choose to accord you,' said Matt. 'And to quote your own words—how do I know I can trust you?' He watched her flush angrily and laughed. 'No, darling, I think I'll keep my own counsel, at least for the time being.'
    'Will you please stop calling me that!' Kate muttered between gritted teeth.
    'What would you like me to call you?' he asked pleasantly. 'It can hardly be Miss Marston in the circumstances. How about "My sweet" or "my dear love"?
    'Oh, make it what the hell you want,' she sighed wearily. 'And when we get to St Antoine, I want my own room.'
    'Tough,' he said succinctly. 'The booking has already been made, and it stands. You'll have to cross your fingers that there are twin beds.'
    She bit her lip. 'And tonight?
    'You really think you're irresistible, don't you?' Matt looked down at her smiling, and she looked away, hating the disadvantage she was at, loathing the sheer masculine challenge of him. All the time they'd been talking, she had been deeply conscious of the fact that he was shirtless, unwillingly aware of the breadth of his shoulders and the taut muscularity of his chest and abdomen. If they'd been talking on a beach, she wouldn't have given his state of semi-undress a second thought, probably, but here in this room, at this time of night, it seemed a threat, which was exactly what he intended, she suspected. 'But you really have no need to worry. It's been a long journey, and I'm too tired to contemplate even a mild pass.'
    'I'm grateful for the reassurance,' she said sarcastically. 'But it doesn't alter a thing. I've no intention of sharing a bed with you.'
    His grin widened. 'Why? Isn't it big enough for you?'
    It was almost as big as the island itself, not merely king-sized, but emperor-sized, and she was probably being ridiculous. He obviously thought she was, but she didn't care.
    He added cheerfully, 'But please yourself, of course. I hope that chair remains comfortable.'
    Kate was taken aback. She said, 'I thought you might have offered me the bed.'
    'Did you now?' He sauntered across the room. 'Well, half of it is as far as my generosity runs.' He picked up a couple of pillows and arranged them with ostentatious care down the centre of the bed. 'Not the Berlin Wall, but an adequate barricade, I'd have said. And if you don't want to use the bathroom, then I do.'
    He opened his case, pulling out a silky robe and shaking the creases out of it. No pyjamas, she registered with a sinking heart, but then after his comment in London about 'unnecessary refinements' she supposed that would have been too much to ask for.
    When she was alone, she sat staring at the floor and wishing that she was dead at worst, or that she'd never got involved at the very least. She groaned. The next two weeks, dancing to whatever tune he chose to play, promised to be unbearable, a humiliating, embarrassing