Free A Gift for a Lion by Sara Craven Page A

her voice trembled a little. 'You asked me just now if I forgave easily. But I'll tell you now, Leo Vargas or Vorghese or whatever you choose to call yourself, I shall never forgive you for what you've made me suffer on this island. If it takes me all my life, I'll make you sorry for what you've done to me. And every day you keep me here will be one more day to hate you.'
    He laughed softly, jeeringly, and somehow it frightened her more than the anger she was half expecting.
    'Hate me, then,
mia
.' He came away from the door in a swift lunge, and two long strides brought him to her. 'But hate me for a reason, not because I have hurt your pride a little.'
    She wanted to move, to back away, but the chair was behind her and she stumbled even as his arms went round her body, drawing her against him. For a moment her hands instinctively clung to his shoulders as she steadied herself and she could feel his hard muscles straining against the soft velvet tunic.
    His eyes were golden and glowing, as if lit by some inner angry fire. Lion's eyes, she thought wildly. And he's strong and dangerous and cruel. King of his own private jungle. And then as his mouth came down on hers, all thought stopped and sensation, pure and naked, took its place.
    All thoughts of resistance melted as he gathered her even closer, his lips parting hers with a ruthless mastery that she had never dreamed could exist. She was helpless against his strength, helpless to deny him the sweet flood of response his kiss was arousing in spite of herself.
    He raised his head, his own breathing unsteady, and gazed down at her, her eyes wide and enormous in her small face. Then with a sound between a sigh and a groan, he bent to her again. Their mouths clung, parted, dissolved. It was as if they drank from each other. His tongue trailed a delicate fire around her eager lips, then found the small hollows of her ears. She heard herself moan as her mouth sought his again, like a flower turning to the sun. His hand caressed the soft mound of her breast through the concealing silk, then found the sash of, her robe and pulled it loose. The breath sighed from her throat in one long clamour of yearning.
    Then from the corridor came a slight sound. Leo Vargas lifted his head, listening. Joanna stared at him for a moment, feeling utterly bereft, then she heard them too, the quiet footsteps approaching along the passage.
    It was Josef coming to clear the table, she thought dazedly. He could have found them here, like this. Icy with sudden shame, she dragged the folds of black silk around her body, tightening the sash with shaking hands.
    '
Cara
.' He sounded almost amused, she thought furiously. 'Josef is a perfect servant. He would never intrude.' He reached for her again. 'Let me send him away,' he whispered.
    She slapped him as hard as she could across the face. For a moment she waited, appalled, afraid that he was going to retaliate as his grip tightened cruelly on her slender arm. He had gone pale, she saw, and the angry mark her blow had left stood out on his cheek. Then quite suddenly she was free, standing alone on legs that threatened to collapse under her.
    He looked back at her from the doorway. 'You hate well,
mia
,' he said coolly, and left her.
     
    It was almost dawn before Joanna drifted into a restless sleep. She had lain awake for hours, mentally and emotionally exhausted by the most prolonged bout of self-examination she had ever conducted. And the answers she had come up with had ranged from the unsatisfactory to the totally unacceptable.
    There was simply no gainsaying the fact that she had allowed a man who was her enemy, keeping her prisoner in his house for his own dark purposes, to make passionate love to her. In fact, she had not merely allowed him to do so, but had responded with every fibre of her being to him. If Josef's imminent arrival had not shocked her back to sanity, she knew unquestioningly that there would only have been one end to the episode,