The Seduction Trap by Sara Wood

kiss had meant nothing. Even if he still wanted to kiss her, again and again, till she was breathless. Far from satisfying his hunger, he had only succeeded in fuelling it.
    ‘Guy!’ she said shakily, still reeling from the violent turmoil rampaging through her entire body. He’d kissed her. And she’d loved it. Wanted more. A lot more. Come to think of it, she’d intensified the contact. The damp black lashes fringing her huge violet eyes fluttered as her pupils contracted with shock. ‘What did you do that for?’ she asked, concealing her panic. He drew in a long, tense breath, and it was several seconds before he let it out in a slow exhalation, almost as though he was counting to ten whilst doing so. ‘How else was I to stop you crying?’ he asked, with breathtaking callousness. ‘Oh! You-you brute!’ she gasped indignantly. His mouth pinched in a fraction. ‘Then he checked whatever he’d intended to say, turned abruptly and walked away to the side gate, hurling icily over his shoulder, ‘It worked, didn’t it?’
    ‘A few nice words and a handkerchief would have been kinder,’ she mumbled, going brick-red with shame. He studied her for a moment, his expression noncommittal. ‘And wiser,’ he agreed. ‘If I had stopped to think what your reaction might be, I’d never have touched you. I hope you are aware that I have no interest in you as a woman. None at all!’ he said, as though she needed the point ramming home when it was already turning and twisting in her body, opening barely closed wounds.
    Tessa felt deeply humiliated. He meant that it had never occurred to him that she’d respond with such breathtaking enthusiasm. ‘I never imagined that you had,’ she replied sharply, her self-esteem on its way to rock-bottom again. The hard slash of his lips twisted and he swore softly under his breath, turning away as though he could bear the sight of her stricken face no longer.
    Numbly she watched him fling the gate shut and stride down the little backstreet. And all she could think was that it was like the scene with David all over again. She felt the same squeeze in the pit of her stomach, the same sense of horror.
    It had only been a kiss. No great drama, perhaps, to any other woman. But it was to her. She’d vowed never to give her favours freely ever again. That resolution seemed to have flown out of the window with painful ease.
    And judging by her abandoned reaction, Guy must think she was desperate for love, comfort, anything re motely affectionate. The scorn he obviously felt for her hit at the root of her security again.
    Only when he had disappeared did she sink limply to the ground, her skirts floating about her on the grass. ‘I’m a fool!’ she groaned hopelessly. How could she live with herself after this?
    ‘Perhaps they make contact lenses for brains,’ she muttered gloomily, trying to buck herself up. ‘God knows, I need something to help me judge men’s motives better.’ Tentatively she touched her soft mouth, exploring its lush, rather overripe curves. Her lips still felt bruised to the touch. The remembered pressure of his magnificent body against hers tortured her mind, stabbing her loins with a spasm of need. She’d loved the power and energy that had surged through every inch of him. Had wanted to share it. It was a terrifying thought that she could be so weak-willed. Why hadn’t she objected at once? Why had she left it to him to be the one who walked away? She knew the answer. He wanted to unsettle her. He had a devious ability to destroy her defences. He kept throwing her off balance by working on her emotions, destroying her defences with worrying facts and shock revelations and then offering the pretence of sympathy. It was a brutal but highly successful method. And she despised him utterly for it.
    ‘I won’t let him get me down!’ she ground out, jumping up decisively.
    She was determined to ease the sickening anger churning in her stomach. The situation