yes, Clementine, look at you running. Like
that’s
going to happen. You’ve never been with a man like this and it’s exciting, and despite everything you want to at least try and see if this can go somewhere better. Besides, he’s got you wrapped around his little finger and he knows it. Why would he let you go yet? As long as he wants you you’ll stay.
And with that all the anger fell away and all she felt was confusion.
What was going on? Was she sulking? Serge tugged on some briefs, pulled on his jeans. Glanced over at her again.
She was snapping at him as if he’d done something to disappoint her. Yet she’d climaxed around him in the shower. Hadn’t she?
Was that the problem? Had she been faking it? The thought brought him up cold. He prided himself on giving a woman the pleasure she deserved in exchange for the gift of her body,and the notion that he hadn’t lived up to Clementine’s expectations wiped out any thought other than remedying that.
He strolled over and dropped to his knees at her feet. Clementine stared at him in astonishment as he tugged playfully on her towel, parting it to reveal her thighs.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Makings things better. Lie back,
kisa
, and think happy thoughts.’
He had to be joking. Clementine grabbed the towel and pulled it back down to her knees, tucking her legs up under her as fast as she could. ‘Don’t you dare.’
A challenge? A wicked smile lit up his face, but no answering invitation came from Clementine.
She glared at him. ‘Your bedside manner needs a lot of work, mate.’
The smile was gone. In its place was disbelief. ‘You love it,
kisa
.’
The sheer arrogance of the man! ‘Love what? Being pawed at?’ Her voice trembled a little with the anger and confusion she was feeling—waking up alone this morning, being abandoned again now. ‘Sex isn’t just physical, Serge. Haven’t you worked that out by now?’
A muscle was ticking in his jaw and she glowered at him.
‘And while we’re at it, next time you decide to come into the bathroom ask before you take.’
Serge stood up slowly. ‘Perhaps you should have kept the moaning down to a reasonable level,
kisa
, and then I would have heard the no.’
Visibly tensing, Clementine said hoarsely, ‘I didn’t say no. I just said you could have asked before invading my privacy.’
‘Complaint noted,’ he replied, jerking open a drawer. He wasn’t indulging her temperament any further. He knew where this was going, and he didn’t do female tantrums. Shewas being difficult for the sake of it because he was leaving her alone. Again.
Brought up short by that thought, he grabbed a T-shirt.
Yeah, okay, it wasn’t the behaviour of a gentleman. But that was not what this was about. He tugged the T-shirt over his head.
What in the hell
was
this about?
He looked at Clementine as she sat on the end of the bed, tugging on the hem of that towel.
His conscience gave an unfamiliar jolt. He didn’t want to leave her like this. Maybe he should cancel? Stay with her?
Bozhe
, this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Where was the funny, happy girl he’d enjoyed yesterday?
There was something softer, more uncertain about her, and she looked genuinely upset.
‘Are you okay?’ he said roughly. ‘I didn’t hurt you? You’re not sore?’
Her head snapped up and she made a little sound in the back of her throat that sounded suspiciously like a strangled scream. Clutching at the towel, she surged to her feet.
‘You’re a real prince—you know that?’ she shouted at him, and with that enigmatic comment stalked out.
He’d never seen her lose her temper. It occurred to Serge he could have handled this better.
You’re not sore?
Of all the humiliating things he could say to her—not to mention ridiculous. It told her volumes about how he saw her. Some silly girl who couldn’t look after herself. Well, he had a surprise coming. She’d been looking after herself all her life, and
that’s
going to happen. You’ve never been with a man like this and it’s exciting, and despite everything you want to at least try and see if this can go somewhere better. Besides, he’s got you wrapped around his little finger and he knows it. Why would he let you go yet? As long as he wants you you’ll stay.
And with that all the anger fell away and all she felt was confusion.
What was going on? Was she sulking? Serge tugged on some briefs, pulled on his jeans. Glanced over at her again.
She was snapping at him as if he’d done something to disappoint her. Yet she’d climaxed around him in the shower. Hadn’t she?
Was that the problem? Had she been faking it? The thought brought him up cold. He prided himself on giving a woman the pleasure she deserved in exchange for the gift of her body,and the notion that he hadn’t lived up to Clementine’s expectations wiped out any thought other than remedying that.
He strolled over and dropped to his knees at her feet. Clementine stared at him in astonishment as he tugged playfully on her towel, parting it to reveal her thighs.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Makings things better. Lie back,
kisa
, and think happy thoughts.’
He had to be joking. Clementine grabbed the towel and pulled it back down to her knees, tucking her legs up under her as fast as she could. ‘Don’t you dare.’
A challenge? A wicked smile lit up his face, but no answering invitation came from Clementine.
She glared at him. ‘Your bedside manner needs a lot of work, mate.’
The smile was gone. In its place was disbelief. ‘You love it,
kisa
.’
The sheer arrogance of the man! ‘Love what? Being pawed at?’ Her voice trembled a little with the anger and confusion she was feeling—waking up alone this morning, being abandoned again now. ‘Sex isn’t just physical, Serge. Haven’t you worked that out by now?’
A muscle was ticking in his jaw and she glowered at him.
‘And while we’re at it, next time you decide to come into the bathroom ask before you take.’
Serge stood up slowly. ‘Perhaps you should have kept the moaning down to a reasonable level,
kisa
, and then I would have heard the no.’
Visibly tensing, Clementine said hoarsely, ‘I didn’t say no. I just said you could have asked before invading my privacy.’
‘Complaint noted,’ he replied, jerking open a drawer. He wasn’t indulging her temperament any further. He knew where this was going, and he didn’t do female tantrums. Shewas being difficult for the sake of it because he was leaving her alone. Again.
Brought up short by that thought, he grabbed a T-shirt.
Yeah, okay, it wasn’t the behaviour of a gentleman. But that was not what this was about. He tugged the T-shirt over his head.
What in the hell
was
this about?
He looked at Clementine as she sat on the end of the bed, tugging on the hem of that towel.
His conscience gave an unfamiliar jolt. He didn’t want to leave her like this. Maybe he should cancel? Stay with her?
Bozhe
, this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Where was the funny, happy girl he’d enjoyed yesterday?
There was something softer, more uncertain about her, and she looked genuinely upset.
‘Are you okay?’ he said roughly. ‘I didn’t hurt you? You’re not sore?’
Her head snapped up and she made a little sound in the back of her throat that sounded suspiciously like a strangled scream. Clutching at the towel, she surged to her feet.
‘You’re a real prince—you know that?’ she shouted at him, and with that enigmatic comment stalked out.
He’d never seen her lose her temper. It occurred to Serge he could have handled this better.
You’re not sore?
Of all the humiliating things he could say to her—not to mention ridiculous. It told her volumes about how he saw her. Some silly girl who couldn’t look after herself. Well, he had a surprise coming. She’d been looking after herself all her life, and
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