That intoxicating knowledge blotted out every bit of common sense she’d tried to cling to and turned her into a woman who craved every part of this man. His hands slid down her back, curling around her bottom, lifting her into a more erotic fit with his body, and she willingly, wantonly rubbed herself against him, surrendering to the primitive urge to excite the same feverish excitement coursing through her, to incite him into taking what she was dying to give.
Time and place meant nothing.
Pride was forgotten.
The need to satisfy all the secret yearnings she’d tried to argue away was overwhelming.
‘A-hem!’
The loud clearing of a throat seemed to come from a distance, an alien sound breaking into what should have remained intensely private, jolting the glorious flow of feeling. Jake reacted to it before she did, lifting his head and quickly tucking hers into the curve of his neck and shoulder, holding her protectively as he turned his face towards the intrusion.
‘Please excuse me, sir…’
Harold’s stiffly dignified voice penetrated the cocoon of Merlina’s whirling inner world and cleared some of the dizzy fog in her brain. Even as the realisation of what she’d been doing slid into it, making her acutely conscious of where she was and who she was with, she felt Jake’s chest heave for breath and a wave of tension made her stomach contract.
What would he say?
How would he explain this?
‘Mr Byron is in the library,’ Harold announced with amazing sang-froid. ‘He was wondering how long this…ah…tête-à-tête is going to take?’
‘Just a bit longer, Harold,’ Jake answered in a harsh rasp. He swallowed hard then produced a smoother tone. ‘Please inform my grandfather we will join him in the library very shortly.’
We will?
What for?
Having hopelessly compromised her dismissive stance with Jake by succumbing to a reckless disregard of realities, Merlina tried desperately to collect her wits before having to face up to the man who was still intent on not relinquishing his hold on her. She couldn’t find the strength or will to break free of him. In any event, it was utterly untenable to put on an act of shocked outrage at the liberty he had taken with her when she had responded so unmistakably. So positively.
‘Very well, sir,’ Harold solemnly intoned and the click of the door being shut signalled his exit.
Jake inhaled even more deeply than before, then released his hand clamp on her head, dragging his fingers softly through her hair as he breathed out her name. ‘Merlina?’
Her real name.
Hearing it spoken by him in such a caring tone made her heart lurch.
She wanted him to say more, to tell her he was as shaken as she was by the force of the passion that had swept away any rational thought. But the gentle tug on her hair meant he wanted her to lift her head and look at him. Dragging in a deep breath of her own to feed much-needed oxygen into her brain, she obliged him, realising that to see would probably be more telling than to hear.
There was no amusement in his eyes. No spark of triumph. His face was deadly serious and his gaze locked onto hers with a magnetic intensity that made any evasion impossible. ‘I want you. You want me,’ he stated unequivocally, then punched home his point. ‘You can’t marry my grandfather.’
There was no denying the wanting. And she hadn’t intended marrying Byron, anyway. Where this was leading with Jake she didn’t know. Maybe nowhere. But what had just happened made hanging on to the pretend engagement impossible. The game was over, regardless of what the final outcome might be.
‘You’re right,’ she sighed. ‘I can’t marry your grandfather.’
‘Good!’ The word was loaded with relief and satisfaction. ‘I’m glad we’ve got that settled.’
The fact that he was focussing on breaking her relationship with Byron felt wrong to Merlina. Yet wasn’t it what he had come to accomplish? The real truth burst through the seductive possessiveness which had drawn her into surrendering to his will. Jake simply wanted her free of other commitments so he could play with her.
‘But I’m not coming back to work with you,’ she flung out emphatically, her eyes challenging any ownership he thought he’d secured.
‘We’ll talk about that later,’ he said brushing her off. ‘Right now we should go to the library and break the news. The sooner it’s done, the better.’
He had her hugged to his side and walking her to the door before Merlina’s mind caught up with processing his intention. She stopped dead, not sure how the scene would play out in the library. She and Byron had an understanding and she wanted to talk to him alone.
‘No! You’re not to do that,’ shot straight out of her mouth.
Jake frowned at her belligerent resistance. ‘Do what?’
‘I’ll tell Byron myself.’
‘You need me in support,’ he insisted, not liking the idea of her separating herself from him.
Was he worried she might change her mind?
Rattling his confidence seemed like a very good idea to Merlina. Jake Devila was altogether too fond of getting his own way. She was not about to let him direct her life again. As far as she was concerned the rules of their relationship had changed.
‘It’s cowardly to lean on someone else when the message to be delivered is so personal,’ she argued. ‘It’s up to me to tell him. You would only aggravate the situation, Jake.’
‘But I’m part of it.’
‘Only in so far as you showed me I hadn’t given enough weight to one of the factors in my planning,’ she said as archly as she could, hoping to downplay the treacherous depth of her feelings for him.
He was shocked. ‘You were using me as a measure?’
‘Wasn’t that your intention?’
‘No…yes…no…’ He shook his head in angry confusion. ‘I did what I’ve wanted to do for a long time.’ His eyes blazed with absolute certainty. ‘And don’t tell me you didn’t want it, too!’
‘A case of having my curiosity satisfied, Jake. Thank you for the experience. Now if you’ll excuse me, Byron is waiting.’
The verbal exchange had diverted his attention from keeping her strongly secured at his side. She had pushed out of his hold and was heading for the door before he recollected himself to produce another pitch.
‘You can’t go on staying here, Merlina. It would be rubbing salt into the wound. I’ll wait and drive you home after you’ve spoken to my grandfather.’