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Clothes were strewn all over the floor, as if his luggage had been overturned from the stand. A floor lamp was lying drunkenly on one side and the bed was stripped; dark silver satin pouring over the sides. The notion that he’d just had frenzied sex all over them crushed her heart.
It wasn’t until she spotted the man himself, hands braced on the curved walnut bar, head bowed, white dress shirt damp and clinging to his back, that a portentous sensation crept up her arms. This didn’t look like a seduction scene. It looked like—
‘Oh, my God, Finn, has your room been ransacked? You have to call Security!’
Spotting the phone on the bedside table, she dashed over to call Reception.
‘You know,’ he said easily, ‘that would be a very good idea. Perhaps they could take me away and lock me up.’
Reaching for the phone, her hand froze in mid-air. ‘You did this?’
She took his silence as a yes and shivered right down to her toes.
The atmosphere had turned thick with danger. She could virtually feel his darkness, blacker than ever before. And the urge to turn, to leave, was so strong she had to push her feet to the floor until they rooted—she would never be frightened of this man.
‘But why?’
‘Get out, Serena. Now. Before I break.’
Break? What was he talking about?
He swiped a bottle of tequila from the marble bar-top and poured the liquid into a crystal tumbler.
‘Finn?’ she said, panicking as he raised the glass to his lips and took a long swallow. ‘What are you doing? You’re driving tomorrow!’
‘Nagging, Miss Scott? Now, that is a typical female trait. One unbelievably hot dress and you’re halfway there already.’
‘You were the one who dressed me up! Only to disappear on a booty call and leave me there.’
A humourless laugh broke past his lips. ‘A booty call? Is that what you thought?’
‘What else was I supposed to think?’
With a severe kind of control, completely at odds with the state of the room, he turned to face her and air hit the back of her throat. His beautiful blue eyes were black with guilt, devastation and fury. So much fury it poured off him in waves. Great tidal waves of anguish.
‘Hold up there, Lothario. What are you angry with me for?’
Slam went the glass to the marble and liquid sloshed over the crystal rim. ‘No booty call. But it didn’t take you long to fall into the arms of another man, did it?’
Serena flinched at the scathing lash of his tongue, the cut biting deep.
She’d messed up. Royally.
Raising one arm, Finn pointed due west and emotion gushed on a voice thick and unsteady. ‘Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? To see his arms around you, holding you close? To walk away thinking you were better off with him?!’
Words blasted from him like bullets—bang, bang—until she rocked where she stood. Then she cursed for thinking the worst of him.
‘I’m sorry. I waited and he asked me to dance. That’s all we did—dance. I...’ Her heart was beating so hard and loud she could barely think. But never mind her pride. She owed him this much. ‘I only want you, Finn.’
Serena held her breath, waited. She didn’t think it was possible for him to look even more tortured, but he did.
‘You have to leave.’ He stabbed his fingers through his damp hair, then pawed down his face. ‘Please, Serena, just go. I don’t know how long I can hold on.’
Realisation hit and her entire world narrowed to this point. This man. ‘So don’t. Let go.’
Though her insides trembled, she commanded her feet to move deeper into the shadows and reached up to grip the zipper hook at the side of her dress. Slowly she tugged downward.
Fists clenching, he shook his head. ‘Stop. Just stop. I’m on the edge here, Serena, and I can’t control myself with you. I don’t think you’ll like that.’
As if he’d tossed her into a bramble bush, her skin prickled all over with the flash replay of violent hands gripping her throat, twisting her wrists, pinning her down—
No. No! This man was Finn. Granted, she’d never seen him so dark before, and it made her wonder if she was missing something, but still... ‘I can handle it. I can handle you. I’m stronger than that, Finn.’ Clearly he lacked faith in himself but she trusted him. Completely. Utterly.
She dragged the single beaded shoulder strap down her arm and teased the satin past her plunge bra to her waist.
His throat convulsed. ‘Don’t you dare, Serena. Don’t you dare.’
She hurled his words from the yacht in Monaco so long ago back at him, amazed at how far they’d come, how far they’d travelled. ‘Oh, Finn, you should know better than to challenge me. Especially in that gorgeous husky voice of yours.’
