“Let me go.”
He shook his head.
“Let me go!” she demanded.
He shook her gently yet roughly and her fierce eyes turned frightened.
He found he both enjoyed that reaction and hated it with every fibre of his being.
It was a very strange sensation.
Her body still frozen, he finally had her rapt attention. It was time to get down to business.
“I want to f**k you,” he told her calmly and bluntly and waited for her reaction.
“Oh my goddess,” she breathed, her eyes widened and her mouth ended the statement parted in surprise.
With that strange remark, he could smell her breath, which was minty, and her scent, which was now gardenias and vanilla, and both took considerable toll on his fast flagging control.
He realised he wanted her, wanted her now, wanted to rip her clothes off, toss her delicious body on the dining room table and bury himself inside her. He wanted it so badly it took a supreme effort of will not to give in to the impulse and the strength of this hunger made Colin deeply surprised. He’d never felt such a lack of control, such a feral need, in his life.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “You feel good, you smell good, you probably even taste good.”
The panic flared in her eyes but her voice was quiet when she demanded, “Let me go.”
“I’ll pay you.”
Gone was the quiet but the panic escalated.
“You’ll what?” she screeched.
“Name your price. I’ll pay for the use of that body of yours. You tell me how much you want and I’ll tell you what it’s worth to me.” She was looking at him as if he’d grown a second head and she didn’t reply so he continued. “Name your price and I’ll tell you if it’s worth one time, two times or a whole month of me having you whenever I want.”
“You are mad,” she whispered, staring up at him with intensity in her green eyes.
His fingers tightened on her wrists and he pushed his game. “Just name your price. If it’s too high then we’ll add things on. I’ll have you on that table, for example,” he expressed his thought from moments before.
Her head jerked to look at the table then jerked back to him, the tendrils of her hair catching fetchingly on her lips.
“Or, I’ll have you on all fours,” he suggested in a thoughtful attempt to help her make up her mind, driven by something he didn’t understand to shock her.
At that, she started to struggle again, in earnest, anger and panic warring in her expression and she shouted, “Let me go!”
The dog, who had stopped barking, started again, backing up in confusion at this turn of events.
Colin’s hands tightened further on her wrists and he knew it was painful because she ceased struggling immediately. But her luscious body wriggling against him, her eyes flashing green, Colin was definitely no saint, he lost his patience luckily before he lost his flagging control.
But he had to know.
He had to know if she was after his money or if she carried Beatrice Godwin’s reincarnated soul.
The more she struggled, the longer she hesitated, the more he felt his hope grow and he had to know.
Was all that was Sibyl Godwin more than just coincidence?
Was she born destined to be his as he was to be hers?
Colin had been waiting his whole life. He had to know.
Therefore, he dipped his head so his face was an inch from hers and growled, “Name your price.”
* * * * *
Sibyl stared at him, more terrified than she’d ever been in her entire life.
Her mind was racing, her heart was beating like a hammer and panic was welling up in her chest so strongly, she thought she would explode.
This was not Lunatic Colin or any nuance of Rescuer Colin, this was Scary Colin.
“Quiet!” he thundered at Mallory and she jumped. Her dog gave a soft, confused whine and then ran out of the room, up the stairs and, likely, into the corner of her bedroom.
She closed her eyes in stunning defeat at her dog’s retreat.
And saw Meg lying on the ground by the minibus.
She opened her eyes again, knowing the exact figure because she had just that day worked on the budget.
She’d promised herself, whatever it took, she’d find a way.
And here Colin Morgan was, offering her a way.
It was an unthinkable, despicable way.
But it was a way.
She couldn’t believe she was going to do it, this man was loathsome, hideous.
But she was going to do it.
If he agreed.
How many people had fifty thousand pounds to throw around, especially for something like this?
Thinking (more like hoping), he’d never agree to it and would be so disgusted he’d walk out the door, out of her life, leaving her in peace (forever and ever), Sibyl announced, “I want fifty thousand pounds.”
That would buy the minibus, the driving lessons for Kyle, petrol, insurance and maintenance for several years, if they were frugal.
And it would buy peace of mind for Meg and Annie and all the other oldies who depended on the minibus to get them out of their homes so they could have a good meal and a few hours of companionship.
“And what does that buy me?” His eyes betrayed both a disappointment so extreme it was tangible and a desire so strong she felt her body heat. Her stomach twisted inexplicably as he looked at her with that strange expression on his face.
“You tell me.” Sibyl shot back, trying for bravado. She felt like she was on the edge of a sharp, dark precipice, just about to jump over into the blinding abyss and it scared the living daylights out of her.
If she became this man’s whore, she would never find her true love. She would never be the same again.
And she couldn’t shake the constant feeling she had when she was with him that there was something else, something missing between them, something she didn’t understand, couldn’t put her finger on but it was something vitally important.
And, because of that, because he, too, had to feel it, she couldn’t imagine he’d say yes.
“It gets me anything I want for two months,” he declared.
Oh dear goddess, he said yes.
She blinked at him and felt the world falling away as she toppled into the abyss.
He stared down at her, his clay-coloured eyes burning into her and she realised it wasn’t done, she could take it back, order him out of her home and tell him she never wanted to see him again.
It was the moment of truth, could she do this vile thing?
But, her heart sinking, she knew she could.
No, she had to.
For Annie and especially for Meg.