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hadn’t grown to love her in the months they’d been together, so fury and a desire for revenge certainly wouldn’t do it. Nor would three nights in his bed.
    He
wanted
her. He didn’t need or love her.
    ‘No. That’s not possible.’
    But it is,
the voice of temptation whispered.
You want it too.
    ‘Of course it’s possible. Haven’t we just proved that?’ One sable eyebrow arched knowingly as he swept an arm towards the rumpled bed they’d shared. Satisfaction lurked in the grooves curling at the edges of his mouth, and in his polished pewter eyes.
    ‘Nevertheless, it’s not going to happen.’
    Fabrizio’s face hardened, his smile flattening into a grim line, the light in his eyes changing to something harsh.
    ‘If you think I’m going to let you go now, Jenna, you don’t know me at all.’
    She straightened her shoulders, pulling the slippery silk tie of her robe into a tight bow at her waist, wishing she had something more substantial than a wrap to protect her from his stark determination.
    ‘You don’t have a choice,’ she murmured huskily, surprised to find her larynx half paralysed. ‘You can’t force me to stay with you.’
    She had to remind herself they had no future despite the unsated longing between them. Dully she recognised that for her part it would never be eradicated. This man was in her blood.
    His eyes narrowed and fear brushed her flesh again at the feral possessiveness in his expression. He looked dangerous. Half tamed. Like some renegade, not an urbane city businessman.
    Her breath stalled as panic clutched her.
    Or was it excitement? Fabrizio’s look of primitive ownership sent a thrill through her that shattered every indignant denial hovering on her lips.
    To be so wanted by him, to be claimed by him, spoke to her at some deep, primal level.
    What would he do to keep her? How far would he go?
    He took one step closer, brushing up against her breasts. They tingled, sending a current of electricity jolting straight to her pelvis.
    She drew in a sharp breath, inhaling the spicy scent of his skin and her head swam. Behind her the cold glass seemed the only reminder of the world beyond her and Fabrizio.
    ‘But I won’t need to force you. You’ll stay because you want to. Won’t you, Jenna?’ His mouth curved in a slow, devastating smile that made her heart loop the loop. ‘You don’t really want to leave me. I can see it in your gorgeous eyes. You want me as much as I want you.’
    Jenna wanted to slap him down, reject his words and puncture his cocky certainty. She wanted him to leave her alone instead of muscling into her personal space, into the life she was trying to rebuild.
    But she couldn’t. Her slow exhale tasted of defeat.
    He was right. Despite the pain, the lack of trust, the unevenness of what they felt for each other, part of her still clung to him. It was impossible to walk out on him a second time. She just didn’t have it in her.
    The realisation took her out at the knees and she slumped, despair stirring. His arms shot out, hard fingers grabbing her elbows and supporting her.
    ‘Is it so very bad?’ His terse question surprised her and she looked up. Yet she couldn’t read his enigmatic expression. It was neither triumph nor anger, yet its intensity was like a brand on her skin. ‘Being together has its benefits, hasn’t it?’
    He was asking? She was so used to Fabrizio asserting, it was disconcerting hearing him voice the question. Almost as if he was on shaky ground.
    ‘For you.’
    ‘And for you,
cara
. Don’t try to pretend you don’t enjoy what we share.’ His head dipped towards hers and fear rose. Fear that she’d simply give in to the dictates of her body and his expert seduction.
    With a surge of energy she pushed at his chest, holding him off till he pulled back, his frown questioning.
    Jenna took advantage of the momentary respite to break out of his hold and sidle away to the other side of the open French door. She looked back at