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Somehow she’d hoodwinked every man in London into dancing to her tune. But he was the Earl of Erith. No woman snatched the lead from him as he waltzed her into his bed.
    He pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were sweet and soft. And firmly closed. It was like having the gates to heaven slammed in his face.
    Well, there were more paths into paradise than the one through the front door.
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    Olivia remained taut and motionless beneath Lord Erith’s kiss, while inside clawing panic shrieked to break free. A scream choked in her throat. It would be too humiliating to reveal how his kiss distressed her. She fought to stave off the blackness. She could survive this. She could survive anything. And with her pride intact.
    This man would not defeat her.
    Good God, she was a tall, strong woman, not a defenseless child. But his overwhelming height and heavily muscled body made her feel small and vulnerable in ways she hadn’t experienced for years. The musky scent of aroused male sucked the air from the room. His kiss tormented her, frightened her, reminded her of events she’d tried desperately to forget.
    The horrible black suffocation only lasted a moment. Her mind recognized that. Her soul cringed and cowered and felt it had plunged back into endless nightmare.
    He wasn’t even hurting her. His mouth wasn’t brutal and the hand behind her head speared through her hair almost tenderly. For all its implacability, his grip was gentle. He didn’t use his unquestionable power to flatten her onto the desk so he could rip at her trousers and push his way into her.
    None of this mattered. What mattered was the sense of being overpowered, forced, compelled against her will. Her stubborn pride faltered, began to fracture. She was at the point of releasing the scream when abruptly the kiss changed.
    The demanding pressure eased. He brushed her lips with a torrent of little kisses, seemingly innocent. Although innocence, she already knew, was a word foreign to this man.
    No, these glancing nibbles and licks were the tactics of a hardened seducer. A man confident enough to know that if he took his time, lulled his prey into a false sense of security, he’d get what he wanted.
    Well, he didn’t know who he dealt with.
    No man turned Olivia Raines into a helpless victim. On a surge of fortifying anger, she raised her hands and with all her strength, she shoved at his broad chest. She wrenched her mouth from his. “No!”
    Her push didn’t shift him. He brushed one last kiss across her mouth and stepped back, silently indicating the decision to release her was his alone. He breathed more quickly than normal and his eyes glittered like polished silver. For once they weren’t cold at all. He was still heavily erect.
    So he wanted her. Of course he did. That was why he paid a fortune to set her up as his mistress. Men always wanted her. They’d wanted her since she was a child. But she had the power. She made the choice.
    â€œYou had no right,” she spat.
    Her resentment didn’t dent his arrogance. “What a fuss over nothing. You must know I intend to do more than kiss, Olivia. This coyness doesn’t become you.”
    â€œIt’s not coyness,” she said sharply. She sucked in a calming breath, although panic still frayed her composure. Deliberately, she lowered her tone so she sounded like Olivia Raines, queen of courtesans, not the frightened child she’d once been. “I don’t kiss on the mouth. My lovers have no complaints about my generosity in other areas.”
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    Her seductive response didn’t fool Erith. She was paler than usual and her lush mouth, red from his kisses, settled into a strangely vulnerable line. That kiss had affected her. Although unfortunately not with overwhelming lust.
    No, something else happened.
    He just wished to hell he knew what it was.
    Would she be similarly unresponsive when he got her into bed? Surely not. Her