“Sibyl, five minutes. Listen to me,” he demanded, his mouth at her ear.
“No!” she shouted and struggled, tearing at his hand at her waist. Her mind was whirling, her head was spinning. No one down there helped her, not even her family. They all knew before she did, that was what they were so damned cheerful about. That was why they were all acting so strange.
She felt, at any moment, she was either going to cry, scream the house down or be sick.
Or all three at the same time.
He caught one wrist and twirled her out then used her arm to jerk her forward. She slammed against his hard body while he twisted her arm carefully behind her back. Her other hand came up to push against his chest but he grabbed that too and it joined the one behind her back.
She was pressed full-frontal against his body and completely powerless.
This, of course, made her angrier.
She tipped her head back, her hair flying everywhere. “Let go of me!” she yelled in his face.
He shook her, a gentle but rough gesture that caused her no pain but further angered her all the same.
“Listen to me!” he commanded, his voice an urgent rumble.
“No!” she repeated. “You have nothing to say that I want to hear.”
“I dreamed of you, the night before I met you.”
She became instantly still.
Perhaps that was something she was willing to hear.
“What?”
“I dreamed of who I thought was Beatrice, but she had your hair. It was you. I was making love to you and then you were torn from my arms and I was held back as someone slit your throat.”
Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him, completely at a loss for words.
What on the goddess’s green earth was going on?
She’d dreamed of him too. The same exact dream. Except it was his throat that was slit.
“Does that dream sound familiar?” he asked, watching her closely.
She blinked and shut her mouth so fast, her teeth clacked together.
Damn, she always got caught in her lies.
“Sibyl, I know you were lying about your nightmare that night. You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
She stayed silent, not ready to let go of her rage and instantly deciding she did not want to hear anymore of this latest revelation. Really, how much could a girl take?
“You’ve had the same dream, haven’t you?” Her eyes went to the door with visions of escape dancing in her head but he shook her again. “Haven’t you?”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” she told the floor to her side.
His hands released hers but he didn’t let her go. His arms tightened around her, holding her to him even as her hands went to his chest and tried to force him away. She didn’t lift her eyes above his throat as she pushed with all her strength.
All this work was to no avail. He didn’t shift an inch.
“Stop struggling and talk to me,” he demanded.
Her eyes lifted to his and she obliged, “You made me your whore.”
He flinched as if she’d struck him and he seemed, for a moment, genuinely to be in pain. And she felt, to her surprise and annoyance (for a moment), upset for him.
“You were never my whore,” he murmured gruffly, his eyes drilling into hers.
“I felt like it,” she informed him with complete honesty, still trying to pull away.
His arms tightened. “I’m sorry for that but I never thought of you that way.”
“You did that first night,” she corrected him.
“All right, I never thought of you that way after that first night,” he conceded through gritted teeth.
She knew that. Rationally, logically, looking back at all that transpired between them. She wasn’t exactly hip to how paid sexual partners were treated but she doubted their men took them out to dinner and on jaunts to National Trust properties on the weekend.
She knew all of this but she wasn’t rational or logical at that moment.
Far from it.
“Then how did you feel about me the night you threatened to fuck me on my dining room table?” she pushed, her voice was nasty.
Now she was out of line, he threatened it but he didn’t do it.
He didn’t apologise for threatening it but he still didn’t do it.
She wasn’t going to feel badly about being out of line. He’d been lying to her for weeks.
She told herself that but what he said next made her feel like an absolute heel.
“I’d been away from you for days. I wanted to see you and you weren’t home. So, I suppose what I felt was that I missed you.” he clipped, his patience with her beginning to wear and it was showing.
At his words, she stopped pressing against his chest to get away.
“You missed me?” she breathed, her eyes rounded in surprise.
He just stared at her and she (wisely) let it go.
Then she rushed on. “Why didn’t you tell me about the portraits? And, why did you offer me fifty thousand pounds to sleep with me? I mean, who does that? And –”
“Why did you take it?” he cut in and, at his turning of the tables, she clapped her mouth shut.
It was her turn to stare at him.
Unlike her, however, he actually intended to get an answer.
“Would you care to answer me?” This was voiced as a request however it was anything but.
Sibyl mentally kicked herself for again, after the many times in the past, not learning her lesson. How she managed to get herself in these tricky situations, she did not know. She had two degrees, got straight A’s, graduated with honours, she kept her home tidy, managed to take care of her pets, hold down a job, keep a business, pay her bills, but her life was (always) an absolute mess.
She decided to remain silent. She figured it was her best option at that point.
“Christ, for someone as beautiful and warm-hearted as you, you’re truly the most annoying woman I know,” Colin ground out, looking over her head rather than at her.
She was now staring at him in wonder.
She’d kind of heard the word “annoying’ but she was stuck on “beautiful’ and “warm-hearted” so she didn’t fully process the “annoying’ bit.
It was then that there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Sibyl called automatically.
“Go away,” Colin barked at the same time.
Of course, since it was the sisters, they listened to Sibyl and opened the door.
Looking over her shoulder, Sibyl watched Claire and Scarlett walk in, Claire watching them with her heart in her eyes, Scarlett’s eyes were scrutinising.
“We came to see if you were all right. That was quite a scene down there and we were a bit worried,” Claire announced, walking fully into the room, her gaze swinging worriedly from Colin to Sibyl.
“I came in a medical capacity. After carrying Sibyl up the stairs, I thought you might need me to check if you’d sustained a hernia,” Scarlett drily informed Colin.
At that, Sibyl’s head snapped back around to look to Colin. “Would you like to amend your comment about the most annoying woman you know?” she quipped angrily.
His arms loosened around her as one corner of his lips twitched tellingly. Sibyl stepped away from him, breaking the hold of his arms and gave him a look that told him she did not think her sister, or any of this, was amusing.
“I’m fine, he’s fine, we’re fine, everything’s fine,” Sibyl curtly assured Claire who was still looking as if one, the other, or the both of them was about to spontaneously combust and she didn’t want to be in the way of flying body parts.