"Perhaps." His expression was intent. "There's something about your very tempting offer that makes me vaguely uneasy."
"Uneasy?"
"Perhaps it's my pride smarting. Maybe I enjoy having a woman put up at least a pretense of desiring me before the negotiations start."
Pretense. Oh dear heaven, who wouldn't want him? Her problem was that she mustn't reveal how much she wanted him. "I don't think you'll find me lacking in emotion." Her voice was a little husky, but maybe he'd mistake it for sultriness. "I think you know I had something of a crush on you when I was a kid. It would have been hard to miss. I thought an affair might not only be amusing, it might serve to exorcise you."
"Exorcise?" he repeated. "You make me sound like a devil incarnate. If you're going to be a successful Khadim, you're going to have to learn to choose your words more carefully. I'm not sure I like to be thought of in those terms." His eyes narrowed. "But I admit the idea of being a fantasy figure is highly erotic to me." He rose lithely and strode across the room. Before she knew what was happening he had pulled her to her feet. His eyes were no longer cool, but burning brightly, and she felt her heart leap wildly. "Did you fantasize about me, Pandora?" he asked softly. "About how it would be when I made love to you?"
She couldn't breathe. She could scarcely get a word out. "Yes." She knew her eyes were revealing too much. She tried to shrug carelessly. "A few times, I suppose."
"I'm beginning to have a few fantasies myself." His strong, graceful hands were lightly cupping her shoulders, kneading the flesh through the black velvet. His eyes had dropped to the fullness of her breasts. "Do you know that when you shrug the way you did just now that the neckline dips just enough for me to get a glimpse of the pink of your nipples? Just a glimpse, and then it's gone. Much more arousing than going topless. Did you plan it that way?"
"No." Her voice was a whisper. She was glad his eyes were no longer on her face, for her cheeks were suddenly hot. "I didn't know."
"Whoever created that gown did. Its purpose is very clear. There's nothing more voluptuous than black velvet against smooth white skin." His voice was suddenly thick. "You have magnificent breasts. Your skin has an almost luminous quality." One hand slipped slowly from her shoulder to her throat. "It reminds me of the women in the Delacroix paintings." His finger reached the upper slope of her left breast. The touch was gossamer light, yet heat rippled through her. "But all paintings should have an appropriate frame."
She felt as if she were mesmerized. She knew her breasts were tautening, swelling beneath his eyes. "Frame?" she asked vaguely.
He chuckled. "Why not? They're obviously crying out for attention. You'll be out of that gown in a minute anyway." His other hand left her neck, and the velvet was swiftly pushed off her shoulders. Then her breasts were free of the velvet, the bodice now beneath them, lifting, offering them in the frame Philip had created. His face was heavy with sensuality as he looked at her. "Lord, that's beautiful. I think I'll have a black velvet halter made for you and have it sewn with pink diamonds." His face slowly lowered until his breath feathered her nipple. "Black velvet, diamond hardness. " His tongue licked delicately, and an electric shock sent tremors through her entire body. "Against white velvet." He sipped at her nipple, and she felt the muscles of her stomach clench. "And pink softness." He was sucking gently, tasting, nipping, his words muffled and hot against her breasts. His cheek felt hard and faintly rough as he rubbed it against her. "Would you like that? You could wear it when I take you to bed. . . . You're so pretty like this."
She could scarcely comprehend what he was saying. She was on fire. Strangely weak, yet vibrantly alive and yearning. "If you like. Whatever you want."
He suddenly stiffened. His head lifted jerkily from her breasts as if he were unbearably tempted to remain. "How very accommodating." His voice was still thick with desire, but it held a bewildering hint of anger as well. "What a good little mistress you're going to make. Pandora. Perhaps the most passionate one I've ever enjoyed." He swiftly put her bodice in order and stepped away from her. "But could it be that the offer of diamonds has something to do with that passion?"
She reached a shaky hand up to brush the silver-blond hair away from her face. She mustn't let him see how much that remark hurt her. It was terribly hard to look coolly at him when her body was aching with suppressed hunger. "I always did like diamonds." She smiled with an effort. "And pink ones sound lovely. You appear to be a little upset. Have you changed your mind?"
His gaze was once more on her cleavage, as if he were unable to keep his eyes away. "Not upset. Uneasy. You have a very primitive effect on me. I think I could easily form a minor obsession where you're concerned." He looked directly at her. "I don't permit myself that sort of reaction to women."
"I know." She hadn't meant to say that. Surface. Keep it all on the surface. "I mean, it's obvious that you're only interested in a casual affair. Surely a minor obsession wouldn't be intolerable. You 11 probably be bored to distraction with me in three months." She mustn't push. She turned away with another shrug. "However, it's your decision." She strolled slowly toward the door. "I wouldn't want you to feel at all uncomfortable with it." She picked up her black velvet evening bag from the low chest by the door. She opened it, pulled out the gold medallion, and dropped it on the chest. "But until you make up your mind I think you had better keep this."
"An ultimatum?" Philip asked, his expression once more alert and watchful. "Sexual possession or none at all?"
"I hadn't thought of it that way, but perhaps that is what I meant." She opened the door. "Good night, Philip."
"Pandora."
She stopped and looked over her shoulder inquiringly.
"You haven't asked about your father," he said with a cruel smile. "Don't you want to know how overcome with joy he was when I called to tell him you'd been found?"
She felt the blood fade from her cheeks. She'd thought she had armored herself over the years, but trust Philip to find a weakness and strike with blinding swiftness. For a moment she felt as naked and vulnerable as she had when she was a child.
"No," she said shakily. "No, I don't want to know." She closed the door so swiftly she didn't hear the violence of the curse Philip uttered behind her.
He took an impulsive step forward and then stopped. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had hurt her. He had known that if there was even a vestige of the old Pandora left, his remark would hurt her, and he'd deliberately used it to test the sophisticated facade that had filled him with such anger and frustration. Why did the agonized look on her face make him feel slightly sick? He had never been particularly kind to women, yet in the past his actions had never filled him with such guilt. Since the moment she had walked through that door, he had felt that the Pandora he had known was somewhere just out of reach, beneath the smiling sophistication. There was something wrong, something out of kilter with this Pandora. The change was too radical.
He walked to the chest and picked up the medallion she had dropped so carelessly. Why was he questioning the metamorphosis that he had always known would come eventually? She was a desirable woman, and he would be a fool not to take advantage of the offer she had made. He could still taste the warm sweetness of her breasts on his tongue, and he felt a sudden thrust of desire in his loins at the memory. No, there was no question that he was going to take her up on that offer. He was tempted to follow her now to the hotel at the address the Blackwell's man had given him.