‘Very much. Don’t you?’
Her eyes flashed. ‘It’s hardly the same thing.’
His mouth twisted mockingly. ‘I like Jane because she’s genuine and honest. She has no hidden depths. She’s a very lovely woman.’ His tone implied that she was the opposite.
‘Yes,’ Lauri agreed huskily, still waiting for retribution for those scratches. They must be very sore by now.
‘Go and change, Lauren,’ Alex told her almost wearily, ‘before I change my mind and decide to stay here after all.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You really are going to take me out?’
‘Yes,’ he said grimly, pulling back his jacket to look at the blood that was still slowly seeping into his clothing. ‘In spite of this,’ he grimaced.
It did look bad. How could she have done such a thing? Her throbbing breasts answered that question for her. She moved forward, her hand outstretched. ‘Let me—’
‘No!’ He jerked away from her. ‘I think you’ve done enough.’
‘But I was only going to suggest I wash your chest and put some antiseptic on it.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ he told her coldly. ‘It isn’t important.’
‘But it looks a mess!’
‘And no doubt it is,’ he said grimly. ‘But you should have thought of that before you chose to use your talons on me. I can see to it later,’ he dismissed.
‘But—’
‘Do you want to stay here?’ The question was a threat.
‘No!’ Lauri almost ran out of the room, his mocking laughter following her up the stairs.
She had a quick shower, quick because she didn’t trust him not to come up here and finish what they had started. Her wardrobe was pretty limited, especially for an evening with Alexander Blair. She had intended buying a new dress, but when the date seemed to be off, hadn’t bothered. She finally chose to wear the only dress that was in the least sophisticated.
She had first worn it when she was a bridesmaid the previous year, the bride choosing to put her brides-maids in white while she herself wore black. It had been an odd sort of wedding altogether, the bridegroom wearing white too, and Lauri hadn’t been altogether surprised when the marriage had broken up after only a few weeks. Both Iris and Nicky had seemed more interested in causing a sensation at the wedding, which their extraordinary outfits had certainly done, than in the actual marriage that followed.
But at least Lauri had the white dress out of it, a beautiful floaty affair, with thin ribbon shoulder-straps, a fitted bodice, flowing gently from the waist to her ankles. She turned in panic as the door clicked open behind her, and Alex stood in the open doorway. She clutched at the open back of her gown, her face fiery red at his insolent appraisal.
‘Very nice,’ he finally taunted. ‘Having a little trouble?’ he mocked her efforts to pull up the zip.
‘Oh, go away!’ Her face was flushed with her efforts, as she realised that the zip had actually caught on a bit of the material.
He did the opposite, coming forward to spin her round and bending to look at the mess she was making of her gown. ‘Hold still,’ he commanded as she began to fidget.
How was she supposed to do that with his fingers touching her bare skin! Her teeth set in a grimace as he seemed to deliberately linger over the task, his hands seeming to burn where they touched. He must be aware of how she was trembling, couldn’t miss the way she longed to move sensuously against his fingers splayed across her back.
‘There,’ he pulled the zip up to the top with no trouble at all, his hands resting possessively on her hips as he spun her round to face him. ‘Ready now?’ he asked huskily.
‘I—I just have to brush my hair.’
‘I’ll see you downstairs.’
To say she was dazed by his behaviour was putting it mildly. But his manner remained coolly polite as he opened the car door for her, making her wonder if that brutal assault earlier had really happened. But of course it had, hadn’t there been the beginnings of bruises on her breasts when she was dressing? She mustn’t be lulled into a false sense of security by Alex’s mood, beneath the surface she had no doubt he was as furious as ever.
They were driving through the residential part of London and Lauri felt her apprehension grow as Alex turned the car into an underground car park, parking the Ferrari next to the Rolls bearing his number plate.
She turned to look at him, knowing they were at his home. ‘What are we doing here?’
Alex gave her a scathing glance. ‘Use your common sense, Lauren. I can hardly go anywhere in a shirt covered in blood!’