The Rumours Collection

But then he suddenly dropped his hands from her arms. The movement was so unexpected she nearly toppled backwards into the pool but somehow managed to regain her balance. She maintained her composure—just—with a cool look cast his way. ‘One thing you should note,’ she said. ‘I don’t take orders. Not from you or from anyone.’

His jaw worked for a moment. She saw the way his eyes went to her heaving chest as if he couldn’t stop himself. When his gaze re-engaged with hers it burned with heat as hot as a blacksmith’s fire. ‘Then you will learn how to do so,’ he said with a thread of steel in his voice. ‘If I achieve nothing else out of this month, I will achieve that. You will do as I say and not question my authority. Not for a moment.’

Holly inched up her chin. ‘Game on.’

Julius paced the floor of his office a short time later. How could he have let Holly get under his skin like that? He had gone down there to draw a line with her but she had flipped things so swiftly he had ended up acting like a caveman. He had never felt more like slaking his lust just for the heck of it and to hell with the consequences. His body was still thrumming with the thunderous need she had stirred in him.

Holly was doing her best to break him, to reduce him to the level of a wild animal. She was taunting him with every trick she had in her repertoire. She was in his house, in his private sanctuary, for the next four weeks. Four weeks! How was he going to withstand the assault on his senses?

She was so determined, so devious, so...distracting. His flesh still tingled with the aftershocks of touching her. Her skin against his had felt hot. Scorching hot. Blistering. He could still feel the sensation firing through his body. Touching her had unleashed something frighteningly primal in him. It roared through his blood like a wild fire. He had been knocked sideways by the sensation of holding her so close to the throbbing need of his body. It had been all he could do to keep himself from ripping that ridiculous see-through underwear away, driving himself into her and thrusting madly until he exploded.

Was he so sex-deprived that her teasing come-on had reduced him to the behaviour of a wild beast? The temptation of her, the thrill of touching her, of smelling that intoxicating scent of jasmine, musk and something else he couldn’t pin down had wiped out the motherboard of his morality like a lightning strike.

What was it about her that caused him to react this way? She was wilful, wild, unpredictable and wanton. Being anywhere near her was like fighting an addiction he hadn’t even known he possessed. He wanted her. He ached to have her. He pulsed with the need to feel her surround him with her hot little body. He could feel it rippling through him: lust let loose taking charge of him, demanding, dictating, directing. Dismantling all of his efforts to resist it.

He would resist it.

He would resist her.

He was not a hedonist. He wasn’t a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal who could only respond to primal urges. He had intellect, discipline and self-control. A moral compass. A conscience.

Julius sat down heavily on his Chesterfield office chair, rotating it from side to side as he gathered his fevered thoughts. What was that crack Holly had made about his celebrity parents? So she knew exactly who he was, did she? Had she known all along or had someone told her? Sophia wouldn’t have said anything. He trusted his housekeeper to take a bullet for the sake of his privacy. Had Holly somehow stumbled on his identity? No doubt that was why she was playing her seduction game. She wanted a celebrity trophy to hang on her belt. A show business shag to boast about to her friends. Could there be anything more nauseatingly vacuous?

He was lucky the press left him alone here in Argentina. He was able to walk around without the paparazzi documenting his every move. In England it was different. As a child he had found the intrusion terrifying. As an adult it was nothing less than sickening. Being chased down the street, cameras shoved in his face, when he was coming and going to lectures at university. Hounded while he was trying to go on a date with someone. It had got to the point where he had stopped dating. It wasn’t worth the effort.

He was often mistaken for his brother, Jake, and that caused heaps of trouble, the sort of trouble for which he had no time or patience. Jake had no issues with the press. Jake accepted it as part of being related to famous people, but then, he had always been the more outgoing twin. Although Jake had no aspirations to be on the stage, he loved being the centre of attention and used their parents’ fame to get what he wanted—a constant stream of beautiful women in and out of his bedroom. Jake didn’t mind being compared to their father. He wore it like a badge of honour.

Julius would rather poke a skewer in his eye.

He would not have people compare him to his father. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father. He loved both of his parents in a hands-off sort of way. He had never been one to wear his emotions on the outside. Even as a child he had never been the sort of person who was comfortable with over-the-top displays of emotion. His parents’ loud arguments, their torrid displays of temper and their passionate and very public reunions had always made Julius cringe with embarrassment. He was glad he’d spent most of his childhood and adolescence at boarding school. He had found study an escape from the unpredictability of his home life. He had found the structure, order and strictly timetabled life a natural fit for his personality.

Jake, on the other hand, loved spontaneity. Jake hadn’t enjoyed the discipline of school and had always found ways to buck the system. He was like their father in that he lapped up the attention and if it wasn’t shining his way he found a way to make it do so.

Julius hated the limelight. He liked to work quietly in the background without the world’s eye honed on him. His success as an astrophysicist had drawn far more attention to him than he would have liked but he comforted himself with the fact that he was successful in his own right, that he hadn’t used his parents’ fame as a way of opening any doors. He took a great deal of satisfaction in his work and, although the hours and the responsibility of heading a software company, along with his regular work came with its own set of problems, he enjoyed the flexibility of working from home, flying in and out as necessary.

The fact that the sanctuary of his home was now occupied by a mischievous hoyden was a state of affairs he would have to address, and soon. How was he supposed to concentrate with her flouncing around his villa?

The way she had challenged him as if fighting a duel. Game on. What exactly was she trying to prove? Hadn’t she done enough by that little strip show in the pool? She was supposed to be making a new start. Reforming her bad ways. But from the moment she’d arrived she’d been playing him like a puppet master. Tugging on his strings until he was so churned up with lust he couldn’t think straight. That was no doubt why she wouldn’t accept the room Sophia had prepared for her on the third floor. Of course that room wouldn’t suit Miss Bedroom Eyes. It was too far away from his. What did she have in mind? A midnight foray into his suite?

He would not allow her to win this. She would not get the better of him. She might think he was just like any other man she had lured into her sensual web in the past. She might think he was weak and spineless and driven by hormones—but she would soon find she had underestimated him. Big time.

He was putting an end to this before it got started.

Holly Perez was going straight to jail and he was making damn certain she wasn’t collecting two hundred pounds—or anything else of his—on the way past.

CHAPTER FOUR

HOLLY WAS HELPING Sophia by preparing the vegetables for dinner while the housekeeper had a lie-down. Not because Julius had commanded her to get to work but because Sophia clearly couldn’t do much with her wrist in a restrictive brace. Holly remembered all too well how painful a damaged limb could be. The simplest tasks were a nightmare and if you did too much it could compromise the healing process.

Besides, she quite liked cooking, for all that she’d told Julius she couldn’t boil an egg, or words to that effect. She even liked cleaning. The repetitious nature of it was somehow soothing. It had helped her many a time as a child and teenager to put some order into the chaos of her home life. Her mother had got to the point of not being able to cope with the running of the home so Holly had taken it over. From a young age she knew how to cook, clean, tidy cupboards, fold washing and iron. It had also been a way to keep her stepfather from criticising her mother for not doing things properly around the house. If the house was as perfect as Holly could make it then a day or two might pass without a showdown.

What Holly didn’t like was being ordered about. Controlled. No one was going to command her like a serf. If she chose to do something, then she would do it because it was the decent thing to do, or she wanted to do it, not because someone was trying to lord it over her.

As if Holly had summoned him with her thoughts, Julius came striding into the kitchen. ‘I want a word,’ he said. ‘In my office. Now.’

She blithely continued peeling the potato she was holding. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’ve still got the tomatoes and the courgettes to do.’

He came to the opposite side of the island bench to where she was standing and slammed his hands down on the surface, nailing her with his gaze. ‘When I issue you an order, I expect you to obey it immediately.’

Holly held his intensely sapphire gaze with an arch look. ‘Why can’t you talk to me here?’ She lowered her voice to a husky drawl. ‘Or are you worried your housekeeper will come in and catch us at it on the kitchen bench?’

His eyes went to her mouth for the briefest moment before flashing back to hers, twin flags of dull red riding high on his cheekbones. ‘I want you out of here by morning,’ he said. ‘I’m withdrawing my support for the scheme. You can find some other fool to take you on or you can go straight to jail where you belong. I don’t care.’

‘Fine.’ Holly put down the peeler, untied the apron Sophia had given her and tossed it on the bench. ‘I’ll go and pack my things. Sophia can take over here. I’ll just go and wake her from her nap and tell her. Her wrist was giving her a lot of discomfort earlier so she took a stronger painkiller. I reckon she’s been doing too much because she doesn’t want to let you down. But, hey, that’s what she’s paid for, right?’

He glanced at the half-prepared meal before reconnecting with Holly’s gaze. ‘You—’ he bit out. ‘This is one big game to you, isn’t it?’

Holly leaned over the bench so her cleavage was on show. He reared back as if the backdraft of a fire had hit him in the face. ‘You know what your trouble is, Julius? You don’t mind if I call you that, do you? It makes things a little less formal between us since we’re living together and all, don’t you think?’ She heard his teeth audibly grind together as she fluttered her eyelashes at him but she carried on regardless. ‘Your problem is you’re sexually frustrated. All that pent-up energy’s gotta have an outlet. You’re tearing strips off me when what you really want to do is tear my clothes off.’

His expression was thunderous. ‘I have never met a more audaciously wanton woman than you. You have zero shame.’

Holly gave him an impish smile. ‘Aw, how sweet of you to say so. Such flattery is music to my ears.’

He muttered a savage swear word and pushed his hair back from his forehead. It looked as if it wasn’t the first time he’d done it that evening. The thick, glossy strands were in a rumpled state of disorder. His whole body was taut, rippling with tension. He reminded her of a tightly coiled spring about to snap.

‘Here’s what you’ve got wrong about me,’ he said, facing her again with a hardened glare. ‘I can resist you. You might think all those come-on looks will make me fall on you like some hormone-driven teenager, but you’re wrong.’

Holly held out her hand, palm up. ‘Want to lay a bet on it?’

He eyed her hand as if it were something poisonous. ‘I don’t gamble.’

She laughed. ‘You’re even more boring than I thought. What are you afraid of, Julius? Losing money or compromising one of your starchy old principles?’

He gave her a black look. ‘At least I have some, unlike some other people I could mention.’

‘Like your father?’ Holly wasn’t sure why she thought immediately of his father. But she’d heard enough about Richard Ravensdale’s reputation to wonder how Julius could possibly be his son. Julius was an apple that had rolled so far away from the tree it was in another orchard. He was so uptight and conservative. His brother, Jake, was another story, however. Jake’s exploits were plastered over the internet. It made for very entertaining reading.

Julius’s brows snapped together in a single black bar. ‘What do you know about my father?’

‘He’s a ladies’ man,’ Holly said. ‘He’s what I’d call a triple-D kind of guy: dine them, do them, dump them is his credo, isn’t it? A bit like your twin brother’s.’

‘You didn’t let on that you knew who my family was earlier,’ he said. ‘Why not?’

Holly gave him a cheeky smile. ‘Fame doesn’t impress me, remember?’

His mouth tightened until his lips almost disappeared. ‘This is a bloody nightmare.’

‘Hey, I’m not judging you because of your parents,’ Holly said as she resumed preparing the vegetables. ‘I reckon it would totally suck to have famous parents. You’d never know who your friends were. They might only be hanging out with you because of your connection with celebrity.’ She looked up to find Julius staring at her with a frown between his brows. ‘What’s wrong?’

He gave his head a little shake, walked over to the fridge and opened it to take out a bottle of wine. ‘Do you want one?’ He held up the bottle and a glass.

‘I don’t drink.’

His gaze narrowed a fraction. ‘Why not?’

Holly shrugged. ‘I figure I’ve got enough vices without adding any more.’

He leaned back against the counter at the back of the kitchen as he poured a glass and took a deep draught of his wine. And another. And another.

Holly shifted her lips from side to side. ‘You keep going like that and Sophia won’t be the only one around here needing strong painkillers.’

‘Tell me about your background,’ Julius said suddenly.

Holly washed her hands at the sink. ‘I expect it’s pretty boring compared to yours.’

‘I’d still like to know.’

‘Why?’

‘Humour me,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling sorry for myself for having a triple-D dad.’

‘Aww. All those silver spoons stuffed in your mouth giving you toothache, are they? My heart bleeds. It really does.’

He screwed up his mouth but it wasn’t a smile. More of a musing gesture, as if he were trying to figure her out. ‘I know I come from a privileged background,’ he said. ‘I’m grateful for the opportunities it’s afforded me.’

‘Are you?’ Holly asked with an elevated eyebrow.

His frown carved a V into his forehead. ‘Of course I am.’

‘So that’s why your housekeeper had to twist your arm to do your bit for charity?’ she said. ‘To convince you to help someone a little less fortunate than yourself? Yeah, I can totally see how grateful you are.’

He had the grace to look a little uncomfortable. ‘Okay, so you weren’t my first choice as a charity, but I give to other causes. Generously, too.’

‘Anyone can sign a cheque,’ Holly said. ‘It takes guts to get your hands dirty. To actually physically help someone out of the gutter.’

‘Is that where you were?’

She challenged him with her gaze. ‘What do you think?’

He held her look for another pulsing moment. ‘Look, I’m sorry we got off to a bad start. Maybe we could start over.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Holly said. ‘You’ve already made your mind up about me. It’s what people like you do. You make snap judgements. You judge people on appearances without taking the time to get to know them.’

‘I’m taking the time now,’ Julius said. ‘Tell me about you.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because I’m interested.’

‘You’re not interested in me as a person,’ Holly said as she checked the oven where she had put the galantine of chicken earlier. ‘You just want me out of here because I make you feel uncomfortable.’

‘That was your intention, wasn’t it?’

Holly closed the oven door and faced him. ‘You want to know about me? I’m twenty-five years old. I had my first kiss at thirteen and my first sex partner at sixteen. I left school at seventeen without finishing my education. I have no qualifications. I speak two languages, English and Spanish—three, if you count sarcasm. I don’t drink. I don’t do drugs. I hate controlling men and I have issues with authority. That’s about it.’

He glanced at the vegetable dish she had prepared. ‘You told me you couldn’t cook.’

‘So I lied.’

‘Why?’

Holly gave a lip-shrug. ‘Felt like it.’

He came over to where she was standing. He stopped within touching distance but kept his hands by his sides. Even so, she could feel the magnetic pull of his body against hers. It was like a force field of energy. Strong. Powerful. Irresistible.

She glanced at his mouth, wondering if he was going to lean in to kiss her. She suddenly realised how much she wanted him to. Not to prove her point; somehow that agenda had taken a back seat, so far back it was now in the boot. No, she wanted him to kiss her because she really wanted to know what his mouth felt like. How it would feel as it moved over hers. How it would taste. How his tongue would feel as it stroked along hers. Mated with hers.

Then he did touch her. It was a fleeting stroke of two of his fingers down the slope of her cheek in a movement as soft as an artist’s sable brush. It sent a shockwave through her senses. Every nerve in her face began tingling, spiralling in dizzy delight. She moistened her lips, barely aware she was doing it until she saw the way his sexily hooded gaze followed the pathway of her tongue.

Holly slowly brought her gaze back up to the midnight-sky-dark intensity of his. His expression was unfathomable. She didn’t know what he was thinking. What he was feeling. She was scarcely able to think clearly herself. And as to her feelings... She didn’t allow her feelings to get involved when she got physical with a man. Never.

‘Who are you, Holly Perez, and what do you want?’

‘I really should’ve made you lay down some money,’ she said.

‘You think I’m going to kiss you?’

‘You’re thinking about it—that much I do know.’ Why am I speaking in such a husky whisper? Holly thought. Anyone would think she was falling under some sort of crazy spell. Sure, he was handsome and he smelled good. Way too good, compared to some of the men she’d been up close and personal with. But he was a man who wanted to tame her and that she could never allow. Not in a million years.

His mouth tilted in a half smile. ‘You think you can read my mind?’

‘I don’t know about your mind but your body’s giving off one heck of a signal,’ she said.

‘So is yours.’

Tell me something I don’t already know, Holly thought, sneaking in a hitching breath. Somehow the power base between them had shifted. She was no longer in charge of her body. It was reacting according to its own schedule, a schedule she had no control over. Her senses were scrambled. Caught up in a maelstrom of feelings she had never encountered before. Desire was running like a hot fever in her blood. She could feel her own wetness between her legs. She wondered if he could smell the musk of her arousal. She could feel the tingling of her breasts in anticipation of him reaching for them. As it was, his chest was barely half an inch away from hers.

In the past her breasts had felt nothing when a man stood close to her. They were just there—part of her anatomy. Now they were deeply sensitive erogenous zones that craved contact. They pushed against the fabric of her bra, swelling in need, her nipples peaking in response to his presence.

She could even sense the swell of his erection close to where her pelvis pulsed with need. The hot, hard, swollen heat of him was sending out a signal like sonar to her body, making her ache and throb with want.

‘I would only sleep with you to prove a point,’ Holly said in a way she hoped sounded offhand. ‘Sorry if that offends your ego.’

He picked up one of her curls and wound it around his index finger. The gentle tug on her scalp sent a shot of lust between her legs, turning her core to molten fire. His eyes were so dark they reminded her of deep outer space. Limitless. Fathomless. ‘It doesn’t, because we’re not going to sleep together.’ His voice was only slightly less husky than hers.

‘Could’ve fooled me.’

He pressed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip, holding it there for a moment before lifting it away. But still he didn’t move away from her. His body was toe to toe with hers. If she leaned forward a fraction, their thighs would touch. The temptation to do so was like an invisible hand pushing her from behind. She brushed against the unmistakable hardness of him. Felt the shock through her flesh like a powerful current. It shot through her body in an arc of erotic energy that left no part of her unaffected. She saw the way his pupils flared, his eyes darkening, pulsing and glinting with want.

‘You want me so bad I bet all it would take is one little kitten-lick of my tongue to send you over the edge,’ Holly said, shocking herself at her wanton goading of him. Why was she being so utterly brazen? He had the edge on her here. He had already told her he would evict her from the programme. That had been his intention when he’d come down to speak to her. She would be sent to prison. She had no second chances. If she pushed him too far, he would get rid of her. Wasn’t that what everyone did to her? She knew what was at risk but even so she couldn’t stop herself. She was driven by the urges of her body—her traitorous body—which seemed to have developed an agenda of its own.

Julius sent a fingertip from the top of her cleavage, down the length of her sternum, over her quivering belly and then down to the zip of her jeans. He outlined the seam of her body through the denim and metal teeth of her zip, all the while holding her gaze with the smouldering blaze of his own. ‘I bet I could make you come first,’ he said in a two-parts gravel, one-part honey tone.

Holly almost came on the spot. She felt the flickering of her nerve endings, the swelling of her body as it ached and throbbed for more stimulation. She had to get away from him before he won this. He had far more self-control than she had bargained for and certainly far more than she had. What was he...made of steel?

‘I could be faking it and how would you know?’ she said.

His mouth slanted again in a cynical smile. ‘I would know.’

Holly let out a breath that caught at her throat like a tiny fishhook. ‘In my book, sexual confidence in men is arrogance in disguise.’

He outlined her mouth with that same lazy, tantalising glide of his finger. Tracing, touching, teasing her lips until she wanted to suck his fingertip into her mouth and draw on it as if she was drawing on him intimately. Not that she ever did that. Not for anyone. She hated it. It was gross and so were the men who insisted on it. But something about Julius made her want to step outside her boundaries. He triggered all sorts of forbidden urges in her. Was it because he was so conservative? Or was it because he was the first man she had ever felt this raging, red-hot passion for?