I stared into those blue eyes and felt my knees go weak. I wanted to curse myself. This was important. This was something he needed not to be able to talk his way out of. And he wanted to kill me, I knew it. He knew, somehow, what I’d done, even before I spoke. Those eyes were as cold as ice. What I needed now was hardly to be losing my breath with desire. And then I saw it kindle in his eyes as well. His hand moved, caught my blouse, and yanked. The fabric ripped, sound loud enough to cover my little cry, and his mouth came down on mine. His tongue thrust into my mouth as he dragged the bra down. He pinched one nipple, hard, and I moaned with something that might have been pain and might have been lust. “What did you see?” His fingers tangled in my hair and pulled hard, dragging my head back as the other fingers twisted at my nipple again. I felt his tongue trace down the front of my neck. “What did you do, Catriona?”
