Stormy Vows/Tempest at Sea (8 page)

She shivered at the implacable ruthlessness in the lean face. “Can't you see it's no use?” she asked pleadingly.

“No, I can't,” he said with determination. “And before I leave here tonight, I'm going to make you realize just what we could have together.”

Her gaze flew to his, her brown eyes reflecting the panic of a startled doe. “No,” she protested breathlessly, struggling to free
herself from his restraining hands gripping her arms. “You promised!”

His hands tightened relentlessly, drawing her inexorably closer, quelling her frantic struggles with effortless strength. “Stop fighting me, Brenna!” He groaned huskily. “Don't you know I have to have something to keep me from going crazy in the next few weeks?” Then she was in his arms, pressed against his muscular body and experiencing the burning heat of his male hardness through the thin jersey of her robe. It was almost as if she were totally naked and completely vulnerable in his arms.

“Let me go,” she gasped, twisting desperately to escape the tormenting closeness that was branding her as his possession.

It was as if he didn't hear her. His face held only a glazed absorption. He closed his eyes, drawing in his breath raggedly. “God, I want you!”

His mouth covered hers with such a savage need that she felt that she was being absorbed into him, as if she were becoming a mere extension of the desire that consumed him. His lips covered her face and throat with hot kisses before returning to ravish her parted lips with a dizzying penetration. She groaned helplessly at the sheer sensual pleasure his teasing tongue produced. His hands moved in an agony of frustration, feverishly caressing her back and bottom, cupping and exploring the silken skin through the flimsy material of the robe.

She was swept up in a cyclone of sensation, her body feeling as weak as melted butter as she leaned helplessly against him. He gave a triumphant chuckle as he raised his head to stare down at her with barbaric satisfaction, the electric blue eyes blazing. With deliberate slowness, his eyes holding hers almost hypnotically, his hands loosened the tie at her waist and parted the robe. He stared in glazed anticipation at her silken curves. Brenna could feel a tide of emotion electrify her body at the intensity of emotion on his face. He wasn't even touching her, yet she could
feel her breasts firming, their rosy peaks hardening as if he were caressing them. “Damn, you're lovely,” he said hoarsely. “You're mine, aren't you? Tell me you belong to me.”

Then without waiting for a reply, he lowered his mouth to those teasing peaks that were entreating his caress. His tongue toyed tormentingly with each luscious mound until she was shaking with the erotic reaction that he was arousing in her. She remembered how earlier in the evening she had mentally compared him to a vampire. She realized now, with a swift rush of panic, how correct the simile had been. He was using his overpowering sensual magnetism to drain the resistance from her, leaving her a chattel to an aching need that she had never known could exist.

He raised his head and then slowly closed the robe, tying the belt deftly. He gazed broodingly at her flushed face and soft bruised mouth. Then he caught his breath sharply as he encountered wide brown eyes that were shining with helpless wonder.

“God, don't look at me like that, sweetheart,” he groaned huskily, burying his face in her silky brown hair. He carefully withheld his taut body from her pliant curves. “I'm within an inch of picking you up and carrying you into that bedroom and raping you.” His teeth nibbled at her ear, causing delicious shivers to run through her body. “And it would be rape, because as willing as I can make that gorgeous body of yours, your mind is still rejecting me.”

He rubbed his lower body against hers sensuously. “I don't want only a one night stand with you, love. We're going to be together a long, long time. I want your body, your mind, and your soul. I'm going to own you, Brenna Sloan.”

For one mad moment she accepted that arrogant assertion of dominance with blind submission, willing to yield everything to regain the throbbing pleasure he had made her feel. Then the independence of a lifetime asserted itself with a rush of scalding
shame. My God, what was she doing, she thought with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Where was her pride and self-respect that she could be vanquished so easily by this man's sexual expertise? Was she to be like her mother and Janine, used by men for their own gratification, and then tossed aside like a piece of refuse?

His grip had automatically loosened at the signs of her surrender, and with one lithe twist she was free of him. She moved quickly to the other side of the room before turning to face him. Her face was pale and taut, and she hugged her arms close to her body as if to form a physical barrier between them.

“Is the demonstration over?” she asked defiantly, lifting her chin proudly. “If it is, I wish you'd leave.”

There was disappointment and a reluctant admiration in Donovan's face as he watched her with narrowed eyes. “I almost had you, sweetheart,” he said thoughtfully. “I wonder where I went wrong.”

“Your mistake was forgetting that I am my own person,” she said coolly. “Not some sort of slave for your amusement. You won't get another chance.”

His smile was mocking, and his eyes flashed recklessly. “Bad move, darling,” he said gently. “Haven't you heard I can't resist a challenge?” Then as she stiffened defensively, he shook his head. “Not tonight. I think I've made enough progress for one night, don't you?”

A scarlet flush dyed her cheeks at the memory of how easily Donovan had brushed aside her defenses as if they didn't exist, leaving her so humiliatingly subservient to his passion and her own.

“Don't worry, Brenna, my promise still stands,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “Though I imagine I'll be taking a hell of a lot of cold showers in the near future.” He grimaced. “It wouldn't be at all a bad idea right now.”

He strolled back to the bar and picked up his half empty glass and finished the drink in one swallow. When he turned back to her, his demeanor was coolly impersonal.

“Tomorrow morning you'll be free to go over your lines. I'll have Monty pick you up at noon to take you to Sound Stage B. You'll need to be fitted for costumes and meet the director, Jake Dominic.”

She should have been relieved at his return to a businesslike attitude, but she was conscious of an illogical resentment that he could so easily turn off his emotions when she was still a mass of quivering butterflies inside. With no little effort she succeeded in masking her discomposure.

“I'll be ready,” she said icily, then the last part of his sentence struck home. “Jake Dominic is directing?”

Donovan nodded, his mouth twisting cynically. “I'm surprised you didn't know,” he said dryly. “I thought everyone in the business kept up with Jake's activities. In bed and out.”

That was a patent understatement, Brenna thought wryly. The entire world displayed an interest in the antics of filmdom's bad boy. Jake Dominic was totally brilliant, and the most sought after director in Hollywood. His success had closely paralleled the meteoric rise of Michael Donovan, and the two men were known to be good friends. His personal life was as attention getting as his career image. Fabulously wealthy in his own right, film success and his satanic good looks proved irresistible to women. Even in an industry where morals were notoriously loose, Dominic's reputation was scandalous. Though Donovan's affairs were legion, he guarded his privacy closely. Dominic, on the other hand, had a reckless disregard for publicity, and was constantly in the gossip columns.

“Jake Dominic,” she repeated musingly. She wondered idly if she had fallen from the frying pan into the fire. Surely one rake of Donovan's calibre was enough to contend with.

Donovan's eyes narrowed dangerously. “He interests you?” he asked silkily. “I'm afraid you'll have to forget any aspirations in that direction. I've already told Jake that you're off limits.”

She flushed with indignation at the thought of Donovan discussing his strictly dishonorable intentions toward her with his equally dissolute cohort. How dare he stake her out as if she were some kind of property! There was no way that she would admit that her interest in Dominic was less anticipatory than wary.

“From what I understand, Mr. Dominic doesn't take kindly to restrictions of any kind,” she said coolly. “So we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?”

Donovan's eyes flickered. “Don't make the mistake of trying to score off me through Jake,” he warned tightly. “He might be my best friend, but I'm not about to share you with him.”

Brenna shrugged insolently, and opened her mouth to tell him just what she thought of his arrogant statement, when there was a brisk knock on the door.

Donovan's eyes flew to her face. “Are you expecting someone?” he asked sharply.

“Who would I be expecting?” she asked caustically. “I'm the new girl in town, remember?”

With a muttered curse he strode swiftly to the door and threw it open. He surveyed the man who stood there with extreme displeasure.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jake?” he growled sourly. “I thought I had made myself clear.”

The deep masculine voice of their visitor was mocking. “You always make yourself clear, Michael. I'm not here to poach on your preserves. I'm here purely on business.”

Donovan moved aside reluctantly. “It better be damn pure,” he said bluntly, as the other man strolled into the room. “You haven't had a platonic thought about a woman since you were in kindergarten.” He turned to Brenna and said shortly, “This is Jake Dominic, Brenna.”

Dominic glided forward, lithely graceful as a panther in pursuit of it's prey, to take her hand in his. He was almost sinfully handsome, she thought, with his dark eyes, dark hair, and the face of a fallen angel. If the eyes had the jaded cynicism of one who had done everything, seen everything, and found the world now a trifle boring, it only added to the wicked attraction of the man.

“You're always so gracious, Michael,” he said over his shoulder, black eyes gleaming with amusement. Then he turned his attention to Brenna. His glance ran over her with lazy impudence. “Delightful, quite delightful!” he drawled softly. “It's really completely unfair of my barbaric friend here to try to keep such a prize to himself. I'm very happy to meet you, Miss Sloan.”

“Cut it out, Jake,” Donovan ordered bluntly. “What are you doing here? I told you this morning that I'd have Monty bring Brenna by the set tomorrow afternoon.”

“I have to fly to Nevada in the morning to reshoot some scenes on location,” Dominic said smoothly. “As you're so determined to have the picture finished on schedule, I thought I'd drop by and have my discussion with Miss Sloan tonight.”

“At this time of night?” Donovan asked skeptically.

Dominic checked his watch casually. “It's barely eleven,” he challenged. “Since when have you cared about keeping conventional hours where a picture is concerned?”

Donovan muttered a curse under his breath, and gave in abruptly. Turning to Brenna, his glance ran over her flimsily clad body critically. “Get dressed, Brenna,” he ordered harshly.

An irrepressible chuckle escaped from Dominic, as the swift color came to Brenna's cheeks. With her head held high, she turned on her heel and strode furiously into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

As she quickly discarded the robe and donned panties and bra and a pair of faded blue jeans and a scarlet sweatshirt, she muttered stormy imprecations beneath her breath at the arrogance
and chauvinism of men in general, and Donovan and Dominic in particular. Then putting her feet into a pair of scuffed loafers, she marched back into the living room. It did not improve her temper to see the two men apparently on the best of terms, drinks in their hands, talking in a desultory fashion about outtakes.

They both turned at her entrance, and a mischievous smile appeared on Dominic's face as he took in her less than elegant garb. “Ah, the young maid cometh,” he said teasingly. “Tell me, Michael, do you think that outfit will sufficiently discourage my lustful nature?”

“Shut up, Jake,” Donovan growled sourly.

Dominic cocked an eyebrow, dark eyes gleaming devilishly. “You know what a satyr I am,” he said silkily. “I wonder if we should send over to wardrobe for a suit of armor.”

“Jake!” Donovan said warningly.

“Or perhaps we could order a chastity belt,” Dominic suggested irrepressibly.”

“Very funny,” Donovan said disgustedly.

“I thought so,” Dominic said easily. “Now don't you think we've made Miss Sloan uncomfortable enough with our remarks? It's about time to get down to business. Run along, Michael, we have work to do.”

A scowl darkened Michael's face. “I'm going to stay,” he said belligerently.

Dominic raised his head, and suddenly the rakish playboy image was gone entirely. “No, you will not,” he said sharply, dark eyes commanding. “We have a scene to go over. I have instructions to give, and a rapport to establish with an actress I'm directing in a film. I will not have you standing over us glowering like a jealous lover, and interfering with my work. You know damn well if you were directing, there's no way you would permit it. Well, neither will I!” He turned to Brenna and said in exasperation. “Will you kindly tell our mutual friend here that
you're not afraid of the big bad wolf, and that he may leave with your sanction?”

Brenna was stunned at the amazing metamorphosis that had taken place before her eyes. Jake Dominic was obviously a very complex and powerful personality indeed to challenge a man of Donovan's calibre. “I'm not at all frightened of you, Mr. Dominic,” she said slowly. “And Mr. Donovan knows very well that I don't want him here.”

There was an incoherent exclamation from Donovan as he slammed his drink down on the glass end table and strode angrily toward the door. Jerking it open, he turned to regard them grimly. “The only reason I'm leaving is because you're right, Jake. I'd react the same way to any interference while I was trying to do my job,” he said harshly. “But you'd better be damn sure you stick to business!” The door slammed behind him with a resounding bang.