'No,' she said hurriedly, before his mouth closed demandingly over hers and silenced her.
Her heart began beating so fast she felt giddy. The yacht seemed suddenly to be going round in circles, making her head spin, her mind dissolve. Her ears were deafened by the rush and roar of her own blood.
The insistent pressure of his mouth, the slow caressing movements of his hands as they slid under her sweater and moulded her body softly between them, made her shudder in fierce response.
She tried to wrench her head away, but Luc's hand fixed it there while his lips forced hers to part and moistly invaded her mouth. Hating herself, helpless to do anything to halt her own response, she trembled in his arms. Her arms moved to enclose his head. She began to return his kisses with a heat which flew out of her control within minutes.
Luc's kisses deepened, heated, commanded more and more response. Lissa made no further attempt to halt him. When his fingers brushed lightly, coaxingly down her skin she moaned, her own hand tracing the arch of his back, tunnelling beneath his sweater, her fingertips feeling the tiny hairs, the flexed muscles, the bone and sinew beneath the smooth skin.
Her exploring fingers found a small scar marring the back of his shoulder and ran over it, following it. Luc lifted his head, his breath coming raggedly. 'A fight with a shark,' he breathed, laughing.
'Why are you so reckless?' Lissa groaned.
'It's my nature,' he told her casually. 'Take me as you find me, Lissa.' He paused and their eyes met. 'Are you going to take me, Lissa?' he asked in that husky, impeded voice.
He slid his hand gently up her body. She felt the cool trail of his fingertips on her breast and her body winced with a pleasure that was like pain. Luc outlined the high, soft peak with delicate brushes of his fingers. She closed her eyes, moaning, and heard him laugh under his breath.
' Brandon never made you feel like this, did he?' he asked as he took her mouth again, his lips hard and hot.
She had meant to fight, but it was like fighting life itself. Everything alive in her craved for what he was doing. She was only denying herself if she denied him.
His hands travelled down her again. She felt the zip of her jeans slide down and her body tightened. She pushed Luc's hand away, pulling her head back to exclaim angrily: 'No!'
His hand had slid inside her jeans before she could halt it again. Luc stroked her bare midriff and Lissa shook violently at the warm, intimate caress.
'No?' he whispered, smiling.
She closed her eyes. 'Please, Luc, give me time. You're rushing me.'
'I want to hear you admit you want me,' Luc muttered, his face buried in her throat. He kissed the throbbing pulse which was making it very clear how far he had aroused her. 'You never wanted Brandon, Lissa, but you want me.'
'Yes,' she moaned, giving up. the struggle to resist. It was taking all her energy, exhausting her. The tidal beat of passion had too much force in it and she was tired of struggling against it.
Luc gave a long, hoarse sigh of satisfaction. For a long moment he lay still, his lips at her neck, then he sat up and gave her an intent stare.
'Now look at me and let me hear you say that again,' he said in a quiet voice.
Lissa stared at him dazedly. 'What?'
'I'm not touching you now,' he pointed out, lifting his hands to show her. 'I'm not rushing you. Be honest, Lissa. When you came with me you knew what you were doing, didn't you? You weren't just walking out on Brandon, you were choosing me.'
Her eyes moved away; she swallowed painfully.
'Weren't you, Lissa?' he insisted.
'I don't know,' she whispered. 'Why can't you give me time to think? How do I know what I feel?'
'I could tell you,' Luc said drily, 'But I suppose you wouldn't want to hear.' He stood up and moved away. 'You'd better get off to bed.'
She didn't move, staring at the back of his head. Luc looked at her over his shoulder, his face set. 'Alone,' he expanded flatly. 'I've no intention of forcing myself on you tonight.'
With trembling fingers she zipped up her jeans, pulled down her sweater. As she stood up she swayed and Luc turned to support her.
'What's the matter, Lissa?' he asked mockingly. 'Feeling weak?'
She felt a flare of rage as she looked at the smile he was giving her. 'I'm tired,' she said, moving away from him.
'Oh, is that it?’
She didn't bother to reply to that. She made her way to the door and said flatly, 'Goodnight,' as she left the cabin.
She heard him murmur 'Goodnight,' and closed the door. Her own cabin seemed very small and very quiet. She undressed and got into her bunk. There was no sign of Fortune. Dandy must have him in-his quarters, she recognised, and guessed that that had been Luc's idea. His plans for the night had not included the presence of her dog.
Lissa turned on to her face and hated herself. Her few token efforts to resist him had been easily controlled. She had been a pushover for him. Why am I such a fool? she asked herself, and had no answer to give.
Chris's urgent lovemaking had merely worried her. Luc somehow managed to light a quick-burning fuse inside her every time he touched her.
How long would it take them to get to England? She had little money and she knew nobody in England. She was as much at Luc's mercy as she had been at Chris's. If Luc could beat down all her weak struggles in one evening, what chance had she got of holding out against him until they reached England? And even if she did, what was she going to do once she left the yacht?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Faint white ribbons of light drifted across the cabin when Lissa opened her eyes next morning. They had sailed into mist, and whoever was in charge of the yacht had switched on an intermittent hooter which gave hoarse sighs every now and again. Lissa lay listening to them, staring at the ceiling. There was a strong swell this morning. The yacht flounced like an angry woman and she wasn't sure her stomach altogether approved of the motion.
There was a tap at her door. 'Come in,' she called in a slightly nervous voice.
Dandy appeared with a tray. 'Morning, princess,’ he said cheerfully, shooting a quick look at her. 'Misty, but it's beginning to clear.'
'The boat keeps rolling about,' Lissa complained.
Dandy grinned. 'You wait until we're right out in the Atlantic!'
She made a face, 'I think I'd rather get off now.'
He eyed her consideringly. 'Feeling queasy, are we?'
'A little,' she admitted.
Dandy glanced down at the tray. 'Want this?' He uncovered a plate of bacon and egg and Lissa turned her head away, her nostrils wrinkling at the odour.
'Not much,' she muttered, swallowing. 'I'm sorry.'
'You've got to eat something,' Dandy assured her. 'Have some dry toast.'
She was reluctant to eat anything, but he insisted that she nibble a little toast and drink some of his strong coffee. 'Little dog slept with me,' he told her as he walked back to the door. 'He's up on deck getting some exercise on a rope.'
Lissa lay in the bunk for half an hour slowly adjusting to the pitch and swell. When she felt strong enough she got up and dressed.
As she emerged from the shelter of the gangway the wind almost lifted her like a doll. She grabbed at the rail and heard voices.
Luc's rose curtly. 'Mind your own damned business!'
'Don't take that tone with me, boy,' Dandy growled. His eyes flicked towards her over Luc's shoulder and his face changed. 'Morning, miss. Managed to get up, did you? Good girl!'
Luc did not turn. He stood with his back to her and Dandy glanced at him before shrugging and walking away.
Lissa looked at the straight, lithe body turned away from her, then she walked to the rail and looked out over the ocean. She heard Luc move, heard the slow fall of his steps. He came to a stop beside her and his stare probed her profile, reading her mood in the tightness of her skin.
'Dandy says you felt sick this morning. Better now?'