"That's because you care about me. I find that very promising."
"Then on your head be it. I've warned you. As far as I'm concerned, you're no more than the Khadim I bought with that trinket in San Francisco. I'll use you when and where I please and ignore you at any other time. Don't expect anything else."
"I don't expect anything at all." Her eyes were enormous as she gazed wistfully at him. "I can only hope."
"God! What am I going to do with you?"
Love me. Only love me. "Knowing you, I imagine you'll do exactly what suits your fancy," she said lightly.
His lips tightened. "You're right. And we might as well start right now. After I've finished using a woman I prefer that she return to her own bed. I like to sleep alone."
"Of course," she said softly. "I'll leave at once." She swung her feet to the floor, flinching a little as she felt a tingle of soreness between her thighs.
Philip muttered a low, explicit curse beneath his breath. "Oh, for heaven's sake, lie down again. Tomorrow will do as well."
"You're sure?" she asked uncertainly. "I could ..."
"Pandora," he said through set teeth. "Shut up."
"All right." She curled up contentedly in the big bed again, happy with the reprieve. She hadn't wanted to leave him so soon. "If you change your mind, just tell me."
"Be sure of it," he said dryly. He untied the belt of the velour robe and took it off. It was almost dark in the room now, and he was only a sleek shadow as he moved to the other side of the bed and slipped beneath the sheet. "Go to sleep."
"I will." She was almost asleep already. The physical and emotional release she'd experienced were having an almost narcotic effect on her. "Thank you for letting me stay," she murmured like a polite little girl.
"It's only for tonight," he growled. "Don't make so much of it."
"Whatever you say," she said drowsily.
He lay there on his back, separated from her by the width of the large bed, yet imagining he could still feel her warm, yielding flesh. His own body was rigid as he brought up his arm to rest it beneath his head, his eyes staring straight ahead into the darkness. "Did I hurt you?" he asked jerkily.
"What?" She tried to struggle up out of the cocoon that was wrapping her in the silken fibers of sleep. "No, not very much."
"Well, I might have," he said harshly. "It would have been entirely your own fault, you realize. I'm not a gentle man, but I don't enjoy hurting women. If you'd had any sense, you would have told—" He broke off. His tirade was falling on deaf ears. He could tell by Pandora's deep, even breathing that she was asleep.
"Damn!" It was just like the maddening brat to drift peacefully off to sleep, leaving him in this aching void of frustration. He had just had her, but he was as hard and throbbing as when he'd held her on his lap in the chair and ... He drew a long, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't think about it. He had to think about how she'd tricked him, about the way she'd manipulated him as if he were a blasted puppet. He had always had control over his emotions. He would just have to practice that control now.
* * *
He was infinitely careful as he slid into her warmth. First she was empty and then she was full of his hardness. From the deepest reaches of sleep she was conscious of his gentleness as he began to move. How beautiful it was, she thought dreamily. Not like before, when it had been hard and fast and breathlessly exciting. This was slow and lazy and sweetly fulfilling. She tried to open her eyes. "Philip ..."
"Shhh ... I didn't mean to do this. I lay there half the night fighting it. But I can't help myself."
"S'all right." Her words were slightly slurred. "I like it."
He chuckled. "I'm glad one of us approves." He bent down and lightly kissed one eyelid and then the other. The tempo of his thrusts escalated. She could hear the heaviness of his breathing above her and feel the tension building in him. She tried to help, but his hands were immediately at her hips, preventing her from moving. "No, I'm trying to hold on to what control I have left. Idon't want to hurt you. I shouldn't be doing this again tonight."
"You should be doing whatever you want to do," she whispered. "I'll always want you, Philip."
He went still. "Will you?" He bent forward to kiss the delicate blue tracery of veins at her temple. "I think the only thing you want right now is to go back to sleep." With a flurry of powerful thrusts, he gained a fiery release from the tension that had tormented him for the past hours. Then he was gone, shifting off, but not away from her this time. He pulled her close, cradling her against his shoulder so that her hair fell on his chest in a silken silver veil. Gradually his breathing grew steady and his heartbeat slowed.
"Did I help?" she asked sleepily.
"I didn't mean to do that to you." His words were stilted, his voice thick with disgust. "Pandora, I'm . . . sorry."
"Did it help?" she asked again.
"Yes. Oh, Lord, yes, it helped."
"Then that's all that's important." She gave his shoulder a drowsy kiss. "I like helping you. Good night, Philip."
He didn't answer for a moment, and when he did his voice was a little husky. "Good night, Pandora."
He wasn't sure she had heard him. She was asleep again.
He found it impossible to follow suit. He should have been pleasantly relaxed, but he found himself charged with a mysterious tension that had nothing to do with desire. Tenderness. Dear heaven, he had never felt such tenderness before.
It was like an immense tidal wave sweeping through him. He didn't want to feel like this. Not about anyone or anything. He wouldn't feel like this. He liked his life the way it was.
Pandora would belong to him, but it would be in the way he chose. What that way would be, he hadn't the wildest idea at the moment. But one thing was certain: Making love to her again any time soon would be a mistake. He wanted her too much. That desire would give her a power he wasn't willing to yield to anyone. He would just have to stay away from her until that fever cooled. It shouldn't take long. No woman had ever managed to hold his interest for more than a few weeks.
However, it wasn't desire that was putting his every nerve on edge. It was the tenderness. That emotion was far more dangerous than sexual arousal. He would have to take great care to guard himself against Pandora and that bewildering gentleness she inspired in him. He wasn't aware that even as the resolve was made, his arm tightened around her in protection.
* * *
He was still holding her in his arms when she opened her eyes the next morning. The gray light of predawn was filtering through the windows, showing her his face, so close to her own. She lay there in blissful contentment for a little while, just letting the wonderful intimacy of the moment seep into her. How many times in the last six years had she daydreamed about Philip holding her like this?
He looked so tired. Dark shadows were painted beneath his eyes, and his cheeks were hollow. At the moment he looked every day of his thirty-eight years. When he was awake he was so filled with energy and strength that she had never been aware he could be as vulnerable as this. She felt a rush of tenderness that flowed into every part of her. She had loved him for so long, yet she had never felt this maternal protectiveness before. She dropped a light kiss on his cheekbone and reluctantly slid out of his embrace.