FORGOTTEN LOVER by Carole Mortimer (the reader ebook .TXT) 📕

‘Greg was just going, weren’t you, Greg?’ She gave him a pleading look, aware of the interpretation Jerard Daniels had put on the situation—and she intended putting him straight about that at the earliest opportunity, like now!

‘I—Oh yes,’ Greg agreed eagerly, forgetting all about the complaint he had come up to deal with and stepping back into the lift.

The doors closed, leaving Velvet alone with Jerard Daniels. She licked her suddenly dry lips, subconsciously noticing how handsome he looked in the casual blue shirt and tight-fitting denims. ‘I think I should tell you,’ she began huskily, ‘that Greg—’

‘I’m not interested in what you intended doing in your room with one of my employees,’ he cut in stonily. ‘What you care to do with—friends of yours is none of my concern. Unless,’ his gaze sharpened, ‘Mr Boyd happens to be on duty, then I might make it my business. Is he?’

‘Well, he—’

‘Is he?’

‘Yes! But—’

‘Then I’ll deal with him later,’ he said grimly.

‘Look, Mr Daniels, you have it all wrong. I—’ she broke off as someone came out of a room farther up the corridor, giving them a curious look as he walked to the lift. ‘Could we possibly discuss this in my room? she asked impatiently.

A speculative look came into those deep blue eyes. ‘If you would prefer that.’

Velvet sighed. ‘I wasn’t suggesting anything but sorting out this muddle, Mr Daniels.’ She unlocked her door, going inside to switch on the lights, opening the balcony doors in the heat of the evening. When she turned round it was to find Jerard Daniels seated in her one armchair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. ‘Make yourself at home,’ she said dryly.

‘I am,’ he returned equally dryly.

‘Oh—Oh yes, of course.’ She blushed at her stupidity, feeling ridiculously nervous with him looking so relaxed in the room that contained her bed.

‘You were saying?’ he prompted mockingly, his blue-eyed gaze running over her appearance with insolent appraisal.

It made Velvet feel hot all over to think that this man might have known her more intimately than any other man except Anthony.

‘Velvet!’ he snapped.

‘I—Oh yes,’ she licked her lips nervously. ‘Greg wasn’t with me, he was up here to answer a complaint.’

‘Which he didn’t do,’ Jerard Daniels drawled.

‘No. Well, he—You—you made him nervous, suddenly appearing like that!’

He sat forward. ‘So now it’s my fault,’ he said tauntingly.

‘What did you want to see me about, Mr Daniels?’ she demanded to know, knowing now that she could never reason with this man about Faye Rogers.

He was on his feet in two seconds flat, his hands painfully grasping her upper arms. ‘Don’t “Mr Daniels” me one more time,’ he bit out fiercely, ‘or I swear I’ll rape you where you stand!’

Velvet paled. ‘Rape …?’

‘Yes!’ his teeth snapped together viciously. ‘It would give me intense pleasure to remind you of all the things you’ve conveniently forgotten, to show you how well I know the pleasure of your body—and the pleasure I can give you.’ His hands moved deliberately to the sensitive area just below her shoulder-blades, watching with satisfaction the shiver of exquisite pleasure that shot through every nerve in her body. ‘You see?’ he scorned. ‘Every time you call me Mr Daniels you’re challenging me to show you what else I know to do to make you squirm in ecstasy. And if you do it once more I swear I’ll carry out my threat.’

She knew by the dangerous glitter in his eyes that he meant every word. She licked her lips nervously. ‘I won’t do it again,’ she said shakily.

His gaze was fixed on the parted wetness of her mouth. ‘Don’t do that either!’ he groaned. ‘God, who am I kidding!’ His arms tightened about her. ‘I don’t need an excuse to make love to you.’ He pulled her roughly against him, his mouth covering hers.

It was exactly like the last time, the warm burning kisses that devoured and possessed her, the agony of memories she just couldn’t bring to her conscious mind.

‘God, Velvet,’ he groaned against her lips, ‘I’m going to make you admit to remembering me.’

‘But I—’

He swung her up into his arms, walking over to the bed to deposit her on its softness before swiftly joining her, his leg over hers trapping her to the bed. ‘Just lie back and enjoy it, Velvet,’ he gave a taunting smile. ‘Think of England if you have to,’ he mocked before his mouth once more took possession of hers.

England! God, yes, England and Tony. She began to struggle, but Jerard just hurt her, all his weight now pressing her down into the bed, forcing her to accept the intimacy of his mouth, the rough caresses of his hands.

He wouldn’t release her mouth from his, and Velvet felt the zip of her dress slide down her spine, the soft material pushed carelessly down to her waist. Her struggles were to no avail, and when she felt the fastening of her bra being undone, that lacy garment discarded to the floor, Jerard’s fingertips on the rosy peaks of her breasts, she didn’t want to struggle any more.

She gasped with pleasure, her head thrown back as Jerard’s head moved down and his experienced lips claimed one nipple, the tip of his tongue causing excitement to ripple through her body.

‘Do you remember me now?’ he raised his head to rasp.

Her face contorted with pain and embarrassment. ‘No,’ she moaned, knowing she didn’t tell the whole truth. She did remember being kissed like this before, she just didn’t know when; by whom was obvious. ‘I—Perhaps you could tell me—’

‘I’m showing you,’ he snapped, suddenly moving off the bed to look down at her with open contempt. ‘Maybe it’s as well your husband died when he did,’ his mouth twisted. ‘You probably can’t even remember the way he made love either.’

She went deathly white. She didn’t remember Anthony’s lovemaking. But this man didn’t know the reason for that, couldn’t even begin to imagine why she didn’t even remember Anthony being her husband.

She bit