When she bent to reach for the soap on the ledge, he almost tripped.
Three days. Argent gritted his teeth. Three days he’d prepared for this. He was a man of ultimate patience and discipline. He wasn’t brave, he was fearless. His will wasn’t strong, it was iron. He’d been burned, whipped, stabbed, and beaten without so much as a moan of pain.
So why did the sight of Millie LeCour’s glorious ass have him swallowing a whimper?
She sank back down just before his knees gave out.
Her ebony head disappeared beneath the water to rinse her hair, and Argent seized the moment. If he’d made any sound, the fact that her head was submerged would smother it.
But he didn’t.
This couldn’t go on. He had to end it. Now. Sweet or no, chains were chains, and Argent had long since promised he wouldneverbe imprisoned again. Not even by the velvet ropes of Millie LeCour.
The water barely made a ripple as he lowered himself into the bath, reached down, and pulled her naked, glistening body up from beneath the surface.
She came up fighting.
Gasping for breath, she made a wild swipe at his face. The force of it, combined with the water, actually stung.
Argent barely stopped himself from bending her over and taking her against the edge of the pool. He was hard as a diamond.
Turning her, he subdued her easily, shackling one arm around her middle, chaining her arms to her sides. This time, instead of wrapping his arm around her neck, he clamped his hand over her mouth.
He could drown her. It would only be fair. For, though he had her in his clutches, he was the one being pulled under. Her skin, made slippery by water and soap, created a delicious friction even through the layers of his wet clothing.
Her bare bottom rubbed against the hard sex straining behind his wet trousers, letting it rest in the cleft between the two supple curves.
They froze. Both unsure of what he would do next.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Through her panic, Millie recognized the solid body pressed against her naked back. She’d been in quite this same position before.
Except then she hadn’t been aware of the true danger. This was no obsessed admirer. His hold was firm but painless. The hand cupped over her mouth bowed as though to spare her lips the pain of being ground against her teeth.
Though the sex pressed against her posterior caused tremors of terror violent enough to ripple the water.
“I made a promise to Mr. McGivney that I wouldn’t make you scream,” he rumbled against her ear. His breath was hot against the wet, sensitive skin of her neck, but his tone was flat and cold as the Thames. “If you make a liar out of me, you’ll regret it. Do we have an understanding?”
Millie swallowed a sob of terror, seeking composure. Panic served no purpose. She had to keep her wits about her.
She nodded and he released her mouth. When she licked her lips, she instantly regretted it. They tasted of salt and flesh that was not her own. A flavor she did not find repugnant.
And damned if it didn’t make her nipples tighten.
“What do you want with me? What have you done to Mr. McGivney?” she whispered, disgusted with her body’s reaction to his nearness.
Then another thought lanced through her, followed by a flash of hot rage. “If you’ve hurt Jakub, I’m going to—”
“I have not gone near your son, but heisin danger.”
Millie’s gasp brought her breasts closer to the arm encircling her waist like a steel vise. “Is that a threat?” she hissed.
“It’s a fact.”
Her throat clogged with alarm. “Don’t do this,” she rasped. Her fear evaporated, changing into equal parts determination and desperation. Her survival meant nothing in the face of Jakub’s safety. “I’ll do anything you want.”
He was quiet a long time, and still as the dead, but for the steady pulse of his manhood against the cleft of her ass.