Excerpt from Lovers Never Lie
A sound as soft as a sigh escaped his lips. "You're part of it, aren't you?" His fingers became an iron band around her wrist, and his eyes grew darker, though with pain or elation, she wasn't sure which. And there were lines around his lips that hadn't been there before.
"Part of what?" she asked.
"The conspiracy," he answered, in a leaden voice. "You knew what was in the package, yet you agreed to carry it to Greece."
He released her wrist and gripped her chin instead, tilting it upward, his eyes searching hers. Her soul too, for all she knew. Heat scored her cheeks where his fingers lay, reviving past unwanted heat.
"I didn't want to believe you knew," he said in a contemptuous voice.
She wrenched her head away. Somehow his contempt hurt more than the knowledge he wasn't who he pretended to be.
"I'd begun to believe you were incapable of such a thing."
"I'd do it again in an instant." Anger added an edge to her words.
"You'll never do it again to me."
The steely certainty in his voice made her want to lash out at him. "We're lovers now. You said so." She heard the bitterness in her voice and struggled to keep her feelings from her face. She had given him too much already.
"Lovers never lie," she added softly. "I know you're not Andrew Moore. At least, that's not your father's name." The words tumbled from her mouth, but if she didn't speak them quickly, she might not speak them at all.
"You told me your father left when you were young, taking your brother with him." She stared hard into his eyes. "Your father is Andropolous, isn't he?"
Stunned surprise crossed his face.
"You found your father," she accused, "and planned your revenge."
"Revenge?" he repeated.
Even as she'd said it, it sounded ridiculous. The man to whom she'd just made love wasn't capable of revenge, no matter whose son he was. Not if it meant hurting her. And hurting her was the only way he was going to get that package.
Her heartbeat faltered. Perhaps she had simply assumed he cared. What if he hadn't? Her palms turned clammy. Fear trickled up her spine.
It was as if her eyes were open at last, looking at the truth and recoiling.
"You've been following me," she accused, scarcely able to breathe for every breath hurt.
"Yes," he admitted.
"Talking to me, helping me, lending me money." As she ran through the list, she could feel him mentally ticking each item off.
"I talked to you because I wanted to, helped you because you needed it, loaned you money for the same reason." His voice was low and even, not a criminal's voice at all. If this were the movies he'd be shouting and waving a gun.
"You waited and watched. You took your time. You enjoyed yourself." Her last words were as high and thin as a sorcerer's rope.
"I enjoyed being with you." He gave her a faint smile. "Although you aren't the easiest person alive."
"Why didn't you just take the package?" Blood raced through her veins and hit her head. "Why did you have to humiliate me first?"
He took another step toward her. "I did nothing to harm you. You did that yourself."
She could see him as clearly now as when they'd made love, but this time his lips weren't swollen with passion, nor were his eyes bright with desire. His lips were compressed now, his eyes accusing. He seemed larger, stronger, and more powerful than ever.
He held her gaze with his, his eyes forcing her to stay put when reason demanded she bolt up those stairs and never look back.
"Why did you do it?" he demanded.
"It was a job like any other."
"Not quite like any other."
"Travel. Good money." She faced him squarely. "It was hard to turn down."
"I didn't want to believe you'd do anything for money." His lips twisted. "I guess I was wrong."