‘Have I hurt you?’ he asks softly.

I blink in amazement. ‘No,’ I whisper. ‘Of course not.’

‘Then tell me why you’re crying.’

‘I’m crying because everything has been just beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for more.’

He trails his fingertips down my cheek. ‘It will be all right. You’ll see. I’ll make it good for us.’

I want to burst into tears, but I don’t. I nod.

‘Will you trust me?’

I nod again.

‘I’ll sort it out. I promise.’

‘Okay. I need to go to the bathroom,’ I say.

He moves and I get up. I pick up my dress and underwear from the floor and go into the bathroom. I close the door and lean against it. I thought I was going to stay all night. I thought I could do it, but I can’t. My heart is breaking. I can’t stay here a moment longer. My legs give way and my body slides down to the floor.

‘Tasha,’ Noah calls from outside.

I press the heel of my hand against my teeth. ‘Just give me a minute,’ I say.

I hear him walk away.

I stand up and dress quickly. My hands shake so much I can hardly pull the zipper up. I run my finger through my hair then, squaring my shoulders, go out into the room. He is sitting on the bed, and he has pulled on his sweatpants.

‘What’s up?’ he asks, his face expressionless.

I exhale the breath I’m holding. ‘I should go home.’

‘Yeah?’

I take a step towards him and shrug. ‘And I won’t be coming back again.’

His eyes narrow. ‘Why not?’ he asks calmly.

I swallow hard. ‘This was meant to be a temporary arrangement, after all. My father is back and really it’s time things went back to the way they were. It was only meant to be one night, but you’re very good in bed and it was fun so …’ I trail away.

He stands up and starts walking towards me, and I don’t think, I just run. I get as far as the door before he catches me and slams me up against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to shock.

‘Why are you running?’ he asks curiously. There is something eerily calm about him.

‘Will you please let go of me?’

‘After you’ve answered my question.’

‘Let go of me first.’

‘Just answer the question, Tasha,’ he sighs.

‘Look, it’s finished. We’ve both had our fun and now I’m going back to Oliver. Don’t make this difficult.’

‘You’re going back to Jarsdale?’ He says each word slowly.

‘He is my fiancé, and you knew that.’

He smiles nastily. I’ve never seen him smile at me like that ever. ‘That’s a funny thing to say while you got more of my DNA inside you than an episode of CSI.’

‘Don’t make me dislike you.’

His eyes widen. ‘Dislike? How about I make you hate me?’

In a flash he has stuck his hand under my skirt and ripped my panties off my body.

I slap him hard. It just happens. My hand rises up, flies in the air, connecting with his cheek. And it isn’t one of those girl slaps either. It cracks in the air, makes his head jerk, and leaves my handprint on his cheek.

His eyes glitter as he smiles slowly. ‘Your father shouldn’t have bothered with a paternity test. You’re his daughter all right.’

My knees start trembling, and my mouth opens with shock. He is like a stranger. So cruel. He’s never spoken to me like that. I have never seen this side of him. Just because he has always been so gentle, kind, and considerate I had the false illusion that there isn’t another side to him. Or rather, I chose to ignore the side of him that has hurt, killed, and maimed. Perhaps I don’t know him at all. He and my father are from the same world, after all.

‘Noah,’ I cry, my voice hoarse with hurt and horror at the beast I have unleashed. My shaking hands reach out for him.

Suddenly his mouth is on mine, crushing, rough, possessive, demanding, taking. He forces his tongue into my mouth, hooks my tongue with it and, pulling it into his own, sucks it hard. I whimper as his leg parts my thighs, and his hand moves upwards to find my slick entrance. His fingers slide in, and he begins to pump them in and out of me. I’m so wet his fingers make a squelching sound. He lifts his head.

‘Started to hate me yet?’ he asks.

‘I hate you.’ The words tremble in the air between us.

‘Who should I believe? Your body is telling me a different story,’ he snarls.

He lifts me in his arms and carries me to his bed. The covers feel cold against my heated skin.

‘What are you going to do?’ I ask stupidly.

He laughs a little. ‘Little innocent Tasha,’ he taunts.

He pushes down his sweatpants and he is hard and erect. He gets on the bed.

‘You are mine,’ he growls harshly as he thrusts deep into me. I groan and he puts his fingers slick with my juices into my mouth, making me suck them. My fingers grasp the cool sheet under me as he quickens his speed. He stares at me, and unable to bear his gaze, I close my eyes.

‘Open your eyes,’ he orders sternly.

My eyes fly open.

‘Tell me you want me to stop.’

‘I … I … ah …’

‘Tell me you want me to fuck you.’

‘I want you to … ah … fuck you …. me, fuck me.’

‘Tell me your pussy belongs to me.’

‘My pussy belongs to you,’ I cry.

‘I didn’t hear that.’

‘My pussy belongs to you,’ I scream uncontrollably as the waves of an incredible orgasm engulfs me. It rips through my very core like a hurricane. It drains me completely before it is over. I stare up at my gorgeous man as his body contracts and arches, and he goes off to meet his own climax.

He pulls out and cum gushes out of me.

‘I have to go,’ I whisper.

‘I know. Let me call Sam.’

He gets off the bed and walks out of the room.

I go into the bathroom, clean myself, and go downstairs. He is standing by the drinks cabinet. There is a glass in his hand. I have a sense of déjà vu. I go into the room and stand in the middle of it.

‘I’m sorry I said all those horrible things,’ I admit.

He looks at me sadly. ‘Don’t apologize, Tasha. It was nothing. Between us there is nothing to be sorry for.’

‘But I said such nasty things and made you so angry.’

‘Do you really believe that just some silly words could change anything for me? I would die for you, Tasha Evanoff.’

I run sobbing into his arms. He holds me tight. ‘My poor, poor Tasha,’ he croons. He pulls me away from him slightly and strokes my hair. ‘Don’t come to see me anymore, OK? Leave it all to me. Don’t do a single thing.’

I feel the pain of his words like a knife in my chest, but I nod.

He kisses my wet eyelids one by one. ‘I promise you’ll be mine, or I’ll die fucking trying.’

Like a fool I start sobbing again. I hardly ever cried before I met him. Now I’m like some sort of broken tap that can’t stop gushing.

‘Shhh … my darling.’

‘I don’t want you to die,’ I bawl.

‘We all have to die. It’s how we die that counts. I’m not afraid to die for you.’

‘My father—’

‘I’m not afraid of your father. I may have a card up my sleeve.’

I stop crying and stare at him. ‘Really? What?’

He smiles. ‘You seriously think I’m gonna tell you?’

‘Give me a clue what it’s about?’

‘No.’

Then the taxi comes and he walks me to the street. At the open door of the cab our fingers linger. In the light of the streetlamps his face looks distant and sad. Both of us know this could be the last time. I kiss him on his cheek. His skin is warm and bristly. I inhale the smell of him one last time and turn away blindly. The waterworks have started again.