Heiress's Defiance by Lynn Raye Harris Page A

mechanism had always been to be the good girl. Because how could her parents fail to love the good girl? If she were good enough, she’d thought, maybe her mother would come back.
    She took a swallow of her wine. Oh, she knew what a naive thought that was now. But as a girl, it had been very defining. Her entire life had revolved around that thought for so long that it was ingrained in her.
    “Not every Chatsfield needs attention,” she said softly. “Perhaps I’m one who does not. And I can accept compliments. I just prefer them to have meaning rather than be a means to an end.”
    “And who says my compliment has no meaning? You? I assure you that you are very beautiful indeed. I want you, Lucilla. I think you know this.”
    “How do I know you aren’t just saying it?” Because he was a spider on a web, a puppet master dangling the strings—he’d managed everyone thus far. What if he was managing her, too? Managing her with the things she needed most—companionship and belonging.
    “I thought I proved that already.”
    She snorted. “An erection? All you need do is close your eyes and think of rubber-dress girl and you’re there. I’m not so stupid I don’t get that trick.”
    He looked incredulous. And then he reached for her hand, threaded his fingers in hers and raised it to press his lips to the skin on the inside of her wrist. A shiver ricocheted through her. “Believe me when I tell you that the only reason I might think of her when I’m with you is to
calm
a raging erection. Not the other way around.”
    “You are such a liar,” she breathed.
    His eyes were intense. “I dare you to test me, Lucilla. Take me to your bedroom and test me.”
    Her heart skipped wildly. She couldn’t answer that challenge. “Tell me you didn’t sleep with her. I bet you can’t.”
    He shook his head. “No, I can’t.”
    “I knew it.”
    “And what has this to do with you and me and right now?”
    Another bolt of lightning flashed outside the window and the lights flickered. She extracted her hand. “I won’t be a conquest. I see no point in it.”
    He stabbed another bite of lamb and chewed it. “Really? This from the woman who’s been having lots and lots of sex?”
    Her color rose. “I don’t need you if I’m getting off with other men, do I?”
    “I’m better than they are, Lucilla.”
    “You are
so
arrogant.”
    “No, just truthful. If I were your lover, you wouldn’t be getting excited by another man the way you are with me.” He grinned. “These lovers are inadequate.”
    Her ears were hot. But the wine was working its magic, making her feel languid and relaxed for the first time in days. Outside, the rain came down hard. Inside, she felt warmand cozy and even a tiny bit content. “Maybe I’m just insatiable.”
    He dropped his fork and groaned. “Don’t put that thought in my head. It makes my imagination run wild.”
    She wanted to ask what kinds of things he was imagining. But that was a very bad idea. Lucilla took another sip of wine. “If you were anyone else …”
    “And who is the liar now, Lucilla?” His voice was soft and mocking—but not in a mean way. In a way that made her insides curl and twist.
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “I think you do.” He leaned forward and caressed her cheek. “For all your talk, you are a workaholic. You work late, you go home alone every night and you come in early every day. You aren’t having sex with anyone, insatiably or otherwise.”
    She wanted to deny it. But there was really no point. “It’s not polite to call a girl a liar.”
    “No? I didn’t think politeness was one of my strong points, anyway.”
    “It definitely isn’t. Besides, if you knew I wasn’t having sex with anyone, why did you take such pains to tell me how much better you are than my imaginary lovers?”
    He laughed, and the warmth of the sound slid down her spine. “Did you think I wouldpass up an opportunity to tell you how good I could make you