Three Fates

earrings,” she panted. “My money.”
    “For all you know I’m a desperate man. For all you know I could bash you on the head and take a hell of a lot more than a pair of earrings.”
    She sniffed, derisively, then, inspired, tried a new strategy. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. That wide, lush mouth trembled. “Don’t hurt me.”
    “I’m not going to hurt you. What do you take me for? Don’t cry, come on now, darling.” He released her arm to brush a tear away.
    She attacked like a wildcat. Teeth, nails, flying limbs. She caught a glancing blow off his temple, shot an elbow into his ribs. In his struggle to defend himself, he rolled off the bed, with her on top of him.
    Grunting, sweating, stunned with pain, he managed to pin her a second time before he realized she was breathless with laughter.
    “What is it about a few tears that makes guys all gooey?” She grinned up at him. Christ, he was cute. All pissed off and poetical. “Your mouth’s bleeding, champ.”
    “I know it.”
    “I guess that was worth twenty-five pounds. But I’m not settling for fish and chips. I want red meat,” she demanded.
    Then she saw that focused, narrowed look that meant one thing from a man. Her belly muscles quivered in response.
    “Uh-oh,” she murmured.
    “Damn it, Cleo.” He crushed his throbbing, bleeding mouth to hers. She tasted of sin and smelled like a rain-washed garden. Beneath his, her mouth opened, and it took every bit as greedily. Her limbs wrapped around him again, but silkily this time. She arched, center to center in a slow, sinuous invitation.
    He lifted his head and looked down at her. Her hair, all that warm, damp sable, was spread over the thin, burn-scarred carpet. Her lashes were still set with those mock tears. He wanted to devour her, one quick gulp, no matter how it might make his belly ache afterward. He was rock hard and randy.
    And he found himself blocked by the same set of values that had prevented him from striking her.
    “Damn it,” he said again and pushed off her to sit with his back braced against the bed.
    Baffled, she levered onto her elbows. “What’s the matter?”
    “Get dressed, Cleo. I said I wouldn’t hurt you. I won’t use you, either.”
    She sat back up on her heels as she studied him. His eyes were closed, his breath ragged. She had good reason to know he was aroused. But he’d stopped. Stopped, she realized, because despite the toughness, the cool calculation she’d recognized in him, he was decent. Right down to the marrow.
    “You’re the genuine article, aren’t you?”
    He opened his eyes to see her smiling thoughtfully. “What?”
    “Just one question. Did you back off because I’m a currently unemployed stripper?”
    “I backed off because whatever you say about partnerships, I’m responsible for you being here. For you having to run out of Prague and across the continent to England with the clothes on your back. I made the choice to go after these statues, and to take the consequences knowing someone was going to try to stop me, however they could. You didn’t have the choice.”
    “That’s what I thought,” she replied. “That means I’ll just have to take you down again.”
    “Cut it out,” he warned when she slithered like a snake into his lap.
    “You can just lie back and take it.” She ran her tongue over his jaw. “Or you can participate. Up to you, Slick. But either way, I’m having you. Umm, you’re all hot and sweaty.” When he clamped his hands on her wrists, she just continued to use her mouth. “I like it. This’ll go easier on you if you cooperate.”
    She rocked on him, then covered his mouth with hers when he moaned.
    “Touch me.” It had been so long since she’d had a man’s hands on her. Since she’d wanted them on her. “Touch me.”
    In one rough move, he had her on her back again, and his hands were everywhere. The floor was hard as rock, smelled of stale smoke, but they rolled over it as she tugged at his shirt, as she dug her nails into his back.
    She’d wanted this. Even knowing it was stupid, it was pointless, she’d wanted him. Every time she’d felt his gaze linger on her, every night she’d lain awake knowing he was lying awake an arm’s length away, she’d wanted him.
    The good, solid weight of him pressed her into the unyielding floor, those strong, hard hands streaked over her. She bowed up when he dragged her bra down to her waist, moaned in pleasure when his mouth ravaged