Megan went, shrugging. Lissa glanced at Luc through her lowered lashes. 'Shall I pour it?'

‘Please,’ he said curtly, taking up a position near the elegant fireplace, his arm lying along the mantelshelf, his eyes fixed on the polished toe of his own shoe. She poured the coffee nervously and looked at him hesitantly. 'Do you want it there?'

He looked up as though startled to remember that she was present. 'No,' he murmured, coming over to take the cup from her. He sat down beside her on the sofa and she tensed. Luc did not speak, sipping his coffee with a bent head. Swallowing, Lissa asked: 'Have you lived here long?'

He put down his cup half finished and glanced at her.

'A good many years. Do you like the house?'

'It's very beautiful.' But overwhelming, she thought secretly. And rather empty. The whole house had a

bland patina of grace which left one with the impression that it was a show place rather than a home.

Luc moved restlessly. 'Would you like a brandy with that?' He got up, went to the decanters and poured himself one, ignoring Lissa's polite little refusal. When he pressed a glass into her hand she looked up to protest and met those cool blue eyes, changing her mind. She anxiously tasted the brandy, shivering at the taste of it.

Luc drank his rapidly. The movement with which he put down the glass made her shoot him a wary look. He turned and took her barely touched glass, placing it beside his own.

'It's no good, Lissa,' he said tersely. 'I can't let you go.'

She stiffened and got up hurriedly. Luc was on his feet too at once, catching at her shoulder as she turned away. 'Where do you think you're going?'

'I'm not listening to any more…' she began, and Luc's face became a mask of furious emotion.

'That's where you're wrong! You'll listen if I have to use force to make you.'

'Force is all you seem to understand,' she flung shakily. 'Just because you helped me get away from Chris you seem to think I belong to you.'

His face changed again, the blue eyes gleaming between those dark lashes, the dangerous anger vanishing. 'I'm glad you seem to be getting the idea at last, he murmured silkily, and her colour rose in a hot wash

'I don't belong to anyone but myself!'

'Don't you?' Luc's long fingers slid caressingly up her arm. He smiled at her tauntingly, amusement in his eyes. Lissa's heart was thudding in her throat and her mouth was dry. The hand at her shoulder gave a deft twist and to her horror she found herself pulled forward into Luc's arms before she could halt the movement.

Holding her, Luc sank back, on to the sofa and she pushed at his wide shoulder as her face fell against him. He coolly lifted her chin with one hand and bent his head towards her. Fever ran through her veins like fire. The deep warmth of his mouth silenced all her protests. She sank into a languorous weakness, her arms stealing round his neck after a moment, giving herself up to the sensual delight he was making her feel.

When he lifted his head again she was still clinging, trembling from head to foot, her lips parted and aching from the long possession of his mouth.

Reluctantly, her eyes flicked open to meet the intent, brooding stare of his, and she felt her colour deepen further as she knew he was aware of the passion he had managed to arouse in her.

Harshly, he said, 'You're too young. I'm out of my mind, but I can't let you go.'

'I won't be your mistress!' Misery made her voice shake.

'Then will you be my wife?' he asked, his mouth twisting as though he found it hard to ask.

She stared disbelievingly, her eyes very wide.

'Don't look at me like that,' he muttered. 'I know I'm far too old for you. It's been driving me crazy ever since you told me how old you were. I told myself not to be a fool. I'm almost old enough to be your father.

But it was too late for me from the first minute we met on that beach.'

Her breathing shallow and irregular, her heart thudding, she whispered to him: 'Are you saying you love me?'

He sighed deeply, his eyes on her disbelieving face. 'That's what I'm saying.'

Lissa looked down, trying to take in what he had said. Staring at his hand as it lay against her waist, she asked in a low voice: 'If you really loved me why did you try to make me your mistress?'

Luc made a rough sound under his breath. 'I doubt if you'd understand if I told you. That's why I hesitated before I asked you to marry me. When you're thirty, Lissa, I'll be almost fifty. What sort of bargain am I for a girl of your age?'

She thought about that, her brows drawn, before looking up. 'You're saying that you thought it was one thing to have a brief affair with a girl of my age and another thing to actually marry her?'

His skin took on a dark red, the blue eyes hard. 'I suppose that's just what I did think. If I thought at all -and I wasn't doing much thinking whenever you were around. Lissa, try to understand-the minute I saw you I wanted you and as time went by I wanted you more and more. I was possessed by a driving necessity. However coolly I considered the actual facts, the minute I was with you all my calm intentions went out of the window and I was desperate to make love to you.'

She bit her lower lip, looking away from the urgent desire in his eyes. 'And when you consider the actual facts now, Luc, what do you really see? The same problem?'

He hesitated and she looked back at him levelly. Luc closed his eyes with a tormented twist of his mouth. 'Yes,' he muttered. 'You're too young and I'd be a swine if I married you. You ought to marry someone of your own age, someone suitable.' His voice had gone harsh and raw with an emotion she could feel in every fibre.

She watched him, feeling oddly aware and adult. Luc's cool strength had always outmarched her own, but the cynical sophistication which informed his hard features had dissolved now in a feeling which he could not hide.

'I'll start looking around for someone,' she said, and saw his lids open and the jealous, violent flash of the blue eyes.

'You damned well won't,' he bit out with his teeth snapping together. His arms tightened., hauling her closer, and he pushed his face into her ruffled hair. 'You'll marry me, Lissa, however insane it may be- because if you go away, I couldn't stand it.' " She didn't struggle, but she didn't respond. Lying in his arms, she said slowly: 'You still aren't thinking of me, though, are you, Luc? All you're thinking about is yourself, what you need.'

'If I think about what you need I'll have to let you go,' he said unevenly. 'It was for your sake that I hesitated to ask you to marry me. My God, are you so blind? Can't you see that it's you who'll suffer from having a husband so much older than yourself? I'm a gambler, Lissa, but even I hesitate at the odds against us. Do you think I don't realise that it's almost a certainty that one day you'll meet someone closer to your own age and want me to let you go?' He drew a long, fierce breath, the possessive grip hurting her as he held her even closer. 'And how could I refuse in the circumstances? It will kill me. But I'll have to agree.'

Lissa slid her arms round his neck, trembling, profoundly moved by the pain in his voice. 'No,' she whispered.

'I've been going round in circles for days thinking about it,' Luc said in a low voice. 'I was faced with an unenviable choice. Either I let you go now and went through hell or I married you and faced that hell some time in the future.'

'I love you,' she cried out in wild reaction to his anguished statement. 'Luc darling, I love you.' It was the first time she had allowed herself to admit it, and the stammered words made Luc tense, turning his face towards her in a blind movement which ended as their mouths met and clung hotly.

His hands gripped convulsively. He was so taut with a feverish desire that she felt his muscles clenching under her hands, his whole body coiled in barely restrained hunger.