The erotic shock of feeling his fingers in her wet self caused her to get away from him.

'I must have been out if my mind', She said, ' I can't.....'

She made for the light switch but Bryan caught up with her before she could reach it.

'Don't run away from it now, Sharon', he said in a smoky voice, 'Not now that we've got this far. His arms went round her from behind, pulling her back against his half naked body and she shuddered as their flesh touched, skin to skin, the roughness of his hair, the masculinity of bone and muscle imposing themselves, making her conscious of her own femininity.

'I should never have let you touch me', she said, as much to herself as to him, hating herself because she felt the undeniable rise of desire again.

'You're not a virgin?' he murmured, kissing her neck, pressing himself against her.

'What's that got to do with it? I don't just sleep with anyone....'

'I never supposed you did. I wouldn't want you if I thought that you had', he said and his hands covered her breasts, making her tremble with passion.

'But why...? she cried out, trying to think clearly,to work out what she really felt.

'Why do I want you?', he sighed, his long naked thighs pushing softly against her, his hands wandering, exploring, making her so weak that she was shaking violently. 'You're beautiful. The minute I saw you, I knew I had to have you'.

She had felt the same, she knew that at that instant. When they were jammed in that revolving door together, she had felt his body against hers and a heat had begun deep inside her, a heat which had been growing ever since and which just the sight of him could start into life.

She was torn between an aching need and fear.

'I...I haven't taken any precautions', she muttered.

'Don't worry, I'll take care of that', he said at once and spun her round to face him, held her lightly on the hips and drawing her closer.

She gave a groan, stood on tiptoe and kissed him passionately, her arms going round his neck, her body yielding in boneless surrender.

Bryan lifted her off her feet on to the bed. He didn't give her another chance to change her mind. While she was still catching her breath, he entered her and she arched to take him, a wordless primitive cry coming from her throat.

For months desire had been driving her towards this instant.

She had fought it, pretended it wasn't happening to her but it had been too strong and she had been helpless against it.

She didn't know even now if she was in love or obsessed but all she knew was that she couldn't fight the way she felt anymore..

Last night when they had walked along the top of the Spanish Steps, that warm autumn night and she had seen the young lovers in that shop doorway, that had been the moment she knew that she wanted Bryan like that.

She had seen those two kissing, their bodies straining against each other and suddenly she had felt heat sweet through her, her mouth had gone dry and Bryan had looked at her with the same craving in his eyes.

She had wanted to go to bed with him then. If they had been up here in her room, they would have made love.

She had known it last night, she knew it now. If she hadn't slept with him now, she would have sooner or later, because she couldn't stop thinking about it, day and night. The beat of them at erotic desire drummed in her blood, in her ears and she ached to touch him, to feel his hair under her hands, to hold his body as he moved in her, with her.

She cried out, her nails digging into his back and Bryan groaned, head flung back in passionate pleasure.

His skin was red hot, his breathing tortured, so was hers. She was caught up in a vortex of a whirlpool, irresistibly engulfed in a spiralling pleasure. She was deaf, dumb and blind to everything else in this world. Entirely taken over by desire, she had shed all inhibitions, forgotten where they were, what room, in what city, in what country.

There was only this bed, her body twisting and shuddering with his body driving into her.

She said his name, pleading, moaning. It seemed to be taking forever to reach the intense dark heart of that feeling, she was going out of her mind and she pushed her face into his warm bare shoulders, kissed his perspering skin, tasted the salt of his body on her tongue and grazed him with her teeth, bit him as the frenzy mounted and then the arching tension broke and she gave a final long moaning cry and began to fall down, down out of all control.

It was like dying, her heart pounding, her lungs tortured, her limbs trembling violently.

She heard Bryan saying her name, his voice unrecognizable, gasping in the same unbelievable ferocity and then there was silence and she lay like someone who had drowned, her hands flung out on either side, her eyes closed, her lips apart, breathing in dragging anguish.

For minutes on end, they just lay there, his body heavy on her, his head on her breast, the sweat running between them.

Then Bryan slowly slid off and Kay beside her, his breathing gradually slowing.

Sharon was too exhausted to move. She couldn't even keep her eyes open.

He got up and went into her bathroom. She winced as the light from the bathroom stabbed into the bedroom, she put her arm across her face and turned on her side, her back to the light.

He came back and got into bed again, by then she was half asleep and only stirred lightly as she felt his cooler flesh touch her when he curved his body round hers. He pulled a sheet over them both but she hardly noticed.

She was light as air, empty, drained. Moments later, she was deeply asleep.

When she woke in the morning, he was gone.

When Sharon woke the next morning, Bryan was gone and she might almost have thought that she had dreamt the night before except that as she sat up in the bed, she saw a note a note lying on the pillow next to her and recognized his bold and distinctive handwriting.

The message was brief, almost curt. 'Breakfast downstairs at seven forty five. B'.

That was all it said. He hadn't even said good morning nor even signed with his name, just with an impersonal initial.

There was no indication whatoever of the intimacy they had shared the previous night.

She ran a fingerprint over the writing,as though she were touching him and felt her inside dissolve completely.

She thought of Bryan and images of the memorable night they had ran through her mind and she trembled.

She wished that he had stayed behind so that they could have had another session. She knew that if he had still been there, she would have thrown herself at him again. At least she would have been the one to initiate it this time but he must have been very considerate of her exhausted state, else he would have woken her and had her again and again if that was what he wanted because she knew that she would have wanted that and very much too.

And then the phone rang shrilly, making her jump. She looked at it as though it was a snake that was getting ready to bite her. Then she suddenly felt that it just could be him ringing to say to her all the things that he hadn't out in the mote.

She blushed and lifting the receiver, huskily said, ' Hello?'

'Goid morning, this is your operator, it is seven fifteen, ma'am'.

'Oh... thank you....' Sharon pt the receiver down. She hadn't asked for a wake-up call, Bryan must have booked it.

Well that was thoughtful of him and no doubt he had gone back to his room very early so that nobody would see him leaving hers which was very considerate. Everyone on this floor was at the conference and some of them knew her. Gossips could spread like wild fire at these events.

She could remember at other conferences listening to the gleeful talk of who was sleeping with whom. These things does happen when people were away from home and went in for long long dinners with wine flowing freely.

But her and Bryan, well that was different, she thought in anguish. That hadn't been a one night stand at the conference, something to be forgotten easily or as soon as possible. Or... had it?

She sat very still on the edge of the bed staring thoughtfully at that brief, cold, impersonal note, devoid of all emotion. It was hardly a love letter, was it?'

He could have said something about last night or at least sign his name with something like, ' Love Bryan's. It could most definitely not have compromised him, now could it?

Had last night meant anything to him other than an easy conquest? He hadn't said that he loved her and hadn't made any promises either nor any propositions. One moment they had been quarrelling at her door and the next, on the floor making love in a frenzy.

Her face burned as she remembered the intensity of the love and passion they had shared on the floor, on the bed, the intensity had been immensely gratifying, liberating and edifying.

Stricken, she screwed the note up and threw it a Ross the room. What had she done? She had never behaved that way in her life before, had never been promiscuous and this was a lousy time to start. She wished she could turn back the hands of time, go back in time, wipe off those moments in his arms.

She was twenty six, and not inexperienced She had had a couple of serious relationships. One that had lasted for over a year before breaking up by mutual consent. They had both realised that it was not working and had become routine and it was better to go their separate ways with good memories than resentment and the other serious relationship she had had been so painful that she had not wanted to get involved with anyone else for a long, long time.

But no other man had made her feel the way she had last night. She hadn't even suspected that such incredible sensuality existed.

It had been like flying. She had flung herself recklessly from a mountain peak and found to her astonished gratitude that she had wings and she had been so sure that he felt the same.

She shut her eyes remembering his passion. That hadn't been faked but maybe she had misunderstood - great sex didn't need emotion behind it. Had she forgotten that some men just liked sex and could walk away afterwards without looking back no matter how good it had been? She had even read somewhere that it was easy for a woman to give herself to a man because she was emotionally involved and not just because she felt like having sex. So to a woman who was not a commercial sex worker, emotion came before sex but that was not the case with the man because he could have sex without being involved emotionally with the woman. So maybe that was exactly what had happened last night and she was judging his passion based on her own emotions.

But was Bryan really like that? Oh God, how was she going to face him this morning? The thought of breakfast made her want to throw up. Eating breakfast with him, having to look at him, remembering and knowing that he remembered.

She recalled her first impressions of him. The good looks cloaked ruthless determination. He had killer eyes, a mind like a computer. It made him good at his job but a poor risk as a lover. That was the man who took you last night, she thought with a pang of stricken shame.

As soon as he sensed that for some reason you were vulnerable to him, he took what he could and walked away.

How had he known that he could do that? How had she betrayed herself? Pale, she felt her stomach heaving. A hand over her mouth, she ran into the bathroom and was violently sick.

She sat on the floor sobbing for minutes on end, a cold wet towel against her feverish face.

After sitting on the floor for so long and crying her heart out, she realised that she couldn't stay there all day. She had to go down to breakfast because he was capable of coming up to get her and she didn't want that- she didn't want him walking back into her bedroom. The very idea wanted to make her want to throw up again.

She showered and put on a dark grey pleated skirt, a lemon shirt, a grey waist coat over that. She combed her auburn hair into an elegant French pleat and did her make up. Clipped neat silver earrings on her ears and the considered her reflection.

She wanted to look businesslike, cool and remote.

Bryan Ferdinand wasn't going to find any weakness in her today, never again in fact.

She had lied to herself for so long, telling herself that she hated him while she was in fact carrying a torch for him. Last night, the torch had set her on fire but it had burnt out now, thankfully, all that was left was blackened earth and emptiness.

Now she really did hate Bryan Ferdinand.She would be armoured against him from now on.

She collected her conference briefcase, the notes, the folders, the printed material they kept being handed and never had time to read.

Head up, she took a deep breath and went down to the dinning room. She paused in the door swallowing.

Yes, he was already there, sipping orange juice, turning the pages of a copy of the Financial Times, no doubt, yesterday's paper. Today's issue would not have reached Rome yet.

This morning, he looked grimly formidable in a dark suit, the jacket open to show his tight fitting waistcoat, immaculate white shirt and dark blue silk tie. His face was closely shaken, unshadowed, his black hair, sleek. He looked like he had had a great night's sleep, damn him, unlike her.

He must be as cold as ice. Last night she had been utterly convinced that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She watched as he put his half finished glass of juice down, his long fingers steady. Hard to believe that those same hands had taken her to heaven last night.

She flinched from the memory of his lovemaking, bit her lip and tasted the salt of her own blood in her mouth. Damn him. Damn him.

He closed the newspaper, glanced up, caught sight if her, his eyes narrowing, searching her face. What was he looking for? A sign of how much he had hurt her? She showed him a shuttered face, saw his brows flick together as if he was disappointed. If he thought that he was having any more fun at his expense, he was sadly mistaken, she thought grimly, walking towards him.

He rise to his feet. 'Good morning', he came round to hold her chair for her and she sat down, very conscious of him as he pushed her chair inwards again, unable to hide the flinch she gave as his hands brushed her shoulder.

Bryan gave her another if those piercing looks, his black eyes chilly. 'Did you sleep well last night?'

The bite in his tone didn't escape her. She wanted to hit him, yell at him but she fought to keep her face as icy as his own.

'Yes, thank you. Did you?'

Before he could answer, the waiter arrived and she ordered coffee, orange juice, prunes with natural yoghurt and toast.

When the waiter had gone, she asked Bryan stiffly, 'What did you want to talk about anyway?'

'Your opinion on the conference discussion, obviously, or of what you have heard so far', he coolly said as though they were mere acquitances. You were making notes all the time in the conference hall, I noticed.

He always notices everything, she thought. 'For David', she said aloud.

His mouth twisted. 'Of course'. His eyes stabbed at her across the table suddenly. 'Did you make notes last night, for David?'

White, she whispered, 'Shut up. Damn you. Shut up!'

The waiter came back with her orders and poured her a large cup of Fresh coffee,offered cream or hot milk.

'Black, thank you', she said hoarsely, spooning the creamy white yoghurt over her prunes, feeling her stomach churn at the very idea of eating them, but forcing herself to do so.

She had to seem normal, calm, unworried at all costs. She mustn't let him know how much damage he had done to her.

The waiter refilled Bryan's cup, 'I'll bring your toast now'.

When he walked away, Bryan said in his remote, cool voice, 'May I read your notes or are they for David's eyes only?'

Sharon glanced at him secretly through her lowered lashes, hating him. 'You mean, is there anything about you in them?No, there isn't and there won't be, don't worry. I won't be telling David any private anecdotes'.

'I'm sure you won't', he said, his voice stinging, 'Hasn't it occured to you yet that I might?'

Her face grew taut, white as bone. She watched him with bitter contempt. 'Was that all it was all about? Was that your game plan? You got me into bed so that you could tell David and wreck my....'

'Chance with him?' he drawled, mouth twisting.

'Reputation!', she said. 'I know how ambitious you are, I think that you see me as some sort of threat to your plans. If I married David, I'd stand in your way, wouldn't I? But I didn't think that even you would sink to seducing me just so that you could run off and tell David about it!'

That got home. Dark red filled his face and he looked at her savagely. 'And I wouldn't! I am not the type to kiss and tell, you needn't worry'.

'Am I supposed to say thank you now?' she asked icily.

There was a barbed silence, the Bryan clipped out, 'What about your conference notes? Can I see them or not?'

'Oh, why not?' she said wearily, 'But they are in shorthand'.

'That's no trouble. I can read shorthand'.

'I might have know you could', she said bitterly. 'You are an expert at everything, aren't you?' Including seducing women. He was very good at that. He must have had a lot of practice to be such an expert.

His eyes glittered, but he answered flatly. 'I did a business course before I went to the university. Shorthand, typing,computers. I've found it very useful.

She tried to match his level tone. 'I use a rather scribbled shorthand of my own though. Wouldn't you rather wait until the notes have been typed?'

'Not unless this is your roundabout way of refusing to let me see them.

'Oh, very well', she said, knowing that he left her no choice, got out her notepad and gave it to him.

'I'll read it some time today and let you have it back before we leave', he said putting it into his own briefcase.

The waiter came back with their toast. Sharon took hers with black cherry jam and pretended to eat it while Bryan ate his with marmalade.

They talked about the conference as they finished their breakfast. Then Bryan looked at his watch.

'The car must be here by now, we'd better go'.