Chapter 18. In for a Penny

Proserpina

"Jazz?" He frowned uncomprehendingly, and at that moment I knew that he had no idea who Jazz was.

As the enormity of the accusation I had levelled at him sank in, his eyes glittered in fury, and I made to move back, but he had me in a vice-like hold. When he spoke, his voice radiated a barely checked fury as he spoke in a low, menacing growl that left me quaking in fear.

"No one has ever accused me of needing a pimp to satisfy my urges, little vixen."

I swallowed fearfully, though I met his flintlike gaze bravely as he went on,

"Watch what you say."

And before I could react, he lowered his head. Pinning me to the balustrade, his hands holding me captive, he ground his mouth on mine again, angrily, determined to hurt me. I put out my hands and ended up clinging to him.

When he finally raised his head, I stared at him, heavy-lidded, panting, my head spinning. I could feel the hardness of his erection pressing agains