She decided she hated him more than ever. Anger helped strengthen her, pushing out her fear. Then his hand went lower, tracking slowly down over her ribs and belly, and apprehension swamped her once more. His fingers pushed between her legs. Her every instinct was to step back, away from that gross parody of a lover's caress, and it took all her willpower just to stand still and take it. She moaned, and shivered. Her tormentor leaned forward, his...