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“There will be more kisses,” Dante said with alarming confidence.
“Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all, but we both know what will happen when we have to live together in the same house and share a bed.”
She blinked, temporarily shocked. “Excuse me? Share a bed? We never said?—”
“How do you plan to convince people our marriage is real if we’re not sleeping in the same bed?”
“Don’t you have your staff sign NDAs?”
“Of course, but there’s no guarantee they will adhere to those agreements. We must be smart. Besides, after that kiss, I don’t think we’ll have any problem rekindling the passion between us, do you? We have something to look forward to. We’ll both enjoy it, like we used to.” His gaze dipped to the bodice of her dress, and her traitorous nipples tightened.
“You wish.”
Dante stepped closer and studied her with a slight head tilt and narrowed eyes. “You pretend you don’t want me, but we both know you do. Your body betrays you,querida. You kissed me like a woman who enjoyed the contact. If I place my hand between your legs right now, will you be wet for me?”
Annabelle drew in a sharp breath. “Go to hell.”
A self-satisfied smirk teased his lips and made his dimples appear. “I want you. I can admit I do, though I am disgusted with myself. You may have faked your love for me when we were married, but you never faked your desire, and I can’t wait to satisfy?—”
Annabelle stepped back and glared at him. “If you entered into this agreement thinking you’d be allowed back into my bed, you’re in for a huge disappointment. The only thing you can expect to receive from our marriage is contact with Nolson Hilderbrandt. That’s it.”
He laughed. “You don’t like the truth, eh?”
“What I don’t like is you talking to me as if you know my mind. I will never have sex with you again. Why can’t you accept that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t believe you. We will be married for a year, and neither of us will be able to sleep with other people. We both have desires. Needs. You will change your mind.”
This son of a…
Annabelle slammed her hands on her hips. “No, I won’t. Furthermore, we will not share a bed. That’s not part of the agreement. Since you agree I’m the one running this farce of a marriage, make sure you follow these instructions. I want my own bedroom. Talk to your staff or do whatever you need to. We have to share a home, but I willnotshare a bed with you.”
He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, his eyes becoming hooded as his gaze took yet another leisurely stroll down her body. His review was obscenely thorough. “You will cry out my name the way you did when we were married before. I used to worry everyone in the building could hear your screams. Do you remember?”
Of course she remembered. The laughter and camaraderie had fizzled, but their physical need for each other had remained unmatched. Dante was probably an even more skilled lover than he was before. In all these years, no other man had made her feel the way he did, but she’d die before admitting as much to him.
With a haughty lift to her chin, Annabelle responded to the question. “No, I don’t.”
He smiled again, flashing perfect teeth at her. “Mentirosa.”
Translation:Liar.
“See yourself out.”
“As you wish,mi reina.” With a mocking bow and a wicked laugh, Dante strolled out of the bedroom.
11
Annabelle returned from lunch with her father, her belly full and carrying a container of leftovers. The next quarterly board meeting was taking place six weeks after her wedding. He hadn’t given any indication that his position about Albert had changed, but she was hopeful.
She placed the food in her office refrigerator and picked up one of the framed photos from her desk. A picture of her and Clifton Jr. The last one they’d taken together before his untimely death. Because they had different mothers, he was a blond-haired replica of their father. In the photo, he and Annabelle were beside the pool, and her mother had taken the shot. They were both grinning and flashing the peace sign.
Annabelle smiled faintly, her heart squeezing tight with the pain of missing him. Nineteen years and the twinge of pain never failed to resurrect at thoughts of him. Both he and her mother had been taken too soon.
“I’m going to succeed, Cliffy, like you would have. Just watch. You’ll be proud of me,” Annabelle whispered.
She replaced the frame on her desk and went to one of the file cabinets. Pretty soon, there wouldn’t be a need for the cabinet. She had convinced her father to go paperless and had started the transition herself. When she became CEO, she was going to institute a paperless policy for the entire company.
