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“What made you think that?”
“Harvard. I’ve never met anyone who went there and read manga.”
He runs a hand through his hair, which looks just-got-out-of-bed sexy messy. It makes me wonder if it looks that way because someone else might have had their hands in it. The thought irritates me because it feels as incongruent as oil being poured over ice cream.
“I want my own room,” I demand, deciding to cut to the chase before we begin talking about things that don’t matter, as if we’re friends.
A slow smile slides across his lips and he inclines his head, his gaze dropping to my breasts which, of course, I fear he can see straight through my pajama top.
There’s no way he can, but my poor tired mind is running wild and hyped up on my annoyance at being here with him.
“No.”
My lips part and I gaze back at him as if he just spoke another language.
“What do you mean no? I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as you. Do you know how weird this is for me?” And where have you been all day?
I want to ask him that but I hold back. I don’t want to look like I care. Because I don’t.
As if I didn’t just speak Hunter turns and walks away, loosening his tie. He takes it off and continues toward the bed.
I follow, stopping before him when he sits on the edge to take off his shoes and socks.
“Did you hear me?” I know he heard me loud and clear, but this is him being the same kind of asshole he was the other day when he dismissed Ryan from his sight.
“Yeah. Did you hear me?” He quirks a hard brow and shoves his shoes to the side with the socks inside.
“Yes, but I still want my own room. Hunter, you have God knows how many rooms in this house and you stick me in here with you?”
He flicks open the top button on his shirt, exposing a peek of tanned flesh and muscle.
With his keen gaze trained on me he squares his shoulders and stands, towering over me when he steps into my personal space.
“We’re not having separate bedrooms.” He steps forward and him being so close feels like it’s too much again, so I step back.
“Why?” My voice is child small, revealing my discomfort.
“We’re getting married in a few weeks.” He takes another step forward and I step back, a lump clogging my throat due to his overbearing presence. “You’re going to be my wife. What difference does it make if I have you in my bed then or now?”
The way he says that, in that low, cool tone, which seems to be designed to speak to my imagination sends a shiver of heat through me. I can’t help but imagine what he might do to me in his bed.
My breath catches as an unwanted vision springs to my mind and I have to force a measured breath to clear the constriction in my lungs. He seems to notice and smiles.
“That was a question, Bellissima. Answer it.” He moves closer and my final step backward has me crashing into the wall.
I didn’t even realize I was standing so close or what direction I’d gone in when we started this uncoordinated dance of power.
Placing his hands on the wall on either side of me, he blocks me in as he stares me down. “Well?”
“You said it. We’re getting married in a few weeks. I want my own space until then.”
Hunter releases a sigh and his warm breath tickles my skin. “My answer is still no, and we’re not talking about this again.”
“But—”
He stops me from speaking with one thick finger placed to my lips and a shake of his head.
“You heard me. Now, it’s been a long, long day. I’m crazy tired. All I have is strength for one of two things. Sleeping or fucking you. You get to choose, Bellissima. Which is it going to be?”
