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She nodded, even if being this close to him only made her conflicting feelings worse. She was both apprehensive and appreciative about the warmth of his body that seeped through her clothes.
He selected a wedge of orange from the platter on the table and brought it to her lips. “Open.”
“I know how to use a fork.”
“Of course you do.” He teased her lips with the fruit. “But it’s my job to take care of you.”
Her reply was bitter. “Because you fucked me?”
“Made love to you. As I said, aftercare.”
She leaned away. “I don’t need your aftercare.”
“Maybe, but you need to eat.”
They hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous day. Her stomach grumbled. Unable to argue that, she grudgingly parted her lips. He slipped the fruit inside and fixed his gaze on her mouth, waiting patiently for her to chew and swallow.
Cupping her nape, he lowered his head and caught her off-guard when he traced her lips with his tongue. “Orange tastes good on you. Let’s see about pear.”
Her body heated, a traitorous reaction to his seductive game. From the way his lips quirked, he knew what effect he had on her. Determined not to give him more satisfaction, she thought about icebergs and glaciers as he offered her a slice of pear. She tried to take it, but he held it beyond her reach, shaking his head with a disapproving, albeit amused, smile.
If she wanted the fruit, she had no choice but to eat from his hand. Angry, she took a small bite. Damn him for feeding her like a pet. The fruit was sweet though, so she took another bite, and another, until there was nothing left and he reached for a slice of apple.
He fed her a few more slices of fruit before lifting a silver lid on a plate to reveal a fluffy omelet with melted cheese dripping from the side. He cut off a small bite with a fork and fed her until half of the omelet was gone and she couldn’t eat another morsel. He finished off what was left, keeping her on his lap.
When he finally wiped his mouth on a napkin and dropped it on the table, she tried to get off, but he only tightened his arm around her waist.
“Keep still,” he breathed in her ear. “You’re getting me excited.”
She went still. Indeed, he was growing hard under her backside. This wasn’t about tasting her blood. This was about her. No matter how unfeeling he was or that they were born enemies, the attraction was there, even stronger now that she knew how good it felt to make love to him. When he touched her, he rendered her powerless. What made it worse was that he knew exactly how far his power stretched. He’d known even before forcing her into marriage he was going to make love to her on their wedding night. He knew he’d win, or else he wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble with the flowers and candles. True to his word, he’d gone all out to make sure their first cognizant time was memorable.
For fear of worsening the situation she didn’t move. She hadn’t meant to turn him on. She sat quietly when he poured two cups of coffee. In all honesty, it was rather warm in his lap with the blanket draped over her shoulders.
“Have you eaten enough?” he asked almost tenderly.
Her manners dictated she said, “Yes, thank you.”
He nudged her temple with his nose. “See? If we both make an effort we can get on just fine.”
She stiffened at that. “We shouldn’t have to make an effort.”
“All relationships take effort.”
“This isn’t a relationship,” she bit out.
His face darkened as he stared at her for a beat before saying, “The ring on our finger says otherwise.”
“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s nothing but three bands of gold.”
“That serves as a symbol.”
“Of your fidelity?”
“Like it or not, you’re tied to me and only me now.” He added, “For life.”
Angry tears gathered behind her eyes. “I hate you.”
“But you love what I do to your body.”
“You seduced me.”
His smile turned wide. “Admit it, sweetness, you wanted everything I gave.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh, I think I do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let me.”
“My willpower is weak.”
“Is that so?” He dragged his gaze over her face. “I think you’re lying. I think you’re strong. I think,” he trailed a thumb over her thigh, “if you really wanted to you would’ve told me to stop.” He arched a brow. “I gave you the choice, didn’t I?”
How dared he throw that weakness back into her face? A gentleman never rubbed a lady’s nose in her lack of control. Then again, Joss had never been a gentleman. He’d never given her a choice, not really, not when he laid his hands on her.
His arrogant smile stretched until she felt like slapping it from his face. He thought it was that easy? Fine. She had something of her own to prove. Shrugging the blanket from her shoulders, she slid from his lap.
