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“The hell you do.”
He stomped to the door, twisted the locks with a snap of motion that had her flinching at the savagery in it. Then before she could evade him he snagg
ed her wrist and pulled her to the stairs that led to the apartment above.
“What the hell—”
“Stop cussin’ at me, Sabella,” he growled, pulling her up the stairs. “We’re finishing this. Here and now.”
“Finishing what?” She jerked at his hold as he pushed her ahead of him and into the apartment she had once shared with Nathan.
She should be screaming, she should be trying to kick him, punch him, not let him drag her, with only minimal struggle, into the large apartment.
A leather duffel bag had been tossed on the couch. There was a box on the cabinet, evidently some groceries. He was moving right in, taking right over, she realized. Here, where she and Nathan had first made love, where he had proposed to her, made love to her that first time. Suddenly, the thought of another man here was intolerable.
“Move right back out.” She turned on him, shaking at the sight of another man’s possessions in Nathan’s space. “Now. Get out now!”
A haze of heat was flooding her. Fury. She told herself it was fury and nothing more.
He snorted at that. “Rory was nice enough to stock me up with groceries while I was working my ass off on those cars downstairs,” he said. “The hell I’m leaving.”
“I don’t want you here. Get out before I call the sheriff.” She was furious. He was staring back at her as though he owned the apartment, the garage, and her. He was staring at her as if she were pushing him too far.
But she wasn’t backing off. She wanted him out of her life now, before it was too late.
“And you think I’m going to let the sheriff run me off?” he asked her, his ruined voice sending shivers up her spine.
Sabella stopped and stared back at him. He looked dangerous, the tension surrounding him was dangerous, so why wasn’t she frightened? Where had she managed to lose all the common sense she had once possessed?
“Why are you here?” She stared back at him, the anger and disbelief coalescing inside her. “What the hell makes you think you can just walk into my life and take over like this?”
He turned away from her a second, obviously hiding something or fighting to control his temper, she wasn’t certain which. When he turned back to her, she took an instinctive step away from him.
“You’re running from yourself, Sabella. Why?”
In a sudden moment of insight, Sabella knew he wasn’t going anywhere, and his expression assured her that she couldn’t force it. Rory had hired him, and he owned half of the business. He had as much right to loan out the apartment as she did. And he could hire anyone he wanted to hire.
She and Nathan had agreed to that before they ever married. Should anything ever happen to him, then half of the business that he had built would go to Rory, because he knew their father would never leave the other man anything.
She was stuck with Noah until he decided on his own that it was time for him to leave, and that was all there was to it.
“I’m not running from anything except a man that’s taking too damned much for granted. You’re not a Malone, Mr. Blake. You’re nothing here and you never will be.” She turned and took the first step to the door. One step, and in the next second she found herself against the door, firmly, if gently, held in place by the big, hard body suddenly pressing her into it.
Her breath caught. She felt surrounded, suddenly hot and weak. His head was beside hers, his cheek rubbing against her hair, his hands holding her in place as the feel of his erection pressed into her lower back.
“Why are you so frightened of this?” he whispered then. “Or are you just too frightened to live again?”
“Live for you?” she scoffed. “You don’t measure a tenth of what my husband was, and I didn’t need him to live. I sure as hell don’t need you to do it.”
“And does Sykes make you feel alive?” he asked her. “Does he tell you how perfect you are? Touch you like you’ll break and whisper roses and candy?” He sneered. “Is that really what you need, Sabella?”
“You bastard!” She fought him.
She twisted around, her knee slamming up, only to find Noah lifting her, parting her thighs until the thick, hard length of his erection was pressed against her and his lips were slamming down over hers.
The rasp of his beard and mustache was unfamiliar. His lips were hard, hungry. They took hers, he didn’t ask, he didn’t hesitate. As though he knew a need inside her that she didn’t know herself.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was ravenous. It was laced with such hunger and elemental lust that it struck a flame to some hidden spark inside her own body.
