"Just be quiet." When he lifted his hands, she took a step back, but he grabbed her hair, fingers sinking into the wavy strands. "I went tearing after you." He backed her towards the desk, body pressing on hers.
He had walked into the dining room and as crowded as it had been, he had had eyes only for her. The dimples in her cheeks as she laughed at whatever that clown was saying to her. He had identified the strange emotion raging inside him. Desire warring with jealousy. He had seen the man's eyes veering to her chest, the swell of her breasts over the top of her dress andhe had almost marched over there to rearrange his face. It had frightened him. The intensity and strangeness of it all.
"You infuriate me. I should stay the bloody hell away from you. But I can't." His voice thickened. "I told myself that this is not a good idea. I should leave you alone."
"Please do. Let go of me."
"I can't." He sounded bewildered and frustrated. His hands wrapped around her neck, tugging at her hair to lift her face towards his.
"Don't you dare!" She managed before he crushed his lips to hers. She struggled, telling herself that she did not want this. That the heat pouring through her was from anger. That she was angry and that she hated him.
But she was lying to herself.
"Kiss me back," he groaned. "You know you want to. Kiss me back, damn you."
She kept her lips clamped together and almost cried out in a panic when he changed tactics. His lips softened, the tip ofhis tongue soothing her bottom lip. She was losing the battle and they both knew it. When he nipped gently on the flesh, she gasped, giving him access to her mouth. As soon as that happened, he plunged his tongue in, tasting the intoxicating flavor of the wine she had imbibed at supper. He was drunk on her and it was not the vintage. It was purely her. One hand came around her waist as he brought her flush against his rigid arousal. He swallowed her moans, his tongue exploring her mouth.
He wanted her like he had never wanted another living soul before. His blood was boiling, his heart racing.
His hand roamed up and down her back restlessly, fingers clenching in the back of her dress as he took the kiss deeper and longer. She was addictive, completely taking him over. He wanted her. Right now, he wanted her in his bed, here on the sofa or on the carpet.
Lifting his head, he trailed kisses along her cheek and then her neck, before going back to claim her lips.
Reason surfaced at long last. She surfaced from the wonderful haze of desire that was wrapped around her. She felt weak and disoriented, her body raging out of control. She pushed at him, but he wouldn't budge. He held her tight, his breathing harsh, his body pulsing with need.
"We want each other," he whispered harshly. "You cannot deny what is happening between us."
"You better damn well believe that's exactly what I'm going to do." She pushed at him again. "I'm seeing someone!"
"Who?"
"That's none of your damn business. I'm seeing someone..."
"That jackass from the gallery?" he scoffed.
Her eyes blazed. "He might not be a prince or have half your looks, but he's a decent guy and I happen to like him. I hate you."
"You want me."
"I want a private plane, but that's beside the point. Now please let go of me."
"I want you in my bed," he growled.
"Yes." She nodded. "And you're used to getting what you want, because you're shallow and entitled." She shoved and this time he let her go. "Stay away from me."
