"His name is Luther and I can do whatever the hell I want," she blazed. "I already made it plain to you that there are no expectations where we're concerned. You go your way and I go mine. What we do in the bedroom has nothing to do with our lives. I've done the relationship thing, and it didn't work out and besides-" she laughed hoarsely.
"You're a fricking prince. We're poles apart. Not to mention the fact that you're a womanizer. I hate men like you. I've been with a man like you and I ended up getting hurt. Now, I'm taking charge of my life and doing whatever I please. If you don't like those terms, you can go to one of those hundreds of women who I'm sure would be willing to do anything you want them to. I'm not one of them."
Her impassioned speech left her exhausted.
"And you will not have a problem if I see other women?"
"Why should I?" she asked tautly. "I don't own you and you don't own me."
"And after what happened between us last night and this morning, the passion between us, the intensity, the heat, you will not have a problem if I do all of it to another woman."
Ignoring the strange leap of her heart at his words, she lifted her chin.
"No."
"And you want to continue seeing this Luther person."
"Yes. That's what I said."
"And if I want us to be exclusive?"
The hope that flared inside her chest was ruthlessly crushed. She had been a fool once; she wasn't going to be one again. That part of her life was over.
"Then that's your problem."
"I think it's more of a 'we' problem." He was angry, furious actually. For the first time in his life, he was practically begging a woman to go steady with him and the offer was being tossed back in his face. And by one who wasn't really his type. If it wasn't so pathetic, it would be laughable. He was Prince Tomas, royalty. His family had been around for thousands of years. He had royal blood flowing through his veins.
Women pursued him. He had money and looks. He could buy anything he wanted, be anywhere. And now this American woman, this employee was refusing his offer, his most generous offer, the privilege of being with him. It was bloody humiliating.
"You want sex then-" he said savagely. "Then I suppose I should deliver. You want a stud, well, lady, I'm here to please."
"What-"
"Shut up!" he blazed. Pushing her back, he covered her body with his. As angry as he was with her, he could not seem to stop wanting her. He should be able to simply walk away, but he was unable to do so. Sliding into her, he gripped her hair, his face a mask of fury.
"Stop this!"
"Or what?" he taunted. He was getting angrier by the minute and rapidly losing control. "You'll stop having sex with me?"
"Why are you so angry?" She tried to shove at him, but he would not budge. It only made him drive himself deeper inside her. Her traitorous body arched in response as passion flooded her entire being.
"Why am I so angry?" He had seen her unmistakable response, and it gave him a dark thrill. "You want to juggle two men, querida?" He moved then, slowly, stroking her until she was becoming mindless with desire. "Be my guest. But know this-" He yanked her head upwards and ground his mouth on hers.
"Know this-" he whispered, breath mingling with hers erotically and sending shivers all over her body. "I know which buttons to touch." He reached between them, wedging his hand between their bodies and stroking the swollen flesh. She erupted violently, crying out his name and clinging to him as the climax slammed into her.
"See?" he whispered thickly, his lips moving over hers. "Your body cannot lie."
