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Sunny realized he had trapped her in a corner and now tried to bluff her way out. “I never threatened Don’s masculinity.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. How could I?”
“Just by being you. Smart, talented, self-confident, self-reliant you. Some men feel threatened by women like you. Apparently Don’s one of them. He needed a woman who would nurse his ego, tell him how strong and wonderful he is.”
“I did,” Sunny said with desperation. To this day she couldn’t understand why Don had gone to Gretchen’s bed. What had Gretchen given him that she’d failed to provide? What need had Gretchen fulfilled that she hadn’t?
Ty said, “But you are just as strong and wonderful as he is. More so. Jenkins couldn’t handle it.” He closed his arms around her. “I think he’s a damn fool for letting you go. And I think you’re a damn fool for still imagining yourself in love with him.”
She tried to twist out of his embrace, but it was inescapable. He seemed to exert very little effort, but his arms were powerful. As was his lazy smile. It obliterated Don’s image from her memory. The man she loved was obscured by this one, whom she hated. Ty Beaumont always pushed the right buttons, whether to arouse her sexually or to entice her into baring her soul. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, or why she’d been so culpable, but it had happened and she would never forgive him for it.
Unaware of her thoughts, Ty kept up his lulling monologue. “Don Jenkins isn’t a match for you, Sunny. The marriage would have ended unhappily sooner or later anyway. By doing what you did you only spared yourself greater unhappiness.”
“How dare you stand there and presume to know what would make me happy.”
“I know, all right. You need a man who’ll stand up to you. One who enjoys your spiciness and isn’t intimidated by it. One who matches your passion. You need someone who’ll make love to you, and I’m talking hard, Sunny. And often.”
“And I suppose you think you fit the bill.”
He moved against her suggestively. “You tell me.”
“I’ll tell you only one thing,” she said heatedly. “I love Don.”
“Prove it. Resist me. Resist this.”
He backed her against a support beam of the porch’s roof and branded a fiery kiss onto her lips. Vocal protests welled up inside her mouth, but they were stoppered by his demanding kiss. She tried to move her head aside, to dodge his persuasive lips, but they followed hers relentlessly.
She pushed against his shoulders with the heels of her hands, but he only leaned closer, sandwiching her between him and the smooth cypress wood.
“All this heat,” he murmured against her arched neck, “and Jenkins wanted to extinguish it.”
“And you don’t?”
He brushed his lips back and forth across hers as he shook his head no. “Not at all, Sunny. I want to make you burn hotter. I want to be in the very heart of your fire.”
She gasped, and when she did, he sent his tongue deep into her mouth. It maneuvered with limber skill. She fought the tremulousness that crept into her limbs, draining them of strength. She denied the sensations that slowly rivered through her body, as thick and hot and bubbly as warm molasses.
He unbuttoned her blouse and tugged the tail of it from the waistband of her skirt. “No,” she protested weakly.
“Why not?”
“Because I hate you.”
“Love isn’t doing you any good,” he said, moving his hands over her aching breasts. “Maybe you should try hate.”
“Stop,” she groaned.
“Before I’ve had a taste of you?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to leave you alone, right?”
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t.”
