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I could have him. If I wanted to, I could seduce this man who probably only wanted me because I belonged to his brother. Did they fight over toys as children, just as they would fight over a woman now? Each wanting to possess the thing he cannot have?
And could I—would I—dare use Vasile to escape the clutches of a marriage I neither asked for nor wanted?
I could. I could do it. I could use my body to that end. My father even said I had that womanly power.
Seduce the brother, lose my virginity, become a damaged, unwanted prize. Let them fight each other if they wanted to while I flee. Surely, if he no longer wanted me, it would be Petre’s choice and then possibly the debt forgiven as my father would still be more than willing to hand me over.
“I don’t want to marry him,” I repeated, steeling myself. Was I really about to do this? “I don’t want him.”
I inched closer, the inflection in my last word lingering between us. Casting aside doubt, I reached out and lightly touched his arm.
And that was all it took.
He let out a low growl of desire and pulled me into him, his massive hand on the small of my back. His careless stubble grazed my cheek, and I felt the heat of his breath against my skin. I swallowed hard and felt my lips quiver.
“I…” His jaw worked without sound for a moment, before he shook his head, looking deep into my eyes, into my soul. “I can’t do it. I won’t…” For a moment, I thought he was talking about family loyalty, struggling with the idea of betraying his brother, but I was wrong. “I won’t leave you here for my fucking brother,” he said, and finished his thought with a kiss.
And what a kiss it was. I was stunned at first, stunned at his harshness and confidence.
The room spun and I hung on to his broad shoulders. Even through his thick coat, his biceps tightened with tension as he held me close.
I was helpless to the moan that escaped my lips as he swept my tongue aside with his, keeping me wanting more and more, deeper and deeper. The more I kissed him back the more tender he became, until my heart ached in my chest and I had his shirt gripped in both my hands.
He pulled away first, but still stayed close so that we were nose to nose. He gently caressed my cheek with his thumb. His arm around my waist tightened, and so too did his grip on my cheek, so that his fingers hooked behind my jaw, and his first finger pressed into a wonderful sensitive spot just below my ear.
“We’re leaving,” he said, and all at once scooped me up and hoisted me off the floor and over his shoulder.
“No, wait!” I cried, the air forced from my lungs as he slung me like a sack of potatoes. This wasn’t what I wanted. Was it? “Put me down!”
“No.”
“Put me down!” I snarled, beating his back.
He gripped my butt hard and spun toward the door.
“Let me go or I’ll scream,” I said. “And every girl in this place will be trying to claw your eyes out.”
His grip tightened and he curled his arm over my body, carrying me toward the door like an unwilling bride.
“You say a fucking word,” he said, “and I’ll have you over my knee for a spanking so fierce you’ll wish you kept your mouth shut.”
Oh lord. A rush of wetness spilled from between my legs, thinking of his hand on my bare behind.
Smacking. Stinging.
Stop.
Somehow, he connected with the drumbeat of desire his words drew from me, because he responded with that low growl again which only made the situation worse.
I was angry at my body for betraying my better sense. Sexy though he may be, I wasn’t going anywhere with him. That was definitely not a part of my plan to escape a hateful marriage to his brother. Where he planned to take me, I had no idea, and I wasn’t about to find out. It was time to fight. With everything I had.
Fight I did. I fought him with all my might, wriggling out of his hold just enough to loop my arm around his muscular neck. I’d never actually completed a carotid hold until my opponent blacked out, but if ever there was a time, this was it. The strong thrumming pulse of his jugular vein pattered away against the inside of my forearm.
I should scream. It would end this right now. Yet, I did not.
Why did I not?
“Fuck,” he gasped, clawing at my arm with his hands.
Making someone lose consciousness isn’t a feat of strength. Though I was half his size, I knew what I was doing. I tightened a little more, feeling both intoxicatingly powerful and damned glad I paid such close attention during all my grappling arts classes.
