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"What?" I gasp.
"Then you’ll beg me to take your pussy and your ass and your mouth all in one go on our wedding night."
The blood drains from my face. My stomach flip flops. The wine glass I’m holding tips, and I place it back on the table. Jerk. Does he really think I can be bought? Does he think I’ll give in to his demands so easily? Does he think I’m an idiot with a pretty face, who’ll be so overcome by his money, I’ll let him have me every way he wants?
A pulse thuds between my legs. My thighs quiver. My breasts feel too heavy for my body and my nipples tighten. How dare he take me for granted. How dare I find his filthy words a turn on. How dare my body betray me again where he’s concerned.
"You know what?" I lean forward. "I have no choice but to…"
"To?" His smile widens.
"To refuse you, you smug, conceited, horrible man." I jump up to my feet, throw the remainder of my wine in his face, then grab my bag and pivot so fast, I knock my chair over. I race past the startled diners toward the exit.There, almost there.A breath of relief escapes me, then a heavy hand descends on my shoulder. I yelp as I’m turned around and slammed into his very hard chest. Tremors of heat ignite all over my skin. Lust pools low in my belly. I tip up my chin and his blue gaze is ablaze with the anger of a thousand exploding suns. I gasp. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I’ve never seen him this overcome by emotion. His features wear a confluence of surprise and relief and something else. Something smoldering, something so intense that it slices me to my core. My guts churn. My heart overturns in my chest. He twists my arm around me, notches his knuckle under my chin and glares into my eyes.
"Say that again," he growls.
"What?"
"Say you refuse my offer. Say you don’t want my money."
"I don’t want your money, you self-absorbed, egotistical, full-of-yourself, pompous—"
He closes his mouth over mine. He absorbs the rest of my words, and sucks on my lips, and kisses me with such fierceness that my heart seems to be pulled up into my throat. I forget to breathe. My knees turn to jelly. I slump against him, but he doesn’t let go. He absorbs what little oxygen I have left in my lungs, and flickers of darkness spark behind my eyes. He tears his mouth away from mine, and I draw in a shuddering breath. My lungs inflate and my head spins. He bends, picks me up, and throws me over his shoulder.
"What the—"
My hair falls over my eyes so I can’t see what’s happening. There’s a flurry of activity around us as if the diners have suddenly noticed us. I hear him rumble something, the vibrations shivering up my thighs and coiling in my belly. The heavy weight of his arm across the back of my thighs pulses a steady heat up my body. I shove the hair from out of my face and am presented with his perfectly-sculpted, superbly-tight ass. I bounce against his hard back as he stalks out of the door. There are more raised voices in Italian, his answering response, which I don’t catch, then we are out of the restaurant. The cool air assails me and goosebumps pepper my skin. It cuts the jumble of thoughts in my head and I begin to struggle.
"Let me go."
"No," he snaps.
He prowls toward what I assume is the curb, and the screech of brakes being applied reaches me.
Oh, no. I am not getting into the car with him.
I wriggle in his grasp. "I’m not leaving with you."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I’m not." I dig my knee into his stomach. His very hard, unforgiving stomach. "Let me down," I snarl.
"Not a chance."
I join my fingers and bring my fists down into his back. His breathing doesn’t even change. A sudden burn of heat flashes across my butt. I jump.What the—?
"Did you just spank me?"
"Just getting started, baby."
Another exchange of voices in Italian, then he lowers me into my seat. I instantly charge forward, but he shoves his head into mine and kisses me again. The kiss is hard and firm and has this sense of assurance threaded into it that indicates he knows what he's doing. It holds the promise he intends to not stop until he’s had his way with me. It has an erotic need underlying it, a desperation, a vulnerability I’ve seen in his eyes before, which I only now taste. An unguarded sentimentality that makes me blink.
He leans back and holds my gaze and must read my confusion for he nods. "I won’t hurt you..." His lips twist, and once more, he’s the mean, dominant alphahole carrying me off to his lair. The confident, forcefulCapowho always gets his way. "Not unless you want me to."
I swallow.
"Does the thought of what I could do to your body turn you on, Angel?"
Yes.
