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“The only thing fragile about me right now is my self-control. You know exactly what’s going to happen if we spend the night in here together!”
She congratulated herself on getting him riled again. “Of course I do. You’ll scowl and insult me. Then you’ll remember who you’re insulting, and you’ll back off.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She bore in on him. “I’m Cornelia Case, the widow of the President of the United States. And you can’t deal with it!”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
He was starting to yell again, which gratified her because there was nothing she wanted more than to go back to that place of yelling and passion and raw, biting emotion. “Things were fine when you believed I was poor little abandoned Nell Kelly, weren’t they?”
“Talk to me when you’re ready to make sense.”
“You could feel superior to poor Nell. But now that you know who I am, you aren’t man enough to handle it!”
Oh, boy . . . she’d done it with that one. Nobody challenged Mathias Jorik’s manhood and got away with it.
His gray eyes gleamed, he shot toward her, and the next thing she knew, she’d hit the mattress.
The bed frame shook as he sprawled next to her, triumph gleaming in those flint-gray eyes. She finally had him where she wanted him, but her victory wasn’t satisfying because she’d used psychological warfare when what she really wanted was to be courted.
He looked down at her, a myriad of emotions going to war on that magnificent battlefield of a face. “I’ve tried to be a gentleman about this . . .”
“A wimp is more like it.”
He reached beneath her top, whipped off the padding, and tossed it to the floor. “I’ve tried to be respectful . . .”
“You probably have rug burns on your knees from all that bowing and scraping.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ve tried to point out the obvious . . .”
“The fact that I threaten you?”
He paused, then he deliberately cupped one hand over her breast and thumbed the nipple. “You do like to live dangerously.”
She turned her face away. “I want you to get off me and go away.”
“Not a chance in the world.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“About five minutes too late.”
She gazed back up at him. “You intend to force me?”
“Damn straight.”
“Oh.” She tried to look bored. “Get it over with, then.”
He chuckled and drew a gentle spiral around her nipple with his thumb. “An army of Secret Service couldn’t rescue you now.”
It was getting harder and harder to remain indifferent. “You cad.”
His tone softened, and the hand at her breast grew even more gentle. “Give it up, Nell. Just give it up, so we can make love the way we both want to.”
“My name is Nealy.” She needed to hear him say it. She needed to make certain he knew who he was making love to.
He took a deep breath. “Nealy.”
