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‘I’m sorry...were you serious?’
If anything, she succeeded in angering him more. Although he barely moved, his overpowering presence filled the room with an oppressive aura that strangled the breath in her lungs. ‘Did you not guess that I wasn’t the joking type?’
‘Yes, but...why on earth do you need a fake fiancée? And why me?’ she tagged on, stunned that the absurd questions were falling from her lips.
Again his mouth twisted and he shook his head, as if he was having trouble accepting the very subject he’d initiated.
‘The why will be explained after you accept my proposal. The why you is because you happen to be in the position of being in my debt, literally. And because your reputation fits what I need.’
She couldn’t stop the lance of hurt that stabbed her. ‘My reputation?’ she asked, even though she knew she was inviting further hurt.
‘You have a loose relationship with the truth, and you steal. Why not add pretence to your repertoire?’
Rebel jerked away from him. Or she tried to. Draco held on easily, taking firmer hold of her shoulders. Despite the sensations shivering through her at that contact, she forced herself to speak. ‘Because not even a million pounds and a dozen acting awards could make me pull off pretending to like you. Let me go.’
Grey eyes gleamed dangerously. ‘I’m not a man you want to cross, Arabella. So I suggest you give serious thought to giving me what I want.’
‘And I suggest you give serious thought to what you’re asking me to do. In what universe would anyone believe we’re even remotely attracted to one another, let alone engaged to be married?’
He didn’t answer her immediately. Instead his hold loosened until his fingers merely brushed her skin. Slowly, they left her shoulders and trailed down her arms. Light. Barely whispering. Electrifying. Rebel had thought his forceful grip was bad enough, but the light caress of Draco’s fingers along her skin started fires in places that stunned and alarmed her.
The pads of his fingers grazed the inside of her wrists. Rebel couldn’t have stopped the wicked shiver that raced through her any more than she could’ve stopped breathing. Despite telling herself to step away, to stop this disturbing assault on her senses, she remained rooted to the spot as he traced her racing pulse.
A half step closer and one scant inch separated them. This close, she could see the tiny gold flecks in his eyes that added an extra layer of dynamism to Draco Angelis she wouldn’t have thought impossible. His rich scent blanketed her with dark, dangerous promise as the music she’d stupidly thought would clear her thoughts added to the thick, sensual pool she was drowning in.
He stared down at her, eyes piercingly direct, reading every emotion she desperately tried to hide. Then he lowered his head.
Her breath lodged in her lungs as, for the second time that day, the belief that Draco Angelis was about to kiss her shook her. Wild anticipation roared through her, shocking her with its intensity. Surely she couldn’t want this?
The brief, superficial liaisons she’d had in the past had always left her cold. To the extent that no man had been allowed to go beyond a few kisses, despite the tabloids’ wild speculations about her sexual antics. She’d been content being a virgin with no thought as to what her first sexual encounter would be like simply because it hadn’t been a concern.
Now with every atom in her body screaming at the mere thought of being kissed by this man, the reality of her sexual innocence hovered like a time bomb above her head.
Would he think her some sort of freak? Would he laugh his head off?
Pull yourself together!
What on earth did it matter what Draco Angelis thought? He would never place high enough in her life to ever find out. Just as she would never allow this kiss to happen...
About to step away, Rebel found herself captive once more when he shackled her wrists. The mouth tantalisingly close to hers drifted past. His breath warmed her jaw, then the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe.
‘You don’t think we have chemistry?’
‘N-no,’ she forced out.
‘Then why is your pulse jumping? Why does your breath catch every time I swipe my fingers across your skin?’ he husked in her ear. ‘You’ve been staring at my mouth for the last minute and licking yours in anticipation of my kiss. Do you want me to kiss you, Arabella?’
‘No. No!’ This time when she jerked out of his hold, he let her go. Striding to the other side of the room, she crossed her arms over her chest, keenly aware of the tightness in her breasts and the telltale pearls of her nipples. ‘I don’t know where you’re going with this—’
