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She went to the dressing room. Tugging on the handle of her case, she dragged it behind her, only to stop short when he filled the doorway.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I assume this charade is over, since you stink of her perfume, your hair’s all over the place and your jaw is covered in peach lipstick—seriously, though, that “lipstick on the collar” thing is so last-century soap opera. Anyway, I’m guessing either your talk was wildly successful or she refused to take you up on your role as saviour. Judging from your scowl I’m guessing it was the latter.’

‘Arabella—’

‘By the way, thanks for making me look like a fool tonight. You told me you were trying to get her father to drop his matchmaking. You never said anything about the daughter being head over heels in love with you.’

His scowl deepened. ‘Carla has had a crush on me since she was a teenager. It’s nothing.’

‘Oh, believe me, it’s something. A very big something. Especially since you two dated.’

He looked momentarily disconcerted, then he shrugged. ‘I took her out a few times when she lived in London a few years ago. So what?’

She laughed. ‘Only a man like you would ask that ridiculous question.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

She sighed. ‘Never mind, Draco.’ She moved forward, expecting him to get out of her way. He didn’t. ‘Oh, right. I guess you want this back.’ Letting go of her case, she tugged the ring off and held it out to him.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he growled, his voice jagged ice chips.

‘Come on, you can’t surely want to prolong this farce! You’re wearing another woman’s lipstick on your skin, for heaven’s sake. Stay. Leave. Do whatever you want. But here’s where I step off this crazy train.’

She stepped forward, intending to shove the ring in his pocket. He caught her wrist, trapping it against his chest in a tight grip. Underneath her fist, his heart slammed hard and fierce.

‘Put the ring back on,’ he sliced at her.

She jerked at her hand. He held on tight.

‘God, what do you want, Draco?’ she railed, knowing she was inches away from losing control.

‘You, Arabella. I want you.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘EVER SINCE I walked in on you performing that ridiculous yoga pose, I’ve thought of little else but having you beneath me in my bed. Did I not make that perfectly clear this morning?’

Rebel clawed at the strands of sanity blissfully fleeing her mind. ‘Again. The lipstick on your face tells a very different story.’

With a thick curse, Draco released her, but kicked the door shut. ‘Stay here. If you walk out that door I’ll make you regret it.’

‘Oh...charming.’

He stalked to his case and flung it open. Extracting a fresh pair of trousers and a clean shirt, he slammed it shut.

Rebel stared in disbelief as he jerked his tuxedo jacket off, followed by the dress shirt and trousers. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of him in his black briefs, a picture of ripped, bristling, male perfection, using the shirt balled in his fist to swipe at the lipstick on his face. Stunning was a woefully inadequate description of Draco Angelis’ male stature, his perfectly proportioned body overlaid with smooth dark olive skin that just begged to be touched. Worshipped.

From somewhere she regained the use of her vocal cords. ‘Umm... Draco—’

He flung the shirt away. ‘Shut your mouth and listen for once in your life. I didn’t kiss Carla. She kissed me.’

Rebel let her rolling eyes speak for her.

‘And before you call it a convenient excuse, no, I didn’t see it coming.’

‘So you spent the last hour fighting her off?’

He glared pure fire at her. ‘I spent the last hour talking to her. This—’ he flicked impatient fingers at his face ‘—happened as I was leaving her.’

‘Okay, if you say so.’

He glared harder. ‘I do say so,’ he ground out.

Her stomach quivered. ‘And?’

He pulled his clean clothes on, then spiked his fingers through his hair. The silky strands settled, but not by much. He still wore a tumbled-out-of-bed look that was at once heart-throbbingly perfect and deliciously indecent. Snapping up the suitcase, he crossed to her and took her bag. ‘She knows what she stands to lose if she carries on using Tyson Blackwell as her trainer. The ball is now in her court. I just hope she doesn’t take too long to make her stand.’

A harrowing bleakness threaded the edge in his voice. Her hand on the door, Rebel glanced back at him. ‘You tried. Isn’t that enough?’

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