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Even they wanted children.
“And what do I give you in return?” I elevated my chin, pursing my lips.
“You eat,” he bit out.
I could do that, I thought grimly.
“You play the dutiful wife role.”
He took another step.
I instinctively pressed myself harder against his drawers, but there was no escape and nowhere else to go.
In two steps, he was going to be flush against me just like Angelo had been last night, and I’d have to meet the inferno of his body and the frost of his eyes.
He lifted the tips of a ruined, maroon-hued tie, eating the entire distance between us in one, purposeful stride, “I was planning a trip to DC, but seeing as your father is up to all sorts of trouble, I decided to stay in town. That means that on Friday, we’ll have guests from DC. You will dress impeccably, you will cut the engagement tales bullshit in favor of a proper, decent version, and you will entertain them flawlessly as you were brought up to do. After dinner, you will play the piano for them, and after that, you will retire to the west wing with me, seeing as they will be spending the night in the east wing.”
“Sleeping in your bed?” I barked out a laugh.
Wasn’t that convenient.
“You’ll sleep in the next room.” His body was now hovering over mine, and he was touching me without really touching me.
He poured heat my own curves drank thirstily, and even though I hated him, I didn’t want him to step away.
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. I wanted to refuse, but also knew that by agreeing to his deal, I’d have the chance to actually live a decent life.
But I couldn’t surrender to him willingly and completely.
Not so fast.
He laid down his rules, his expectations, and his price for his messed-up version of my freedom. We were striking a verbal deal, and the need to put a clause or two of my own was primal.
“I have one condition,” I said.
He curved one inquisitive eyebrow, the tip of the tie in his hand gliding its way to my neck.
I raised the shears in a knee-jerk reaction, ready to stab his black heart if he touched me inappropriately. But not only did he not recoil, he actually awarded me with that smile I’d been wondering about.
He had dimples.
Two.
The right one deeper than the left.
The tie fluttered across my shoulder blade, making my nipples pucker inside my bra, and I prayed to God it was padded enough for him not to notice.
I clenched from the inside, my stomach tumbling and dipping. A delicious ache spread in my womb like warm goo.
“Speak now, or forever hold your peace, Nemesis.” His lips fluttered so close to mine for a split second, I wouldn’t object if he kissed me.
Jesus.
What was wrong with my body?
I loathed him.
But I also craved him. Terribly.
