Page 91 of Into Her Fantasies


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I gulped.

He watched.

Tupulai. Why did I feel like he meant it in the original form of the word and not as an endearment?

Trouble.

No. Ridiculous. I hadn’t done anything to earn it.

But then he paced directly toward me. At the last minute, stepped around me.

And as he kept going, ducking off the main path between the thick ferns, juniper, and oleander, clasped my hand tight against his.

“Whoa.” I jerked stumbled to keep up with his wide strides. “Where the hell are we—”

“Did you receive my texts?”

Tight huff. “You know I did.”

“And what did they say?”

I tried twisting my hand free. No way was his iron grip letting that happen. “I’m not four,” I snapped.

He barked a laugh. “Thank fuck.”

“What the hell is your point?” I finally yanked hard enough to at least slow him. “Did you come all the way out here just to rub it in that you finally proposed to Ambyr?”

He stopped.

We both skidded hard.

Until he wheeled, pinning me between his unyielding body and a tall cypress trunk.

We were a good twenty feet deeper into the grove, invisible to anyone on the main path, and his new move made that even more true. With his arms stretched out, grabbing a pair of low-lying branches over my head, I was trapped in a Cimarron-style cage.

“You truly thought I was with Ambyr?”

“Well, what the hell else was I supposed to—”

“I was not with Ambyr.”

“Okay, okay.” I squirmed. Couldn’t help it. The reawakened bursts of energy through my body, just because he was close enough to smell, to touch, to absorb once more, were…incredible. “But do you blame me for—”

“I was not with Ambyr.”

“Shit. All right.”

He pressed forward. Surrounded everything I could see, only with his startling beauty and his potent ire. “You believe me.”

Definitely not a question.

I breathed deep then quietly murmured, “Yes.”

“Then say it.”

My teeth locked. The balls he possessed, going all demigod dictator on me—

Dammit.

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