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She padded out of the bedroom and toward the glass doors that were slightly ajar to the deck outside, where the salty ocean breeze filtered through the house and the sun was high in the sky.
Not that she blamed Mahindar for his virility. She hadn’t exactly been prim and proper between the sheets with him, either. She’d been wanton and had reveled in everything he’d shown her, her body betraying her as one orgasm after another had rolled through her.
That she’d given every impression she enjoyed being his wife was undeniable now. But though she’d physically surrendered to him, she’d fight him mentally every step of the way. She huffed out a sardonic breath. With any luck he’d grow sick of her willfulness and send her back to England.
She bit into her bottom lip. It’d take a miracle for him to do that. He’d want his wife by his side so that his people saw a united front. He’d want her to raise their children and be a dutiful wife.
But he was crazy to think she wanted that, too. She wanted her freedom back, wanted to do as she pleased with her life, which included making use of her education and having a career of her own. She’d dreamed of becoming an editor who found the next bestselling hit, the nugget of gold in the mountain of scripts that would touch countless readers.
She stepped out onto the deck and crossed her arms, a bitter twist to her lips. That her husband had taken all that away from her made her resent and despise him with a passion that was as strong as their sexual chemistry.
A brisk breeze pushed some hair over her face and she pushed the light sable length back with a hand, uncovering her eyes to see her husband wading from out of the sea. She gulped and her nipples pebbled. Despite her twisted emotions there was no denying he was hot, an Adonis who could have been sculpted by one of the finest artists to have ever lived on Earth.
For a minute she allowed her eyes to roam freely over him. Wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and powerful thighs, and tight abs that even from this distance showcased a tight musculature that any athlete would be proud of. That his fitness likely stemmed from his stamina in the bedroom wasn’t something she wanted to acknowledge.
Her mouth dried as her gaze slipped along the thin trail of dark hair that started just above his navel and led down to his groin. Hot damn.His cock was large even after stepping out of icy-cold ocean water.
She sensed his stare on her and she jerked her eyes up to his smirking, knowing gaze. He lifted a hand and she half-lifted hers in return, before snatching it back to her side. She wasn’t his obedient puppet. She never would be! Spinning away, she marched back inside the house.
She was never going to be a gullible bride who believed in happily ever after. Theirs was no fairytale. She’d never love Mahindar and that was the one choice he’d never manipulate, unlike their arranged marriage.
She rubbed her goose pimpled arms and stepped into the kitchen, where she spied a half-full cup of coffee. Perhaps a caffeine hit would brighten her mood. She flicked on the kettle just as Mahindar’s tread sounded on the stairs. She turned as he stepped through the glass door.
His eyes flared. “You look…delectable.”
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, refusing to be flattered or surrender to an up-close-and-personal ofhisspectacular nakedness. “It seemed pointless in getting dressed.”
He cocked a brow. “And why is that?”
“You want to impregnate me. I’m making it easier for you.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I want to make love to you. I don’t care if we don’t have children for the next few years at least.”
She stalked toward him. “And yet I might be pregnant even now.”
His eyes darkened. “And how does that make you feel?”
“Why would my feelings matter?” she asked sweetly. She stopped just in front of him, doing her best to not succumb after all and ogle his salt-dried golden skin, damp hair and hard body with its even harder cock. “When have they ever mattered? I’ve never had a choice in any of this…why start now?”
He clapped a hand around her forearm and jerked her close. “You’re making a mockery of our wedding vows,” he said softly, but with such dangerous undercurrents she couldn’t help but shiver.
“Are you saying you meant them?”
A pulse throbbed in his jaw. “Are you saying you didn’t?”
She gaped up at him, her mouth dry and her pulse galloping. “I don’t love you,” she croaked. “My vows were empty.”
“Then allow me to change your mind,” he snarled, before his mouth covered hers in a kiss that bordered on violent.
That she responded to his wildness, his pent up fury that matched her own wasn’t relevant in that moment. All that mattered was the release of carnal need and high emotion.
His mouth was relentless as he kissed her and she moaned against his skilled lips, unaware he’d spun her around and marched her out onto the deck until the railing was against her spine and the brisk air and late midday sun went straight through her gossamer thin robe.
He tore his mouth from hers and looked down at her. “Turn around,” he commanded.
She blinked. “Wh-what?”
“Turn around,” he repeated. “I want to take you from behind while you cling to the railing while I make you come.”
