Page 30 of Resisting Royal

My skin still burned from where his fingers accidentally grazed me as he touched my hair. “You sure are cocky, Russo.”

“I am, Amore. But, I see you weakening.” He stood straighter, looking down at me again, “I could have any woman I wanted, you have to know that. Money, power, the looks—I’m everything a woman craves.”

Arrogant bastard. “Then why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t want a faceless female to empty myself into. I don’t want to hand over my money, to exert my power knowing they will not dispute.” His eyes bore down on me, nearly paralyzing me in place.

I swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

Not like his answer mattered, but I felt like he wanted me to ask it. “You. I want you, Amore. You could have all that I have in this world, but you don’t want to take it. I give it all to you willingly, not because you’re a pretty face, although I will openly admit that your eyes are quickly becoming my weakness, but because you’re mine. Not just on paper, although that helps, but your body, your mind . . . they belong to me.”

Like hell they do. “Do your pretty words work with all the females?”

“Obviously none that matter,” he mumbled under his breath as he lowered onto his knees in front of me, the black slacks he wore wrinkling against the marble floor. “How long do you think you can play this game, Bianca? Pretending like you don’t want me when your body and eyes scream for me to take you?”

God, I hated how right he was. I hated that I wanted him with every fiber of my being just as much as I wanted to repel him away from me. I didn’t get a choice in regards to marrying him, so I was going to stay strong in the choices I did get to make within the marriage.

I squared my shoulders back, not letting his eyes make me cower like they no doubt did to others. “I’ve never pretended that I wasn’t attracted to you, Russo. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving you my body.”

His eyes flicked down my robe, which I realized now was slightly gaped, before coming back up to my gaze, his fucking arrogant smirk plastered on his face. “I’m willing to bet that I’ll have your body sooner than you think, Bianca.”

I snorted. Out loud. A completely unladylike sound. “Doubtful.”

He leaned in, and before I could even register what was happening, his soft lips were on mine, my body firm against his chest as he kissed me. An utterly searing, body-weakening, mind-numbing kiss. Fire. I felt it, and I despised the fact that once again, he was right. He was right about just how much my body wanted his. Just how weak I was near him. Just how out of control I was in this situation.

He pulled back, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Doubtful.” He repeated my earlier statement with heat knowingly dancing in his eyes. “Dinner’s ready, Mrs. Russo. See you in five.”

I watched his well-formed ass walk away and had to fight to control my breath. Well, that went well, I mentally scowled. His lips touched mine for a mere second, and I was ready to rub my bare thighs against his clothed ones, seeking relief from the pressure that suddenly had become too unbearable.

Shit. This was bad. This was so, so very bad. I blew out a breath and forced myself to stand on legs that felt like wet, soggy noodles. But if I thought a searing kiss and pulsing core was terrible, it was nothing compared to how I felt when I looked in the mirror and realized it had all taken place while I casually wore a lime green, grass-smelling, face mask.

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