Page 128 of My Ruthless Husband

“How long have you been watching me?” I stare at him through drenched lashes, my arms hiding my breasts from his intent gaze.

“Long enough to know something’s bothering you.”

Gritting my teeth, I say, “Watching someone swim naked isn’t very gentlemanly.”

“Well, we both know I am no gentleman. And let’s not forget you are my wife.”

Unbelievable. He thinks reminding me I’m his wife is supposed to justify everything! It’s infuriating, the way he disregards decency and expects me to accept it. And to think, he didn’t even bother to talk to me when he was in Dubai, but had the audacity to demand hourly update on me through Vicky and his staff. Like I am his property. The nerve of him.

And it’s not beyond him to strip right then and there and join me without hesitation. He’s done it before. And after what happened tonight, I am in no mood for that. Especially when I am getting more proofs of his true nature. I lift my chin. “I want to step out. Leave.”

Instead of leaving, the infuriating man shrugs out of his suit jacket, drops it unceremoniously on the floor then reaches for a towel draped on the chaise lounge. I watch with pursed lips as he walks to the edge and stands there with that towel stretched out, waiting.

When I just glare, he raises his eyebrow. I don’t know why but that little action sets me off. I’m not known for a bad temper. Even after learning that his intentions for marrying me weren’t based on love, I was more heartbroken than angry.

Despite knowing he’s baiting me and I shouldn’t engage, I can’t help myself. He thinks I will stay in the pool like a prude. Well, even if that’s true, I want to prove him wrong.

Eyes locked with his, I move purposefully toward the edge of the pool. As I step out, the cool water trickles down my bare skin, sending a shiver through me. The air feels colder against my wet body, heightening my awareness of every inch.

“You’re shameless.” I snap but he doesn’t seem to be listening. He is too busy staring, his dark eyes clinging to my naked breasts before gliding down to my flat stomach, then to my hips and the dark triangle of hair below.

Shuddering—not entirely because of the cold air—I snatch the towel from him and wrap it around my body. “I hate you.”

His hands slide smoothly into the pockets of his black trousers. “You desperately want to but can’t.”

“Actually, you make it pretty easy,” I retort, tightening the towel around me. I turn to leave, but before I can take a step, his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me back to face him.

“Why are you upset?”

“Because you came back,” I tell him coldly.

“Let’s not entertain that lie. I was referring to your unexpected late-night swim. It’s quite out of character for you.”

“Maybe I’ve changed. Get used to it!” I snap.

He angles his dark head and studies me. “Wasn’t that you who couldn’t keep your hands off me before I left for Dubai?”

I feel my face heat up instantly. I can’t even look him in the eye. My mind races, scrambling for a response, but nothing coherent comes to mind. He’s right, of course, I was the one clinging to him that night after the charity gala but admitting that would mean giving him the upper hand.

Not wanting to fall for his provocations, I turn away. I rush toward the door, ready to slip away before things escalate, but he interrupts me. “Did you sleep well without me?”

He damn well knows the answer. Every time he’s away, it’s like I’m stranded in a storm, all alone. I’ve never told him how desperate those nights can get—how I lie there, trying to conjure the scent of his skin, the steady rhythm of his breathing beside me. He knows how much I am dependent on him. And now, he’s using it to cut straight through me, like he enjoys seeing me unravel, knowing he’s the only one who can stitch me back together.

“Like a baby,” I taunt, not bothering to turn. There’s a satisfaction in my voice that surprises even me. “I slept even better without you.”

I wait for his retort, but I’m met with silence. Just as I’m about to revel in my victory, I gasp sharply when his hand settles on my hip. “Damian! I don’t know what you’re thinking—”

He pulls me to him, his shirt grazing my naked shoulders. “Oh, yes, you do.”

I freeze when he gathers my hair and pushes it off to one side. My heart starts beating fast when I feel his breath on my neck.“Don’t touch me.” I try to pull away but he tightens his grip on my hip.

“I’m going to touch you,” he whispers brushing his lips against the side of my neck, making me shiver. “Because you want me to.”

He slides his other hand around my front and reaches up where I’ve tucked the edge of the towel between my breasts. But before he can unwrap it, I squirm away, tightening my grip on the towel.

I glare at him. “No! I don’t.”

He smiles. “Liar.”

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