Page 6 of Breaking the Annulment

“Ensure my safety? He was acriminal, and he married my mother, dragging her into his world. Theirmarriageput us in danger! She would still be alive if he’d just left her alone. I have every right to be angry, so don’t lecture me.”

He studied her for a long moment. “Believe what you want; it changes nothing. In case that isn’t clear enough, let me spell it out for you: I’m not signing your annulment.”

“You can’t keep me locked in here forever!”

A slow, unsettling smile curved his mouth. “Are you sure about that?”

Abruptly he stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and adjusted his cuff links.

She frowned. “It’s Saturday. Are you leaving?”

“Would you miss me?”

She stood defiantly as he came around the table, far too close for comfort.

“This isn’t right,” she whispered, hating the tremor in her voice. “Let me go.”

“Is that truly what you want?” he asked, voice a rough murmur. “Or is it just what you keep telling yourself? You could have mailed those papers, but you didn’t. Why is that, I wonder?”

Her pulse pounded, conflicting emotions battling for supremacy. Why hadn’t she mailed the papers? She tried to open her mouth—maybe to hurl another insult, or to insist she felt nothing. But the words wouldn’t come out.

He closed the remaining distance between them, the very edge of his lips making contact with hers in a featherlight caress.

She sucked in a choppy breath and held it, frozen, every cell in her body tingling in equal parts anticipation and fear. He’dnever kissed her before, never even held her hand. If either of them moved even a hair closer, there would be no turning back.

A wave of unwanted desire flooded her limbs. She should resist, turn her head away—logic demanded it—but she stayed rooted to the spot, frozen. This moment had been building since their first confrontation.

Breath ragged, eyes blazing with a mix of triumph and determination, he challenged her. “You say you don’t want me, yet you don’t push me away. Tell me you don’t want to know what it would be like to have me inside you.”

Aurelia’s answer caught in her throat. She swallowed hard and whispered, “I don’t.”

He circled her throat with one hand, his thumb coming to rest on the erratic pulse at her neck. “Liar.” His tone was equal parts anger and something darkly possessive.

“This sham of a marriage has to end. Let me go.”

His eyes darkened with intensity. “I agree. The sham has to end, just not the way you pictured it. You’re mine. I will never let you go.”

Instead of releasing her, he backed her against the wall, pinning her body with his. She was acutely aware of the hand at her throat. He didn’t squeeze––he didn’t need to; she recognized the threat. Here was a predator––she could fight against him or submit to his dominance.

He raised his free hand, fingers trailing lightly over her skin until they were buried in her hair. The move was slow. Deliberate. There was no mistaking his intent. His body was hard, full of controlled aggression. His eyes said it all as they captured hers––she’d had her chance to run.

A rush of adrenaline mixed with desire, creating and an unwelcome, overwhelming awareness of his muscular leg wedging itself between her thighs. And still, he didn’t press hislips against hers. She began trembling, her knees ready to give out. This was crazy. She should stop him.

Her focus narrowed, acutely aware of his nearness, of his warm breath mingling with hers, the taste of his cabernet on the tip of her tongue. He was slowly gathering the reins of her desire, his control over her responses growing with every second he kept her waiting. Wanting. Her breath hitched. The same sizzling tension she’d felt back at the fundraiser flared tenfold.

Silence stretched taut between them. She cursed the pulse of desire that settled between her legs.

“I won’t let you run to him,” he said, voice rough with suppressed emotion. “I won’t let you give him what’s mine to take.”

She tensed, tears of rage suddenly burning her eyes as she hissed, “That’s what this is about? You’re afraid someone might steal your toy? How do you know I haven’t given myself to him already? If not him, then someone else? Seven years is a long time.”

His only reply was a slanted, desperate kiss. She gasped, hands flying up to shove him away—but the moment he deepened the kiss, coaxing, daring her to participate, her resistance vanished as years of anger and fear collided with new, irresistible attraction. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she fought the magnetic pull.

His mouth was hungry, punishing, as if trying to devour the defiance right out of her. She should have screamed or slapped him, but her traitorous body responded, heat coursing through her veins. He tightened his hold imperceptibly and took a step back, leading her away from the table, and she followed willingly. When he finally broke away, they were both breathing hard.

“I hate you,” she breathed, trembling.

“You can, but you don’t,” he rasped. “Even if you do, it isn’t going to change anything between us.”

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