Page 45 of Wicked Angel

Fire licked my veins, wetness pooling in my core, but before he could continue, a waiter came by with another set of champagne flutes to replace our empty ones. “Of course, it isn’t,” I replied, forcing my tone to stop shaking. “You wouldn’t want to show Raffaello Price just what you do to his daughter behind closed doors.”

“You’re not just his daughter anymore, Angel,” Gaven replied. “You’remine.”

A shiver skated down my spine at that, but I didn’t dignify his words with a response of my own.

“So,Mrs. Price,” Gaven said, redirecting the conversation, “tell me … what was little Evangeline Price planning to do before being married to a hitman?”

I sighed, taking a large gulp of the fresh alcohol in my hand as I settled back into my chair. “You know what my plans were,” I reminded him. “ I wanted to go to college. I wanted to find a life outside of all of this. I never wanted to be married—certainly not this young.” I looked down at my hand, where the heavy rock that he’d slid onto my ring finger on my left hand rested. What scared me more than his hand, more than him fucking me and locking me up to get me pregnant with his precious fucking heir, was more subtle than all of that. I was afraid that he could see right into my mind, right through me.

“What would you have gone to school for?” he asked.

I blinked, shocked that he would even be curious about such a thing. “Computers,” I blurted out without thinking.

“Computers?” he repeated, his tone lilting with surprise. I could feel his attention on my face, but I didn’t meet it.

I shrugged. “I’m good with numbers—but computers are more interesting. Technology is advancing quickly in the world. To understand that is to understand the progress of our society.”

“You speak of progress and yet were born into a family as traditional as they come.” Gaven’s voice sounded amused by that fact. The contradiction wasn’t lost on me, either.

“Perhaps I’m most interested in progress and technologybecauseI was born into a traditional family,” I suggested, grinding the words out as a newfound fire overtook me.

“How unfortunate.”

I gritted my teeth at those words and finally shifted my gaze to his. “Are you pitying me right now?” I demanded.

He arched one brow as he stared down at me. “Does that upset you?”

“Yes.” There was no use lying. “It pisses me off.”

His lips twitched again. He liked that. Upsetting me. Pissing me off. I frowned. “Why do you antagonize me so?” I asked.

Gaven’s gaze continued to hold mine. “I like seeing you emotional,” he admitted. “Your face grows pinker the angrier you get.” His hand lifted—slow so as not to startle me—and he gently brushed a finger down my jawline. “You have such youth and fire in you. I didn’t realize how much I missed that about myself.”

“I’m sure you’ve started more than a few fires yourself,” I shot back.

He laughed, the sound startling although not at all unpleasant.

I sighed and continued to lightly sip my champagne. “I don’t want to hate you,” I admitted.

His laughter drifted off and silence descended. “I would prefer for us to get along as well.”

“Because it’ll be easier for you?” I contemplated aloud.

“Yes,” he answered, “because I never imagined I’d be married. Now that I am … I find that I don’t want my wife to hate me.”

“After everything you’ve done to me?” I turned to look at him. “That’s surprising.”

“Act all you want, Angel, but you can’t lie to me and neither can your body,” he replied. “Youlikedwhat I did to you.”

A blush burned through my face, but I pretended I didn’t feel it as I met his gaze and glowered. “Whether I did or not is irrelevant,” I argued.

“It’s very relevant,” he said.

I shook my head. “You’re doing it again,” I muttered, looking away from him.

“Doing what?”

“Confusing me,” I snapped. I tried not to sound bitter, but it was difficult.

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