Page 98 of Wedlock
I snort.
“Like that’s going to change.”
He chuckles.
“Angie, please. I’m trying here. Come on a date with me.”
“What part of me running to another country to get away from you don’t you understand?”
“I’m not the man you ran from,” he sighs, “I’ve changed. I know I wronged you, and I want to make it right, starting with getting to know you.”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I want to,” he says gently, “but I can’t.” His tone changes and sends a deliciously familiar shiver through my body as he adds, “I want you, Angie. Only you.”
I gasp and shake my head, trying to ignore the images that flash up of us, limbs entwined in rich fabrics on the floor of his ballroom, his eyes staring into mine with intensity as we came together. The many nights when he’d thrown me over his shoulder and stalked from the dining room to his bed to have his way with me, yet touched me with such tenderness and gave me such pleasure. How I looked forward to those nights, despite it all.
But then I remember the mistresses, the threats, the violence, the fact that he impregnated me around the same time as he did Sophie.
“I don’t want you,” I snap.
“I think you do.”
I hang up and hurl the phone at the wall, wincing as it hits the rockwork and smashes.
“I don’t,” I snarl as I stalk from the room.
But a tiny part, a very, very tiny part of me, knows I’m lying.
76
I’m determined to leave it a few days before I call again, but I’m an impatient man.
When her phone number doesn’t work I know I need to get my men to track down her new number, if she has one.
“If she doesn’t, she’s in for a surprise visit. Bloody annoying woman,” I growl to my empty study.
“Who’s the lucky lady?” A familiar voice asks from the doorway.
Turning slowly from where I’d been staring into my fireplace, I narrow my eyes as the Princess glides towards me and kisses me on the lips.
“I do hope it’s me,” she adds as she pulls back. “I’ve been waiting for a visit since your release from the dungeons.”
I study her carefully, her perfect hair and make-up, black pillbox hat, short black dress and matching stilettos. She looks more like a spider to me now than ever before, and I wonder what I ever saw in her. Comparing her to Angie was like comparing night to day. Even though I’m a creature of the night, I’d choose day every time if I had to pick between these two women.
And I have.
“Falco, my love,” Revna croons, unaware that if she weren’t a princess I’d already have ripped her heart out and hurled it into the flames, “I’m so glad to see you freeandlearn that your heir is recovering from his illness.”
“Yes,” I cock my head and narrow my eyes as I meet hers. “His illness.”
“I just saw him,” she goes on, turning to mix herself a martini, “he’s positively adorable. No special qualities, but a strong heir if ever I saw one.”
“What special qualities might a three-year-old display?” I snort.
“With a father like you,” she murmurs, “he’s bound to have many, but perhaps he takes after his mother.Ourbabies will be vastly superior.”
Reaching over I take the glass from her fingers and fling it into the fire.
