Page 29 of Bride of Betrayal
‘Not to call you that, yes…’
But clearly he was unrepentant. He said, ‘What will it take?’
Angelica’s head felt fuzzy. ‘Take for what?’
‘To show you that you can trust me.’
‘I…’ She trailed off. Angelica knew in her heart of hearts that she did trust Leo. With this at least. He wouldn’t do to her again what he’d done last night. And, in a way, she could see that if she had come to her senses, she might have had a similar reaction.
Then Leo said, ‘How about if I…let you tie me up?’
Chapter Seven
A flash ofheat went straight to Angelica’s core at the audacious suggestion. To have Leo at her mercy, begging and pleading. She could walk away and leave him there…get her own back. But of course she wouldn’t have the nerve to do such a thing. Wouldn’t want to.
‘You’d let me do that?’
A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face and then it was gone. He nodded. A little devil inside Angelica made her say, ‘OK, then.’
She stepped back and dislodged his hand and put out her hand. He looked at it for a moment and then put his hand in hers. As Angelica led him to the bedroom, her insides swooping and fizzing, she felt some measure of control for the first time in a long time.
In the bedroom Angelica let go of Leo’s hand and turned to face him. Feeling bold, she said, ‘Take your clothes off.’
He arched a brow. ‘Please?’
‘Please.’
Angelica wasn’t sure if Leo would even comply. Maybe he’d come to his senses again and tell her to get out. But no, his fingers went to his bow tie and undid it, pulling it free and letting it drop to the ground.
Then he was undoing his shirt, button by button. Had time slowed down? Stopped even? It felt like that to Angelica. She couldn’t take her eyes off his long fingers, the chest he was revealing, inch by muscled inch. The smattering of hair. The defined pectorals and then down, to the ridged abdominals.
His shirt was open and he pulled it off completely. It fell to the floor. Then his hands were on his belt. He opened it and then the top button. The zip. Angelica could see the bulge pressing against the material.Good.He wasn’t as cool as he looked.
Her breaths were coming short and shallow. She had to focus and suck more air in. His hands were on the sides of his trousers now and with one graceful movement he pushed them down, taking his underwear with them.
He stepped out of the pile of clothes at his feet. He was naked. Gloriously, unashamedly, naked. Tall, proud. Virile. Angelica’s gaze travelled over his form, relearning his body. Taking in that scar. The narrow hips. The hair at his groin, his erection. Long and heavy. Potent.
Muscled thighs. He was more ripped than she remembered him being. More densely muscled.
‘Where do you want me?’
Angelica looked up, her mouth dry. He was really just letting her order him around? It was heady, this feeling of power. Although she knew if he touched her any illusion of power would be gone in an instant.
‘On the bed, on your back.’
Leo went over to the bed, skin gleaming, muscles bunching and moving. He lay down on his back, one arm above his head. He said, ‘You should probably get protection from the bathroom now.’
Angelica kicked off the shoes and went into the bathroom, finding the box of protective sheaths. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. She took two foil packages out of the box and got even hotter.
She went back into the bedroom and saw the bow tie on the ground. She picked it up, not thinking too much about what she was doing because if she did she’d lose her nerve. She put the protection down on the bedside table, noting that Leo glanced at it but without looking at his expression. She knelt on the bed beside him and said, ‘Give me one hand.’
He lifted the hand above his head and held it out. He was even more intimidating up close, and definitely far more muscled than he had been.Prison.Her heart spasmed. She ignored it and took his hand, wrapping the bow tie around his wrist and tying a knot, then she said, ‘Your other hand.’
He dutifully held the other one out and in seconds she’d tied his wrists together securely. There was nothing else to tie them to, the headboard was solid wood.
He asked, ‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘My father taught me. It’s a sailor’s knot.’ She didn’t want to think of her father now and the chain of violence that had ripped her family apart.
