Page 71 of Vengeful Vows

A gorgeous devil with a cold, black heart.

He’d ensured I fell for him, yet he gave nothing in return.

“And a wonderful mother to our children.”

I close my eyes. Yes, I want kids. But I’ll never offer him my body.

He’s expecting a response that I never give.

There’s a bottle of champagne waiting for us in the owner’s suite.

“Would you like a glass?” he offers.

“Please.” The mimosas have worn off, taking away some of my numbness.

While he uncorks the bottle, I walk to the bedroom and remove my reception gown from the closet. Then I attempt to unfasten the dozens of tiny satin-covered buttons that trace my spine. Two are no problem, but the rest are confoundingly out of reach, and I sigh.

“Need some help?”

I spin to find him lazing in the entryway, a flute of champagne in hand.

The moment is too intimate. “I’ll figure it out.” Even if I have to rip them off.

“At times, your stubbornness is acceptable, charming even.”

Despite my refusal, he closes the distance between us, and I suck in a breath that I hold.

He offers me the glass, and I accept, downing half in a couple of drinks.

Then he plucks it from my fingers and places it near the television.

His eyes darken and desire flares in the depths, making me take a step back.

“You’re my gift, Bella.” He strokes my jaw, then lower, over my collarbone before tracing the V of my neckline. “It’s time I unwrap you to see what I’ve been missing.”

Frantically I shake my head. “No.” I continue retreating until I run into the wall.

“Oh yes.” With great deliberation, he picks me up and carries me a few steps, putting me down on the dresser.

My chest heaving, my pulse racing, I channel all my inner strength. “I don’t want this.”

“No?” His voice is easy, without any hint of concern.

Do my protests even matter to him?

“So why are you squirming?” His cock is pressing insistently against the front of his trousers.

Does he intend to take me here? Now? Instead of waiting until after the reception?

“We’re going to consummate our marriage, Bella.”

The moment I’ve been dreading. For the sake of my sanity, I have to stall him as long as possible. “I won’t do it willingly.”

“No?”

Again, he sounds more curious than anything.

He places a hand into the neckline of my wedding gown and pulls down hard, tearing the delicate fabric, exposing me to his gaze, and I cry out a protest. I’m horribly reminded I’m nothing more than a pawn to him. “Are you going to force me?” I demand breathlessly.

---