Page 10 of The Forbidden Bride He Stole

How dare he?How dare hewhen he was not immune to this thing either.

“I think you know exactly what I’m thinking about.”

“What is it exactly?” he asked.

She was suddenly aware that the street they had gone out to was an alley and deserted. The sidewalk between her feet suddenly felt warm rather than cold, as it had a few moments earlier.

The warm Grecian evening was suddenly hot.

And all of her plans had shifted. In the time since he’d carried her out of the club she’d realized this was more fraught, more perilous than she’d thought before. This was...the end of her sanity. He couldn’t have all the power anymore.

She had to take some for herself.

She had to touch him.

She had to make him feel this. Understand it.

She had to.

She took a step toward him until her breasts touched his chest. She tried to suppress a shiver. Trembling.

“Perhaps you’re angry with me because you feel I haven’t provided adequate compensation.” Her voice shook, her heart beating so hard she felt it in her temples. “What if I showed you how appreciative I am of the work you’ve done for me?”

“You must be drunk,” he said, not moving away, staring her down defiantly, his face like stone.

She would not be dismissed. She would not let him do that.

“I’mnotdrunk. I barely had two sips of my drink.” She was high on something else. On her outrage. On the clarity she felt now. Understanding that she had power here. That he felt this too. And how desperate she was to force him to feel it. Really feel it. Like she did. “I know exactly what I want.”

He stepped toward her, his dark eyes glinting. “And what is it you think you want, little girl?”

He didn’t think she would follow through. He thought she would be afraid. She wasn’t.

“I would really like to get down on my knees and show my appreciation. You would like that, wouldn’t you? I can see that you’re not immune to me. I’ve seen you looking at my body these last couple of nights. You like my dress, as much as you wish you could hate it. If you ask very nicely, perhaps I’ll pull the top down and let you see—”

“Enough,”he ground out, gripping her arms and pushing her back a step. Her eyes widened, fear and triumph warring within her. “You’re being a fool. I’m your guardian. You are my ward; you are under my protection. A child.”

“I’m twenty-two. I’m not a child.”

“You might as well be one to me. I was friends with your father, I’ve never been friends with you.”

“What does friendship have to do with desire? What does it have to do with—”

“Enough,” he gritted out.

And she did it, she mustered every ounce of bravery she could and looked down, and she saw. That burgeoning hunger there, pushing against the front of his pants.

“You want me. Your body doesn’t lie.”

Calling on a boldness she had no idea she possessed, she reached her hand forward, and her fingertips brushed that jutting arousal.

His lip curled as he moved her hand aside. “You think that’s significant?”

And suddenly, his face transformed. Pity and contempt were reflected in his gaze. But the need was still there. Regardless of what he said.

“You’re hard,” she said. “You want me.”

“You silly little girl. That doesn’t mean quite so much as you would like it to. A man can get hard for anything. Sex is cheap. You have no idea how cheap. It means nothing to a man like me. I’ve had more lovers than I can readily count. More than I could ever count. Because I don’t remember most of them. And why would I? I feel nothing for them. And you... You’re young. You have a nice figure—soft skin. A man is bound to respond to you. But don’t forget that a man would forget you as soon as he had you, darling. It is not a compliment to make a man hard. It is simply biology. It means nothing about how I feel for you.”

---