‘I’ll excuse nothing,’ she spat.
‘And—’ he stopped, completely losing his train of thought when he found his face on a level with that part of her body he’d love to touch. To taste.
Was she as aroused as he was? Wet even?
Hell, don’t go there. Just don’t go there.
He blanked his mind as much as possible as he ran both hands up over one long, lean leg, finally remembering what he was about to say. ‘And I’ve never had a woman complain.’
‘That’s not true.’
He stopped and looked at her.
‘I remember reading about that girl. A model who said that you tricked her into thinking you cared. That you wouldn’t know love if it…if it hit—no, knocked you on the head.’
Tristan paused. ‘She’s entitled to her opinion, but it wasn’t my fault she fell in love with me. She knew exactly what type of relationship she was getting into, and love was never part of the deal.’
‘Silly girl.’ Lily folded her arms across her chest and stared anywhere but at him. ‘She doesn’t know how lucky she was. Personally, I don’t know any woman in her right mind who could ever imagine being in love with you.’
He shifted to her other leg.
‘Unfortunately it happens. But women fall in love with many things, and it’s rarely the man they see in front of them.’ And in him, he knew, they saw a title and a life of privilege. Like his mother had with his father. Shopping, champagne and chauffeurs, he’d heard her brag to more than one friend.
‘You should be
thankful they want something at all. It’s not like you can rely on your charming personality,’ she scorned.
Tristan laughed—a hard sound in the deathly silent room. ‘I’m not looking for love.’ He rose and reached around to cup her bottom, closing his eyes as he slid both hands into her deep back pockets.
Lily’s hands flew to his chest, as if to hold him back, but how easy would it be just to tug her forward and let her feel how much she aroused him?
‘What happened?’ She gasped breathlessly. ‘Did a woman scorn you, Tristan?’
He knew she was deliberately trying to distract him, and that she was right to do so.
‘No woman’s ever got close enough to scorn me, Honey,’ he sneered, skating his hands along the inside of her waistband and then finally cupping between her legs.
‘You bastard!’ she seethed, her hand rising to slap his face.
He stopped her, but deep down he knew he deserved it. He let her go so she could stalk to the opposite side of the bed.
‘I hope you’re satisfied.’
Not by a long shot, sweetheart.
‘That was necessary. Nothing else,’ he said evenly.
‘Keep telling yourself that. It might make you sleep better tonight,’ she spat.
‘I’ll sleep just fine,’ he lied.
‘Well, you shouldn’t. But I’m curious—is it just me you don’t trust, or all women?’
‘Don’t go there.’
‘Why not? Your attitude is abysmal for someone whose parents were happily married—’
‘Actually, my parents weren’t happily married.’