He swallowed. The nightdress was the only sleepwear he’d packed. Unless she was going to sleep naked, he’d given her no choice of what to wear to bed. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. He wanted to see her in the white negligée. Maybe he also wanted to punish her a little for throwing everything back in his face. Now it seemed like the worst idea ever. Lowering the tablet, he hid the hard-on that strained against the zipper of his pants.
She flittered into the room like he didn’t exist. When she dumped the dress she’d worn in the overnight bag on the floor, she flashed him with a view of her naked back and perfectly rounded ass. Wanting had never been the burning, sweet, agonizing pain punishing him now.
“It’s late,” he said in a clipped tone, masking his lust with anger. “Come to bed.”
She turned slowly. Tracing the lace trimming on the V of the neck with a finger, she sauntered to the bed. “I thought you’d be into something more provocative.”
“More provocative?” There was nothing more provocative than her tight little body in that innocent white silk.
“You seem more like the black leather and red lace kind.” She stopped at the side of the bed.
His voice dropped an octave. “Are you teasing me?” With the seductive act, he was going to add, but she was slithering next to him onto the mattress.
She smiled, all smugness. “You’re the one who said you have control.”
The pretty witch was getting her own back. He all but growled. If this was a test, he was going to fail it miserably.
“Is this how you saw me?” She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin in her hands. “Virginal innocence?”
More or less. Was he that transparent? He clenched his jaw.
“What do you prefer?” she asked. “In normal circumstances, I mean.”
The way the silk draped over her peachy ass left little to the imagination. Resisting the urge to throw a blanket over her as-good-as-naked body, he got up and put away the tablet. Gruffly, he said, “I like what you’re wearing.” Then he added with more snide than needed, “I bought it, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but what turns you on? Good girls or bad ones?”
You. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Get under the fucking covers, Cle.”
Surprisingly, she obeyed, wiggling and ironing out the sheets until she was comfortable in her nest.
He pulled his T-shirt over his head and threw it on the chair before unzipping his pants. She watched him undress, following his actions with her eyes until he stood only in his briefs. He shouldn’t have made that promise about keeping his control. It was a dumb move that gave her too much power. She was testing that power, taking him to the limit.
“What now, Joss?” she challenged, pushing up on one elbow. “Do you still want to sleep in the same bed?”
Ah. If this was a ploy of getting him to sleep in a different room, she had another think coming.
He walked to the bed and stared down at her. “The day will come that you won’t be my little virgin any longer, and then you won’t lie in my bed and act so bravely.”
The seductive smile dropped as her cheeks paled. “I’m not yours, and I’m no longer a virgin.”
Leaning over her, he placed his palms on either side of her face. “To me, you are, and you will be until I remember taking it. As for being mine, you’ve signed that fate in blood.”
Anger sparked in her eyes as she clenched her hand into a fist.
He predicted the move before she could strike, grabbing her wrist and pinning it above her head. “Hit me, and you’ll sit in a train tomorrow with a smarting ass.”
She hissed like an angry kitten. “Let me go.”
When she yanked on his hold, he loosened his fingers. Keeping one eye on her, he went around the bed, got in, and turned off the light.
She rolled onto her side and shifted to the edge of the mattress, as far away from him as possible. She was angry now, just like he was, but when her breath finally evened out and he closed his eyes, he got a glimpse of how a normal life could be—a life with a woman.Chapter 27The dream returned, but this time it wasn’t Joss who climbed from the helicopter. Clelia couldn’t see the man’s face. However his clothes were familiar. She knew him. His identity was like a word on the tip of her tongue she just couldn’t grasp.
She stood on the jetty as the man walked toward her. Instinct screamed at her to run, but she was frozen to the spot. The distance between them shrunk. Flames leapt in the air, the smoke burning her nostrils and filling her lungs. Closer still. She willed her body to move, but she could only stand there and watch in horror as the man extended a hand, reaching for her.