Rule's Obsession (The House of Rule 1)

An enraged snarl left his throat as she sank both of her hands around his arm, trying to dislodge him from her body. He pushed against her for the space of two seconds before pulling away from the juncture of her thighs.

The immediate sexual threat was gone but before she could breathe a sigh of relief, his hands sank into her hair and held her scalp strongly, his fingers biting into her. He stared down at her with accusing, molten eyes and his words were laced with icy contempt, "Are you being a tease on purpose? Did you come here with the intention of playing a fucking game with me? Because I assure you, I don't like it."

His eyes riveted her to the spot. His jaw was clenched; there was a visible tic in his cheek and he looked as if he could attack at any moment. She licked her suddenly dry lips and shook her head with a jerky movement. "It's your . . . your mother."

His eyes narrowed. "What about my mother?"

"I came here to tell you . . . " Angie sucked in a breath and tried to calm her raging heartbeat. "I came here to tell you that she came to see me."

His curt voice deepened, "When was this?"

"A few days ago. She made an appointment for next week, for me to do her hair. But she was very clear that she wants to talk about us."

"Us?"

Angie nodded before she could form a reply. "You and me."

His grip lessened infinitesimally and she could see his brain ticking. "That's why you're here? In my office?"

She nodded her head again. "I don't know what you want me to say to her. I don't want to carry on with more untruths. But she's your mother and this is really your call."

He pulled back from her, removing his hands from her scalp but not moving away from her. One finger slid down her cheek before he put his forearms on either side of her head in an enclosure she couldn't escape. His expression stilled and grew somber. "Do I owe you an apology?"

The question itself sounded contrite to Angie, and her heart rate came down a notch. "I think we're okay."

"I was rough on you," he said smoothly, with no expression showing on his features, but the words themselves soothed her.

"It's all right." After a slight pause, her hands landed lightly on his hips, both because she missed the connection and to show she held no animosity.

His hand left the door and settled around her chin, lifting it gently. "I'm having a hard time staying away from you," he said, as if admitting his greatest sin.

Stunned by his honesty, Angie didn't try to contain her answer, "I'm having a hard time, too."

He stroked her bottom lip as his face grew taut. "Maybe we should do something about it."

She flushed and shook her head, keenly aware of his scrutiny. "You tripped me up with the verbal warning the other day."

His forehead fell to hers and he whispered, "It was a lame attempt to scare you away."

Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. "I think it worked."

"Forget what I said."

At his words, the air around them electrified, but she tried to hold onto her sanity. "I don't know if I can. You seemed pretty serious at the time."

"I was pissed at my mother that day and I took it out on you."

Angie didn't know if she quite believed him but her curiosity was roused.

His hand ran up her cheekbone before sliding down to touch her lip again. A shiver ran through her but she pretended not to be affected. "So what are you saying?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant attitude that she didn't quite believe was nonchalant at all. "We don't have to let anything get out of hand," he said in a controlled voice, but not really answering her question.

Was he trying to talk her into something, just as he'd warned he might? She swallowed hard and asked, "And by that, you mean, nothing serious has to happen between us?"

His finger continued to scrape back and forth across her bottom lip. "Nothing serious."

She felt another ripple of excitement. She didn't know if she believed him, though. "Casual?"

He looked as if the word pained him, but he agreed quickly enough. "Sure."

"What about your mother?"

He scanned her critically. "What about her?"

"We tell her the truth? That our relationship is casual?" she clarified.

A muscle flicked at his jaw. "No. The less she knows the better. As far as she's concerned, we're friends, nothing more, no relationship."

"Just friends?" she questioned.

"Just friends," he agreed.

Angie cleared her throat. "And are we?"

His hand left her face as he threaded his fingers through her hair. "What?"

Her pulse became erratic as she questioned, "Are we friends?"

His gaze became almost glazed as he glanced down at her lips and lingered there. Finally, he raised his eyes to hers, but he took his time about answering. "Sure. Why not?"