Claiming His Wedding Night

Malachi met her gaze. ‘Is that why you’re sitting all that way over there on your own?’

Watching her bite into her soft lower lip, he felt his groin harden. He could see the conflict in her eyes, could almost feel the nervous jolt of her pulse. She wanted what he wanted, but she couldn’t admit it to herself—let alone him. Maybe it was time to switch tactics.

He let the silence between them lengthen again and then, shifting round, the better to watch her reaction, he said softly, ‘So, are you demonstrating your independence? Or am I making you nervous?’

He had chosen his words intentionally, guessing that she would find it impossible not to rise to the implication that somehow he had got under her skin. His assumption was quickly and gratifyingly confirmed as she turned and glared at him, her narrowed gaze two slits of hostile blue.

‘Nervous! Why would I be nervous?’

He shrugged, watching the slow rise of colour in her cheeks and the darkening of her eyes.

‘Being here with me...’ he murmured. ‘Alone... There was a time when we couldn’t keep our hands off of one another—’

He could hear her breathing, short and sharp and shallow, and felt a shivering rush of triumph dart over his skin. She was more than nervous. She was aroused.

&nbs

p; ‘That was a long time ago,’ she said stiffly. ‘A lot’s changed.’

‘And a lot hasn’t...’ He paused, feeling his body respond to the provocation in her eyes and the pulse jerking erratically at the base of her throat. ‘Like this...’ And, reaching out, he stretched his arm along the back of the seat and lightly touched her hair. ‘This hasn’t changed one bit. It’s still just as wild and beautiful.’ Pulling loose a gleaming curl, he wound the hair round his finger.

Heart pounding, Addie shook his hand off. ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking about going blonde. And short. Really short.’

With considerable difficulty, she tore her eyes away from his dark, shimmering gaze. Did he seriously think that one touch was all it would take? That just stroking her hair would be enough for her to melt into his arms and forget all about his appalling attempt to blackmail her? She caught her breath. Probably. He was so used to women throwing themselves at him. And, judging by the way her whole body was vibrating like a tuning fork, it appeared that she agreed with him. Or at least her stupid, treacherous body did.

‘I could walk from here,’ she said quickly, glancing out of the window at the rain-spattered pavement. ‘It doesn’t look that bad any more.’

She turned to face him and instantly wished she hadn’t. Lounging negligently, his grey gaze seemed to hold her captive, so that even if she’d wanted to yank open the door and run as fast as possible from the dangerous, swirling undercurrents in the car, she would not have been able to do so.

‘What?’ she said hoarsely. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Why do you think?’ Slowly, with almost cat-like laziness, he leaned forward and picked up her hand, playing gently with her fingers.

She opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t know or care, but somehow the words stayed stubbornly in her throat. Her mouth was dry and she could feel her pulse hammering in her wrists so hard that her hands seemed like living creatures. Drawing back, she pressed her spine into the upholstery of the seat.

‘It doesn’t matter what I think. None of this is real.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s like you said. It’s just us being alone together again.’

He was holding her softly, but his voice was softer still. ‘Maybe. Only you seem pretty damn real to me—and so does how I’m feeling right now.’

Her blood felt as though it were thinning, growing lighter. If only she could fly, she thought desperately, fly far away. But neither fight nor flight was possible. Even thinking appeared to be a struggle.

Threads of heat were trickling slowly over her skin like warm syrup off a spoon and she stared at him helplessly, hypnotised by the languorous glow of his gaze. She wanted to lie back and close her eyes and breathe in his warm, masculine scent and believe what he was saying was true. How could it not be? When he said it in that voice...

For a moment she lingered over his words, repeating them inside her head: How I’m feeling right now...

And slowly she pulled her fingers away from his. It sounded true because it was true. Probably Malachi did feel like that ‘right now’. But it would pass. No matter how beautiful and enticing it sounded, it was as transient as a winter sunset.

She shrank back inside her skin. ‘But that doesn’t make it right,’ she said quietly.

She felt his gaze, fierce and fixed, on the side of her face.

‘It makes it better than right. It makes it perfect. This time, this way, it’ll be good between us. There’s no expectation. No promises or pressure.’

He made it sound so simple, so perfect. She could feel herself wavering.

Beside her, he inched closer, and looking up into the focus of his eyes, she saw a heat and intensity that seemed to melt her breath. She felt a rush of panic for those eyes told her what she already knew: that he still owned her sexually and now he was claiming her back.

‘Stop it!’ She lifted her hand and held it up. ‘Stop saying these things. And don’t come any nearer. I don’t want you to.’