Billionaire's Island Bride(33)

Her face still hidden, Erin could feel Dare’s hands roaming over her body. She was not seeing, just feeling - the warmth of his body against hers, his big hands cupping her breasts, his fingers teasing her nipples - and the sensations were so intense that she moaned.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Dare’s hoarse whisper was like a song to her heart and she sighed and relaxed in his arms.

“Come,” he said then lifted her into his arms and stood. “It’s time I had a real taste of my lovely wife.”

At his words Erin’s eyes widened and she laid a hand on his chest. “Dare, no. You promised.”

He was heading out of the kitchen now, carrying her as if she were nothing but a small child. “Promised what?”

“This marriage. It’s in name only,” she said as she began to wriggle in his arms. She wanted him to put her down. How firm and businesslike could she be when he was holding her so close she could hear his heart beating in her ear? No, she needed to be on solid footing to have this conversation.

“In name only.” He gave a harsh laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding.” He kept on walking, totally ignoring her struggle to get down.

“Put me down.” Erin spoke through clenched teeth and gave him a punch on the arm. He didn’t even flinch. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

That brought another laugh from Dare. “You seem to be coming along quite nicely.”

“Dare, if you don’t put me down this instant I’m going to scream and you’re not going to like it.”

“Go ahead. Scream all you want. Francine is all the way in the far wing of the house and she sleeps like a log.”

By this time they were in a part of the house to which Erin had never ventured. They were approaching Dare’s suite. She had to do everything in her power to stay out of his room. Once inside, she would be lost. She had to make him stop.

“Dare DeSouza if you don’t put me down I’m going to scream bloody murder.” She was determined that she would not cross his threshold. He’d rejected her once. She would never, ever give him the opportunity to do it again. She drew for the one thing she knew was guaranteed to make him stop. “Are you so desperate you’re resorting to rape?”

If she’d shot him in the chest with a bullet it could not have halted him faster. Dare came to a sudden stop and, his face black as midnight, he stared down at her. “What the hell did you just say?”

Erin dropped her eyes and bit her lower lip. She didn’t need to repeat herself. He’d heard her loud and clear. And her plan had worked.

Dare slid his arm from beneath her legs and lowered her to the ground. Once he’d set her on her feet he stepped back and his look was dark with displeasure.

“I want you, Erin. Make no mistake about that. But I’ll be damned if I’ll be accused of rape.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I may want you but I will never force myself on you.” His gray eyes turned cold. “Next time, you’ll have to be the one to make the first move. I won’t lay a finger on you unless you come to me. Begging.”

With that, he turned on his heels and walked away, leaving her standing there, her arms still wrapped around her chest.#p#分页标题#e#

She’d made her point and he’d gotten the message. Mission accomplished. So why did she feel like her life had just ended?

Slowly she turned and walked back to the kitchen. As she dressed an unexpected tear slid down her cheek.

With a sniff she wiped it away with the back of her hand, disgusted with herself for this display of weakness. If she was going to survive under Dare DeSouza’s roof she’d better develop a backbone.

And if she was going to survive a week with Robyn she’d better return to all she’d learned about suppressing her emotions.

Between Dare and Robyn she was going to have a heck of a time controlling those emotions. Under no circumstances could she afford to crumble in front of either one of them. She would have to call on all her reserves to survive the week. God help her.





Chapter 8





After a near sleepless night Dare headed out early the next morning. He’d scheduled a meeting with a private investigator and he was anxious to get an update on the findings.

When the man was ushered into his office at eight thirty that morning he was standing by the desk, ready for the news. He practically paced a trail into the carpet, waiting for him.

They shook hands then he offered Paul Ogilvie a seat. The big man’s frame swallowed up the chair.

He began without preamble. “I’m afraid it’s not good news, Mr. Desouza.”