Hate to Love You(32)

The controlled softness in his tone communicated his reaction to my taunt more effectively than a snarl. “Have you seen a man you want?”

I nodded.

“Who?”

“Jealous much?”

James started. “Don’t be ludicrous. I’m trying to watch out for you.”

“Too late for that I’m afraid, but don’t worry, all the men here are upper crust. They’ll say pretty please before they fuck me, right? Maybe I’ll screw more than one.”

Oh God, I’d done it now.

I gulped, wondering if James would burst out of his suit and turn into a green monster with massive pecs and an anger management problem. The only way out of the clearing was through the maze and the only way to the maze was through James. I controlled the urge to bolt as he stalked towards me.

Hey, why the hell was I backing away?

James didn’t own me, and he had no right to police me. His reaction was just as ludicrous as he’d accused me of being. Nevertheless, every instinct I possessed was telling me to turn off the belligerent slut and get the hell out of there. My bottom hit the rim of the crumbling fountain, forcing me to a stop. My heart thumped so hard I could hear it in my ears. I didn’t look down to see whether it had burst through my chest though. Matadors never take their eyes off the bull.

They up the ante.

I licked my lips. “Mmm. Maybe I’ll suck a few dicks while I’m at it.”

James loomed over me, glaring like he didn’t know whether to wash my mouth out with soap or use his tongue instead. I read him loud and clear. He was aroused and he was angry, wanting to yank my skirt up, fit himself inside me and make me swear not to screw anybody but him. And he couldn’t understand it. Hell, I couldn’t understand it either. It just was.#p#分页标题#e#

But at least I had the advantage of knowing that our bodies had laid claim to one another. With a primitive stake, by the look on his face, one that stabbed through the layers to pierce our basic instincts. His breathing was harsh and so was mine. The strain proved too much for the little crucifix pin over my breasts and the bolero popped open. I squared my shoulders and his eyes dropped to my breasts. My nipples were hard, poking through fabric that barely covered them.

“You look like you’re begging for it,” he sneered.

“No, I’m prowling, remember? Looking for a good lay.”

If he were a bull I think he would’ve bitten a large chunk out of me. “You’re not going to find one tonight!”

James’s hands were hot on my hips, fingers splayed. When had that happened? He didn’t even seem to notice how close our bodies were or how tightly he was digging into my skin. His eyes were glazed with jealousy. I shifted against him and he held me more tightly. Would I see hooves instead of human hands if I looked down?

James followed my gaze to his hands and cursed. He jerked his hands off me like I was a contagious disease and backed away. The slow, deep breaths he took were controlled but the look he gave me was so hungry I thought he’d forego the wedding feast to have me instead.

When he spoke he paused between each word, like a parent who’s reached the end of his tether.

“Put your coat on.”

“Why would I want to do that?” I said belligerently. “News flash, Jamie boy. I can do whatever I want and you can’t stop me.”

Silence.

Oh God, I hadn’t used that childish tone, had I? Said those bratty words? I’d just relegated myself to a stroppy kid who wants her own way. All I needed was to add “so there” to sound like seven-year-old Kai.

James’s superior look told me he agreed. “If you act like a brat you can expect to be treated like one.”

Ignoring my angry curses, he pulled the trench coat up my arms and yanked the sides together. He was in control now, adult to child. Overbearing and dictatorial, he showed me how naughty children were dealt with, buttoning me up as I struggled against him. He knotted the tie at my waist so tightly it felt like a straitjacket.

Seething, I glared at him with a mixture of anger and wounded pride. But I didn’t try to take off my coat. His face said he’d do it all over, and then he would win the battle of the trench and I would feel even more the chastised brat.

“You want me—that’s why you’re covering me up,” I jeered.

The man who’d turned into a jealous beast at the sight of my scantily clad body looked at me as if I were delusional. His tone was pitying. “I just married the only woman I want.”

I turned and looked at the faceless cherub. “You think Caroline is perfect, so compassionate and loving, but you have no idea who she really is. She’s cruel and hateful, without a bone of compassion or tenderness in her body. A social-climbing bitch who—”