Never Gamble with a Caffarelli(17)

He scraped the same hand through the thick black tousle of his hair and turned to glare at her. ‘You should’ve woken me.’

She arched a brow. ‘So you really can do it in your sleep.’

He gave her an irritated frown. ‘Looks like you were running on automatic pilot as well. When were you going to call a halt?’

Some little demon inside Angelique decided it was time to rattle his cage for a change. She gave him a sultry look from beneath her lashes, her 1950s Hollywood movie-star look. ‘Maybe I wasn’t.’

A cynical look came into his eyes and his mouth hardened. ‘It won’t work, Angelique. I’m not staying married to you for a minute longer than I have to, so you can forget about your plans to snare yourself a rich husband. I’m not playing ball.’

She decided to press him a little further. This was so much fun! She had never seen him look quite so furious. His jaw was clenched and his hands were fisted. Where was his puerile sense of humour now? ‘But you want me. You can hardly deny that.’ She glanced at the tented fabric of his boxer shorts before giving him another smouldering smile.

His brows snapped together. ‘You are such a piece of work. Is this how you hook your claws into every man who crosses your path?’

Angelique slowly stroked her right foot down over her left ankle, her chest arched back as she rested on her elbows. ‘You’re hardly one to talk. Women run each other down to get into your bed. I didn’t run to get here. I didn’t even walk. I got here by default.’

‘And now you’re getting out of it.’ He stepped forward and ripped the bed linen off her like a magician pulling a cloth from a table.

Angelique gave a startled squeal as he grabbed one of her ankles and tugged her towards him. ‘Get your hands off me!’

‘That’s not what you were saying a minute ago.’ He pulled her upright but she stumbled and would have fallen except for his arms coming around her to steady her.

She thought he would let her go but he didn’t. If anything his firm grip on her hips tightened. She felt every imprint of his fingers pressing into her skin; she even wondered if they would leave marks.

She looked at his mouth, always a big mistake, but there you go. She couldn’t seem to help herself. Her gaze was drawn like a tiny piece of metal to a powerful magnet.

Their bodies were touching, feeling, discovering each other’s contours.

Angelique felt the heft, weight and heat of his erection pressing against her belly. It stirred her senses into a madcap frenzy of longing that took over her whole body. She felt the rush of heat from her core, the liquid of lust that was outside of her control.

‘This is not what I want,’ he ground out but still he didn’t let her go.

‘I don’t want it either.’ You liar. You do want it. You want him.

He suddenly put her from him, stepping back and raking a hand through his hair again. ‘OK... Let’s get some time out here.’

Time out?

I want time in!

Angelique’s little demon wasn’t quite ready to back down. ‘You’re scared. You’re worried you might get to like having me around, aren’t you, Remy? You’re not used to that feeling. You’re the one who hires and fires your bedmates week by week. You don’t form lasting attachments. You form convenient, casual alliances that temporarily scratch your itch.’

He glowered at her again. ‘I do not want you around. You’re nothing but trouble. You attract it and you revel in it. I don’t want it.’

‘Then give me back Tarrantloch and I’ll be out of your life as soon as you can say blackjack.’

The silence vibrated with palpable tension.

‘No.’ His one-word answer was clipped and determined. Very determined. Caffarelli determined.

Angelique hitched up her chin. ‘Then you’re stuck with me. I’m not leaving your side until you give me what I want.’

‘You don’t want Tarrantloch.’ His lip curled mockingly. ‘What you want is a pat on the back from your father.’

‘Ha ha,’ she scoffed. ‘And what you want is a big tick of approval from your grandfather. You think by taking possession of Tarrantloch that it will somehow win favour with him.’

He gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘I do not need my aging grandfather’s approval to get on in life. I’ve made my own way. I don’t need anyone’s tick of approval to be happy.’

‘You’re not happy. That’s why you’re so restless. You can’t settle because you’re not happy with who you are on the inside.’ Just like I’m not happy.

His eyes flashed with ire. ‘Oh, and you’re an expert on that, are you? The woman who doesn’t eat in case she puts on a gram of flesh. Don’t make me laugh.’