Angelique was made up, coiffed and poised when Remy came back to the suite. She felt much more in charge when she had her professional armour on. It seemed important to give Remy the impression their love-making had made little or no impact on her. But it was hard to ignore the way her senses jumped to attention as soon as he came in the door, even harder to ignore the way her skin tightened all over and the way her inner core contracted. ‘Nice walk?’ she said.
His espresso gaze moved over her in a lazy sweep that tightened her skin and her inner core another notch. ‘I wonder how long it would take me to get you out of that dress?’
She squared her shoulders even as her belly flipped over. ‘What happened before was a mistake. I’d rather not repeat it.’
A hint of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. ‘You’re not a very good liar, ma chérie. What happened before is going to happen again. And soon and often.’
Angelique felt a shiver course down her spine at the dark glitter of unbridled lust in his eyes. ‘I think it would be foolish to complicate things with that level of involvement. We don’t even like each other. It’s rather unseemly to be going at each other like wild animals.’
His smile tilted a little further. ‘Unseemly?’
She willed herself to hold his gaze for as long as she could. ‘Primitive.’
He closed the distance between them in an easy stride or two. She knew she should have stepped back but her feet seemed to be bolted to the floor. She drew in a sharp breath when he put a hand to the nape of her neck. His warm palm was slightly rough against her soft skin and a shower of sensations spiralled through her at the delicious contact.
His eyes were so dark they looked like bottomless black pools. His mouth was so sexy, so sensually contoured, her insides shifted restlessly and her own mouth started to tingle.
‘The thing is, ma belle, I feel very primitive when I’m around you.’ His hand cupped her left cheek, his thumb pad giving one stroke over her lips that sent every nerve into a frantic dance.
Angelique’s heart skipped a beat as his thighs brushed against hers. She felt the bulge of his erection. It spoke to everything that was female in her. Her senses were not sleeping or dormant now; they were wide awake and hungry for his touch. Ravenous. ‘Find yourself another plaything.’ She was really rather proud of how curt and cold she sounded. ‘I will not be used by you.’
His thumb pad moved back over her lips, his eyes still locked on hers. ‘Is that really what you want? To go back to a hands-off arrangement?’
No! ‘Yes.’ Angelique moistened her lips and tasted salty male. It was like tasting a powerfully addictive drug. She wanted more. Now. Right now.
His gaze searched hers for a pulsing moment. ‘Fine.’ He dropped his hand from her face and moved away.
Fine? She looked at him in numb shock. Fine? Why wasn’t he challenging her? Why wasn’t he making her eat her words? Damn it! She wanted him to make her eat her words!
He glanced at his designer watch. ‘We should get going. I don’t want to lose our booking; I had to pull some strings to get a table at such short notice.’
‘I find that very hard to believe.’ Angelique curled her lip as she picked up her purse. ‘The Caffarelli name can get you a table just about anywhere, I would’ve thought.’ Let’s see if I can push a few more of those buttons of his. ‘Maybe I’ll change mine and see if I can cash in on some of the benefits.’
His expression hardened to stone. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Angelique. This is not permanent. Don’t kid yourself that it will be anything but what it is right now.’
‘A war zone?’ she quipped.
‘Temporary.’ He held the door open with a pointed look. ‘Shall we?’
* * *
It was a popular restaurant owned and operated by one of Britain’s celebrity chefs, which meant it was a famous-person hot spot, so the paparazzi were nearly always on hand.
Angelique quailed at the thought of fending off another round of intrusive questions. She was a pretty good actor but any body-language expert worth his or her credentials would be able to see Remy was still angry with her. He hadn’t spoken a word to her during the short trip to the restaurant. He had spent the entire time tapping emails into his phone.
‘Couldn’t we have stayed and dined in the hotel?’ she asked as he helped her from the limousine.
‘No.’ His hand was firm as it took hers.
‘But surely we should be avoiding all this attention as much as possible?’ She gave him a pouty glance. ‘Anyway, what will people think? We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon. Eating’s supposed to be the last thing on our minds.’