The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(43)

But oh, and she shivered again, a ripple of helpless response as his thumb stroked over and over that little sensitive pulse point on her wrist. Problem was, that little sensitive spot seemed to be growing. Her whole arm had come alive, her skin flushed, her body tensing in protest.



Delicious protest.



Tally’s brows pulled, flattened. Damn him. How could she ever respect him if he didn’t even let her respect herself? A man that broke down her defenses with touch—with pleasure—well, that was just wrong.



They should talk. Converse. Even play a game of chess. But touch? So brutally unfair.



“And if I hadn’t kidnapped you? You’d like me then?”



She couldn’t meet his eye. “Maybe.”



“Woman, I think not,” he scoffed.



Woman.She clenched her teeth. Why did he still call her that? He knew she hated it. He knew she hated his chauvinistic attitude, but did he change? No. Would he ever change?No.



“You’re right,” she fumed. “Even if I’d met you at a cocktail party at the Barakan Embassy I wouldn’t like you. It’s not political. It’s personal, completely personal. You’re everything I don’t like in a man. Hard, mean-spirited, bullying.”



She paused for breath before continuing. “A man should never try to dominate a woman and yet that’s all you do. Dominate and push me around.”



He leaned toward her, closing the distance so that she felt the warmth of his skin, the tension crackling between them. “I’ve saved you, too.”



His mouth was so close, his lips just there above hers and she felt a sharp lance of pain, and it surprised her, the cut and twist in her chest and belly. Wrenched, that’s how she felt. Wrenched.



“You were the one that put me in danger,” she protested, voice hoarse. “It’s only fair you saved me.”



“I didn’t put you in danger.” He head dipped, his lips just missing hers to brush her cheek and then lightly touch the corner of her mouth. “You put yourself in danger by behaving in an emotional, impulsive, irrational manner.”



She wanted to jerk away, wanted to pull back and escape but the feel of his mouth against her skin was so seductive it confused her, held her, made her want more.



How could she still hate him and yet feel so good when he touched her? How could her mind reject him and yet her body came up with a totally different assessment?



“You are bad,” she whispered, voice thick, deep, tinged with a longing she couldn’t reconcile herself to.



“You must like bad.” He touched her face, fingers lightly stroking one cheek as his lips brushed the other.



“No.”



“Mmmm.”



She squeezed her eyes shut as silver streaks of sensation raced up and down her spine. “I’m good,” she insisted.



She felt rather than heard him laugh softly, felt the rise and fall of his chest, the muffled humor. “So you keep saying.”



She was just about to protest when his hands moved, and he cupped her jaw between his palms, holding her face up to him.



The air caught in Tally’s throat and she stared up at him wide-eyed. This was as fantastic as it was awful and like a deer caught in headlights, she waited, waited, spellbound for disaster to hit.



And it did.



His head dropped, his lips covered hers and in that instant his mouth touched hers, she exhaled, resistance disappearing as she gave in to his warmth and scent and skin.



His kiss was again right, absolutely right, and maybe she couldn’t marry him, and maybe she wouldn’t live with him, but God, he knew how to kiss her. His kiss was amazing. She’d hoped it was just the first kiss that she responded to, hoped that having kissed him once, she would have become immune to him. But no, no immunity here. If anything it was even better.



Tally felt his arm slide around her waist and pull her against him and it was so right. Exciting and yet comforting.



It made her think, imagine, that somehow in his arms she was home. That somehow right now, like this, she’d found the only place she needed to be.



And like that, cold reality intruded, and Tally pulled abruptly away.



She stared at him accusingly, seeing him through hazy eyes.“No.”



“No what?”



“No to everything.” And yet inexplicably tears burned the back of her eyes. “No, you can’t have me. No, I won’t stay. No, I won’t marry you. No.”



He looked at her a long level moment than shrugged. “So it’s a blue robe you want for the ceremony.”



“Tair.”



But he wasn’t listening. He was lifting her off his lap and now he was standing. “I shall see what we can do.”