She’d got a little more than she’d paid for on their wager, but the result was priceless. She’d sell everything to keep her child—her body, her heart, her soul.
Blake studied his bride-to-be and couldn’t decide what he wanted more—to shake her or to kiss her. Fired-up fury ran through his veins and he tried to ice it up. He’d been taken for a ride and he didn’t like it. But he was back in the driver’s seat and there he’d stay—in charge of the situation. He wouldn’t let her take the wheel again. They’d marry—a.s.a.p. and then he’d have her there right under his nose.
The sudden thought of Cally warming his bed night after night stirred his blood more. Then came the image of her lush, curvy body growing to bear the burden of his child—her head bent over a baby as she nursed it. The protective instinct rose all powerful. Masculine aggression flowed through his veins.
He would fight like the devil to keep his child, and its mother, safe from harm. He would fight her if she tried to block him, and he was quite happy to fight dirty.
He looked at the anger and uncertainty in her eyes—the passion that made the brown melt and mix with golden flecks. He saw the new bloom of colour in cheeks that had been so pale when he’d first arrived. He stared at her sulky mouth as it parted with her fast, short breaths and felt the pull in his groin. There was one way he could get her to say yes. One way he could get her to scream it.
But desire fogged his brain as well and he needed to keep focused. He’d be better to keep her out of his bed until she was there willingly—utterly willingly and for as long as he wanted. If he stayed in control now, he’d be able to retain the advantage. And he needed to do that until he had her firmly tethered to him.
When Paola had got pregnant he’d been powerless to do anything about it. He was not powerless now. And he’d keep it that way.
Cally had used him but at least she wanted the child. And now she’d got him in the bargain. A little more than she’d banked on, but he knew they could swing it to their advantage. They actually had a lot in common. Not least a sexual drive that matched nicely. Once they were through these negotiations they could have a lot of fun together. He decided to throw the thought into the fire. Test her reaction.
‘We deal together pretty well, Cally. You please me. I’m pretty sure I can please you. We can definitely work this out.’
Her breathing hitched again. ‘You think I’m going to sleep with you again?’
‘I know I want to sleep with you. I’m pretty sure you do too.’ He’d kiss her now just to prove it. Hell, he wanted to kiss her hard.
‘Why would I want to have sex with you when you’re forcing me into marriage?’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Cally. This isn’t a forced marriage or anything like it. What we have is a deal. A partnership.’
‘One that doesn’t include sex.’
He shrugged, inwardly smiling at the heightened colour in her cheeks. ‘You can say when it will be but, let me assure you, it will be.’
She opened her mouth and he knew she was about to make the ultimate protestation. He stopped her by laying his finger across her way-too-kissable lips.
‘Necrophilia’s not my thing. I believe your body will be very much alive and willing.’
Her teeth snapped on empty air.
He was right about this being a deal. That was how to handle it—as a business proposition—albeit unconventional. He could concede her a partnership—eighty-twenty with him holding the majority stake. They both had good business sense. They could make this work. And be satisfied. Very satisfied.
He looked across at her and could see her mentally hunting for a weapon—something, anything to make him withdraw. She was out of luck because nothing she could say would sway him.
Her eyes turned bitter as defeat approached. ‘I can’t be with someone who’ll be unfaithful.’
Black anger blinded him for a moment. God, she could be a bitch. How little she knew him. Well, he grimaced, she had a lifetime to get to know him and how he meant it when he said he was honest. He very nearly swore at her some more, but his jaw clamped when he spotted the vulnerability in her eyes. She could say what she liked, but her eyes always told him the real story. Right now this was one angry woman who was just that little bit scared—that little bit hurt. That little bit got to him. He wanted her to be in his keeping, but he didn’t want her hurt or afraid.
He took a deep breath. ‘I have never been with more than one woman at a time. And I never will. When I promise to be faithful to you, rest assured, I will be.’
Something flashed in her eyes and he fancied it was disbelief. Fine. He’d prove it. He had plenty of time to. Anger came surging back as he thought of something so distasteful every muscle in his body clenched. ‘And I totally expect the same from you.’ He thought he knew why the idea was so abhorrent. ‘I will not have my child exposed to infidelity or have you parade a string of unsuitable boyfriends before it.’
Unsuitable boyfriends?
Suddenly Cally was the one who was angry. ‘I don’t cheat.’ She forced the words at him.
‘Good. Keep it that way.’
She opened her mouth. Shut it again. And concentrated hard on keeping her grip, only just restraining the urge to hit him—an urge she’d only ever had once in her life before, about five minutes ago.
She watched as he too tried to keep his cool. The silence was thick as frustration and sheer rage were mirrored in each other’s eyes. And the worst of it was that the primary source of Cally’s anger was that she still wanted him. His closeness, his presence had her yearning for him. It was that ‘conquering ferocious man’ thing again. The place between her thighs was all softness and wet. She wanted to take his hardness deep inside and squeeze the tension from both of them. He was so appallingly attractive—even now. She wanted to rid herself of her extreme physical need by rubbing against him in an extremely physical way. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples so hard it was almost painful. She pressed the tops of her thighs together trying to get rid of some of the energy by clamping the muscles, stopping the urge to rock her hips forward.
And he knew. The green in his eyes glowed as relentlessly he stared at her. The tension zinged along the invisible cord pulling them together.
‘Very alive. Very willing,’ he murmured.
She had to suppress it, this almost insane urge to sleep with him. The drive to make him lose control and surrender to her—because she knew it wouldn’t really be him surrendering, it would be her. And how she wanted it—the weight of him as he shuddered in her arms, filling her completely, driving against her, into her—hot, sweaty, hard sex over and over.
No way, no way, no way. He thought she’d tricked him and now he was railroading her into marrying him. She could not, would not sleep with him. Mind over matter.
‘I think it’s time you left.’ Shaking and low, her voice was almost inaudible.
‘And it’s time you thought through your options. There’s only one, you know. I’ll be back, Cally.’ He swung back and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her. Either that or commit some act of violence. He did neither. Instead he spoke, rough and commanding. ‘Take care.’
CHAPTER NINE
BLAKE was back first thing. Demanding Cally find her birth certificate. Unable to muster a hint of defiance so early in the morning when her stomach had her feeling as if she were on a small dinghy in a wildly pitching sea, she simply turned and started walking. He followed her to the small office area, watched as she took her certificate from the filing cabinet.
He watched with a wry smile. ‘I knew you’d have your papers in good order.’
She stared back