“Get your hands off me right this minute, Adriane. I swear I will scream so loud, the walls of this palace will crumble,” she hissed, pulling from him and the hold he had on her, both physically and emotionally.
“Why should I? Your body knows what you want. I could easily take you, make you scream out my name in pleasure. Why should I consider your demands when you are uncaring of my needs?”
This time, as she struggled against him, he let her go. Spinning away, she took a moment to compose her features before turning back around.
“Yes, Adriane, you could probably seduce me. You could make me want you. Go right ahead. Do it. I will despise you forever when it’s over.”
The gleam in his eyes told her he was considering it.
Rachel needed to find out what kind of man he truly was.
“Maybe your hatred is worth getting both our needs met,” he said, his voice low and almost menacing.
“Fine, Adriane. Is that what you want?” Rachel said as she lifted her hands and began unbuttoning her blouse. “Do you want to sink inside me, take your pleasure?” She removed the garment, her chest heaving as she stood before him.
His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed in on her barely covered br**sts.
“Let me make this easy for you, shall I, my king?” She undid her pants and slid her hands into the waistband, scooting them downward so they pooled at her feet. She kicked them away and stood before him in nothing but her minuscule bra and panties.
“Don’t you want me, Adriane? Don’t you want to take what you think belongs to you?” she said, her voice close to tears, which only infuriated her more. “Here I am. You can prove what a man you are!”
Adriane stood stock still as he took in her nearly na**d body. Below the waist, he offered clear evidence that he wasn’t unaffected.
With deliberate steps, he approached her, and Rachel’s heart shattered. He was a monster. How could he possibly do this? The worst part was that, despite her fathomless pain and horror at his callous approach, she also knew he would most likely bring her pleasure.
No matter what, she would despise him, never be able to look at him the same way again. Maybe that’s what she needed. Maybe this was what had to happen for her to give up on him.
Adriane’s arms slipped around her na**d back, making her flesh quiver. Yet she refused to back down. Lifting her chin defiantly, she peered up into his eyes, waiting for the attack she knew was coming.
“Even in fury, you heat my body, nearly make me come undone,” he said, the corners of his lips turning up as he gazed at her. “I am furious with you right now, but I am no fool. I won’t play your game, though I will burn all night because of it. To make sure you burn just as much, I will leave you with a little something.” He bent his head and locked his mouth with hers.
Rachel lifted her arms, intent on pushing him back. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t allow him to touch her, no matter what she’d said, no matter what she’d done in the heat of the moment. Why had she performed her impulsive striptease?
As his tongue demanded entrance into her mouth, she held out, keeping her lips locked tightly together. He didn’t seem fazed.
He slid his fingers down her back, gripping her bu**ocks and pulling her tightly against his thickness, centering her core on his arousal and making her gasp as he bit down on her bottom lip. His tongue achieved its objective.
After seconds, hours, days — who knew? — he pulled back, steadying her before he let go and stepped over to the refreshment cabinet in her room. He poured himself a full glass of whiskey, quickly downing it before he turned back around.
Much to her shame, she could feel the hardness of her ni**les straining to be free, and she also felt her panties grow wet. She only hoped he couldn’t see how turned on she was.
“I’ll be in my chamber. One call, and I can end the torment you’re putting us both through. As for the wedding…” He smiled — actually smiled at her. “It’s going to happen. You can come willingly, or you can fight it, but you will be my wife.”
With those words, he turned and walked toward the door. Rage filled her to the breaking point. She didn’t know if it was his rejection or his threat, but fury fueled her.
Stepping forward, she grabbed the glass he’d just set down, the ridiculously expensive crystal glass, and threw it, without taking a single second to think about what she was doing. It shattered against the door, inches from his head.
Adriane jumped back, then turned around and looked at her with shock. And then, much to her horror, he laughed. A real, deep, stomach-jolting kind of laugh.
Rachel debated launching herself at him and scratching his eyes out. As if he could see what she was thinking, he stopped laughing, though the spark in his eyes didn’t fade in the least.
“Thank you, Rachel. You have made my night.” He turned away and twisted the doorknob, his foot crunching on the recently broken crystal.
“Don’t you dare walk from this room until we are finished!”
“Unless you plan to follow through on your offer of going to bed with me, I’m leaving now. What will it be, Rachel? Do we finally make love again, or do I walk through this door?”
“It’s not making love when you hate the person!” she snapped, stooping down and grabbing her blouse and flinging it around her shoulders. She suddenly felt far too exposed.
“Ah, baby, something that feels as good as it does when we come together is always making love.” His eyes scanned her torso before she snapped the edges of the shirt together, covering that part of her body from his view. “Pity. You should always just…stay naked,” he added.
“You really are a pig, Adriane.”
“I haven’t claimed to be anything else.”
With that he opened the door.
“The wedding won’t happen,” she shouted before he could shut the door.
“It will. One way or the other, you will be standing at the altar with me.”
And with that, he turned away and walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving her standing there trembling.
From rage.
From lust.
From so many emotions, she couldn’t name them all.
She was leaving. That was the last straw.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ADRIANE THREW OFF his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and paced. More pacing. He was always pacing nowadays. What was wrong with the woman? She wanted him, it was obvious, but she continued to fight herself.