“You are spectacular in anger, do you realize that?” he gasped as he met her halfway, then stopped, standing only a foot from her trembling body.
Why didn’t he just say, “You’re pretty when you’re mad?” His statement was bad enough, but she was angered further by the attraction she felt toward this man, a man who had taken her basic rights away. How pathetic. All she should have felt was contempt and outrage, not even the barest inkling of lust. But with his dark eyes crinkled at the corners, and his smooth shirt molded to his perfect chest, she was having a difficult time not appreciating his beauty.
Those midnight eyes were trained on her right then, and the heat pouring from them was enough to singe her skin.
Leaning her head toward the floor, Rachel inhaled, trying to get her temper and her hormones under control before she spoke again. To continue yelling at him obviously wasn’t going to do her any good, so it would be best if she tried another tactic. Maybe she could make him see reason.
Through gritted teeth, she began: “You bring me to your country and then I wake up and am left in this room for hours! Your loyal servants have tried to force-feed me all afternoon, but no one will speak to me, let me near a phone, or give me any answers. I’m getting more and more irritated by the minute, and according to your doctor, that’s a bad thing, so you need to back the hell off.”
Darn. Though she’d tried controlling her temper, she wasn’t doing very well. Yet if she didn’t get to a phone soon, her fury was going to spike another few notches.
“I do apologize for not being here when you woke from your nap. I had some matters of state to attend to. They’ve all been taken care of, so for the rest of the night, you have my undivided attention,” he said, as if that were something she wanted.
Rachel’s mouth hung open.
“Are you expecting my gratitude because you are granting me — a measly peasant — your undivided attention? Are you kidding me, Adriane?” she snapped.
His carefree expression evaporated; his lips thinned and his dark eyes narrowed. King Adriane obviously didn’t like to be mocked or spoken back to. Well, too damn bad!
“You would be wise to try to hold your tongue instead of just letting any asinine statement pop from your beautiful lips.” He tried to look down at her with a sneer, but he had to fight the smile that was twisting his mouth in the wrong direction.
“That’s it!” Rachel shot over to grab the vase. It was going straight for his head.
“I don’t think so, Rachel.” Adriane easily caught her and held her hands trapped against his chest as he pulled her to him.
She leaned her head back so her glare would hit his eyes dead-on.
“I’ve had enough, Adriane. I mean it,” she warned him, almost hyperventilating. She chose to believe it was from her temper alone and had nothing whatsoever to do with being pressed up snugly against his hard body.
“Oh, Rachel. You haven’t had nearly enough of me. I don’t think either of us can possibly get enough of each other,” he said, his tone silky smooth as he lowered his head, bringing his mouth just a centimeter away from hers.
“Don’t you dare kiss me, Adriane. Believe me, you will regret it,” she said, struggling against him.
To her surprise, he released her, and Rachel stumbled backward before regaining her footing. She looked at him suspiciously before she searched the room with her eyes and spotted a door that was cracked open — the secret door he must have snuck through.
“I wouldn’t try it. I’m not letting you leave.”
The foot that was lifting to make a run for it dropped as she looked at him. “You can’t keep me prisoner, Adriane. I have family and friends who won’t stop until they see me safely home.”
“I’ve already spoken with your brother. We came to an…understanding,” he said with a slight wince.
“What do you mean?” she asked. Surely Rafe wouldn’t allow this to happen.
“We have a week to work out our differences before he storms the island with the United States military,” he said with a chuckle.
“What? He’s not coming to get me for an entire week?” Rachel gasped, feeling utterly betrayed.
“Don’t get me wrong, Rachel. It wasn’t easy to convince him that you were being well taken care of. He had to speak to my doctor, adviser and prime minister. It helped that both Ari and your sister felt we should try to work this out. I think I quite like them.”
“Those traitors,” Rachel gasped, and she now looked for a phone.
When she managed to speak to her family, they were all in serious trouble. How dare they leave her with this pompous jerk of a man?
“I don’t believe you,” she said. It couldn’t be true.
“It really doesn’t matter. If you are still opposed to our marriage in one week, then it looks as if Corythia is going to war,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Rachel stared at him in horror before her eyes narrowed again. There was no way the country would go to war. Yes, there could be an international incident, but Corythia was small and this matter wouldn’t cause a war. If it did, they’d be wiped out instantly. Adriane wasn’t that stupid.
“I am not an uneducated woman, Adriane, and I don’t appreciate you treating me as such. If you want a war, I sure as hell will give you one,” she promised with fire shooting from her eyes.
“I’m up for the challenge,” he said boldly, taking another step closer.
A little over three months ago, she hadn’t wanted to crawl from this man’s bed. Now, he had changed into a person she didn’t know and certainly didn’t like. He was arrogant and unfathomable, and he was holding her captive.
Why then was her stomach knotted with a strange desire? She should want to bash him over the head with any blunt object that came to hand and flee his presence; to feel even the remotest form of passion for him was just bizarre.
Still, she was stuck here for the time being, with no idea precisely where she was. Did she continue to fight him, or did she try to win back her freedom another way? She needed to think. Obviously she was all on her own.
That was a depressing thought.
“How do you think this can work, Adriane?” she asked. Maybe he’d see reason.
“I want it to work; therefore it will,” he stated firmly. He spoke as if his words were law. Of course, here in Corythia, what he said probably was law.
“I was raised in both Italy and America so you’re not my king. I’m sorry, but I don’t allow dictators to tell me what to do. I make my own decisions. I certainly won’t marry a man because he demands it or tells me that’s the way it’s going to be. You will release me, and then, and only then, will I consider what I will do next. Right now, you aren’t gaining any points with me in the father department. I won’t be jerked around just because I’m your living incubator. Do you understand me?”