One Night: Sizzling Attraction: Married for Amari's Heir / Damaso Claims His Heir / Her Secret, His Duty

“That is...not what I expected you to say next.”

“Does it matter what you expected? Come and dance with me. It is not a request. Or have you forgotten that I still hold the power in this arrangement?” He was being an asshole, and he knew it. But he couldn’t seem to moderate his own behavior at the moment, and that was disconcerting.

“How could I forget, as you’re so good at reminding me?”

She was angry with him, but she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Allowed him to pull her close, so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. She even wrapped her arms around his neck, feigning compliance. But he knew that it wasn’t real. Knew that she was only pretending to be brought to heel. Probably so she could get close enough to him to strangle him.

He slid his hand down the curve of her lower back, to her ass, pushing her more tightly to him, allowing her to feel the arousal that was coursing through his body in spite of his anger. He was hard for her. But then, he was always hard for her.

She drew her head back, anger glittering in her eyes, even while her pupils expanded, her desire for him evident, as evident as her anger. Fine. He didn’t care if she liked him. He only needed her to want him.

“You don’t seem to care,” he said, moving them both in time with the music.

“Of course I care. A prisoner can never forget she’s in jail.”

The light of challenge in her eyes spurred him on. “But you are not in jail, my dear, or have you forgotten? You could be. But you are not.”

She lifted her chin, her expression haughty. “Am I supposed to get on my knees and thank you?”

“It all depends on what you intend to do while you’re down there.”

“Ensure that you’re incapable of fathering any more children?”

“Oh, we both know you won’t do that. That part of my body is far too valuable to you. As you have proven over the past week. Repeatedly.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You might not like me, Charity. But you can’t resist me.” He was driven to push her now, to strike out at her because the whole experience with Leon had burned him deep down in his chest and since he had no idea how to heal that pain, he had decided to keep on burning everything until he went numb.

“Keep talking. A few more well-placed phrases and I bet I’ll be able to resist you permanently.”

“We both know that isn’t true. If you couldn’t resist me that day at The Mark, you won’t be able to resist me now.” He said it as if it was a certainty, but really, it was a question. And he hated himself for feeling the need to ask it.

But he needed to know that he had her. That no matter what, she wouldn’t turn away from him. That he was as irresistible to her as she was to him.

“You seem determined to push me until I can.”

“Does it seem that way? That is not my intent.” Or perhaps it was. Something, anything to get a handle on his control.

Why did this woman test it? Shatter it?

“Then maybe you could try being nice for a while,” she said.

“I don’t know how to be nice,” he said. “I’ve never had to be.”

“You can start by not making death threats to men we meet at parties. And then you can finish by not behaving as though you have the right to control my actions.”

“I don’t think you understand, cara. You are mine.” He raised his hand and cupped her cheek. “And when someone tries to steal what is mine I do not respond kindly. Leon was treading on dangerous ground.”

“But I’m not an object, Rocco. He isn’t going to just pick me up and make off with me.”

“He might. He is a wealthy man. He would have a lot to offer you.”

“I thought I was priceless, Rocco. Why are you acting as though I can be bought?”

“You seemed interested,” he bit out.

“I’m not. Not in a man who won’t hold my hair when I throw up the morning after he’s spent the night holding me in his arms. And I’m insulted that you would think I might be tempted to go with him.”

He looked past her. “Why would I ever think differently? I don’t know you.”

“That’s insulting,” she said, her voice soft. Wounded. It touched him somewhere down deep, and he realized he was not yet numb. No matter how much he wished he were. “You know me better than anyone.”

Her words hit him with the force of a slap. “Do I?”

“How can you ask that? You’re the only man I’ve ever been with. You know that.”

“In my experience sex has nothing to do with how well you know someone.”

“Maybe not to you. But it does to me. I already told you why I was never with another man. I told you...I feel like you’ve been standing by watching as I discover who I am. How could you not know me?” Her eyes were luminous, filled with emotion.

Her words grabbed ahold of something inside of him and twisted hard. “I want to show you something.”

The open emotion transformed into a near-comical scowl. “If it’s your penis I’m going to go ahead and say no thank you.”

He laughed, somewhat reluctantly. He wasn’t sure how he could be so angry, aroused and amused all at once. He was not sure how he had wound up here, feeling like this, with a woman he had intended to hate. “Well, I will probably offer to show you that after. But that is not what I meant.” He didn’t know why he was making this offer, except perhaps as some kind of desperate last attempt to undo the damage he had done over the past half hour. To try and recapture the look on her face when he had given her the necklace. The look he had never deserved, the look he had proved he didn’t deserve only moments afterward.

Truly, feelings made no sense. And he was getting tired of having them.

“Okay, you can show me something,” she said, her expression softening. “Anything.”

Her words flooded his chest with a burst of warmth. “We’ll just finish this song then.”

And for the rest of the dance, he held her close. And they didn’t say anything. And for a few moments at least, he thought she might not just want him, but she might like him, too.

* * *

Charity wasn’t sure what had transpired between her and Rocco at the gala tonight. Yes, they had fought, but in some ways she felt closer to him now than she had before they had left the house. He had given her a gift. He had insulted her. He had made her feel things. Had made her angry, had made her happy, had made her sad. Like a miniature relationship ecosystem all contained in the ballroom of a hotel.

And now they were back at the villa. And she wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. There had been something strange in his tone when he’d told her he had something to show her. Strange enough that she’d been an idiot and tried to defuse the tension with humor.

Because she was still uncomfortable when things got close to the bone. When things got real, authentic. She was so accustomed to slipping on different masks, using them to shield her from anything unpleasant, that she seemed to default to it easily.

“What is it you want to show me?” she asked, pausing in the vast entryway.

“My things,” he said, the bland note in his voice betraying more than outward emotion. Because he was like her. He put a mask on most especially when he was feeling deeply. And that was what he had done the moment they had walked inside.

This was important to him.

She frowned. “What things?”

“All of them. Of course, you’ve been living in my home for the past week. So you have seen some. But...just come with me.”