Claiming His Wedding Night

‘Your choice, sweetheart. The back seat.’ He smiled. ‘Or the boot.’

Her hand tightened on the fabric of her jacket. ‘Really! The boot? First you try and blackmail me—now you want to kidnap me!’

She watched the muscles in his arms swell against his beautifully tailored suit and instantly regretted her words. Knowing Malachi, he would have absolutely no qualms about tossing her into the boot of his car and, glancing down the street one last time, she made up her mind.

‘Fine,’ she said, through gritted teeth. ‘You can give me a lift.’

His eyes glittered with what looked to her horribly like triumph and, willing herself to hold her temper in check, she edged past him. ‘But just so you know—this doesn’t change anything.’

Fuming, she slid along the leather as far as possible until she was pressed against the frame of the door. Already she was regretting her acquiescence, for despite the warmth and sanctuary of the car her nerves were singing, her body painfully alert at the realisation that she was about to be alone and up close with Malachi. It was asking for trouble.

But it was also too late to change her mind.

As he got in beside her she breathed out slowly, her eyes narrowing as he calmly gave her address to the chauffeur.

‘Are you shivering or quivering?’

His voice broke into her thoughts and, turning, she scowled at him.

‘Why do you care?’

‘I was going to offer you my jacket.’

Her heart seemed to dissolve in her chest and a shivering heat crawled over her skin. ‘Well, I’m not cold,’ she said shortly. ‘So you don’t need to worry.’

‘In that case you must be quivering.’ He smiled. ‘Dare I hope that it has anything to do with me?’

She knew he was teasing her but that didn’t stop the sense of nervous unease she felt at his words. The sense that, despite her efforts to be poised and in control, she was making it transparently clear that her body still responded to him as it had always done.

Ignoring the burning in her cheeks, she lifted her chin. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Malachi, but it’s been a long time since I was susceptible to your charms,’ she said bitingly.

He tilted his head, his eyes skimming over her skin, sending ripples of heat in overlapping circles so that she was suddenly struggling to swallow.

‘It’s okay to admit it, sweetheart,’ he said softly. ‘I know you want me as desperately as I want you.’

Shoulders stiffening, she glared at him. Had he already forgotten his despicable and offensive proposal that she be his mistress? Probably. But knowing Malachi, he thought it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. She knew from painful personal experience that he was happy to exploit everything and everyone—even...especially...his own wife—for his own ends. Five years ago he’d used her image. Now he wanted to use her body.

The thought made her skin smart as though he’d slapped her.

‘Don’t flatter yourself. Right now I’m just desperate to get out of this car and away from you.’

Tipping his head back, Malachi laughed.

‘Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re stuck with me.’

‘Only for as long as it takes your driver to get me home,’ she snapped.

There was a short, pulsing silence, and through the rawness of her nerves she felt a drop of quicksilver shoot up her spine as he stared at her assessingly.

‘We’ll see.’

Her body was suddenly stiff and hollow and she felt a crack of fear open inside her.