Page 4 of Bitter Heat

“It’s what I know.”

“You know nothing.”

“If you don’t let me go, I swear to God I’ll—”

He propelled her backward. She landed against the wall hard enough to make her grunt. Her mind went blank with shock as he plastered his rock-hard body against hers. Her puffy jacket stopped her from discovering if he still had abs, but her jeans and thermal underwear did nothing to protect her from his bottom half. He dropped his hold on her throat and slid his hand into her tangled hair. Gripping it, he forced her head to tip sideways, baring her throat to him. One thick thigh pressed between her legs, forcing them to part.

“Roth, stop!”

He bit her. As her mind processed the pain, her shrill scream echoed down the hallway. She raised her hand to claw at his face, but he grabbed her wrist and yanked it down as he sucked hard enough to make her buck against him. The back of her neck was an erogenous zone he had discovered early on in their relationship. He reclaimed the spot as if they hadn’t been separated for years. Her free hand twisted in his suit as her eyes closed and her body went up in flames.

“Don’t,” she whispered hoarsely.

He cupped her ass and dragged her up his thigh, creating a friction that made her hiss.

“If you hadn’t run to your father, you’d still be mine.”

The rage and resentment she felt for him crumbled beneath a tidal wave of lust. She shuddered against him like a junkie, alternately wanting to claw his face off while also aching to feel him inside her. He would give it to her right here, right now—rough, dirty, raw—just the way she needed it. She came to Colorado to leave everything behind and forget just for a little while. Roth would leave her so sated she would feel nothing. Their chemistry had been explosive right from the start, but she had been too innocent to know how to combat what was happening between them. He used her curiosity to introduce her to dark, erotic fantasies that no self-respecting Hennessy should have.

Strands of Roth’s hair brushed against her jaw. He was wearing cologne, something familiar she had gotten a whiff of at the funeral. Roth never used to wear cologne or tailored suits and had been more likely to wear work boots with jeans and a button up. In the beginning, her father had been amused by Roth’s refusal to conform. That was before he learned of their affair. She thought she was going against the grain by marrying a man who hadn’t been born in her circles, but she was wrong. Roth was every bit as ruthless as her father. It just took a few years for him to afford to dress and smell like the men of her father’s caliber.

When she went boneless, he growled in approval. She wanted him so badly, she could taste him in her mouth. Body and mind clashed. She had to stop this before she made a monumental mistake she’d regret. What would her father think if he could see her now? That killed her buzz and brought back all the shit she had been trying to forget.

“You have to stop,” she whispered.

He ignored her and pressed in closer. She was losing the fight. In a last-ditch effort to hold on to a shred of her self-respect, she uttered the one thing she knew would get a reaction from him.

“Jamie, please.”

He went rigid against her and lifted his mouth from her skin. Uttering his nickname evoked memories she had buried long ago. No one was allowed to call him by his first name, so she gave him a ludicrous nickname and teased him unmercifully about it. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

“I want to go home,” she whispered, voice thick with tears as her emotions got the better of her. Weeks of stress caught up to her, leaving her depleted and fighting to keep her composure. It was all too much.

The thigh between her legs retreated so abruptly, she stumbled like a newborn foal. Before she could find her balance, a beefy hand manacled her wrist and began to drag her back the way she’d come.

“What are you doing?”

“We have to leave now before we get snowed in.”

She dragged her boots against the tiles in an effort to slow him down. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Airport’s closed until tomorrow, there’s nowhere to stay in town, and the snow’s coming down thick and heavy. We’re going to the cabin.”

“Youcan go to the cabin. I’m staying here.”

“They’ll kick you out.”

“I’ll sleep in the waiting room.”

“And chance being recognized? A picture like that could end up on tomorrow’s front page. I can see the headline now: Homeless Hennessy Heiress.”

“I don’t care!” She blamed her pitiful tone on the fact that it had been the day from hell. “Who do you think you are? You can’t—”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Not with me!”

“We’ll see about that.”

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