Page 90 of Devil's Bride

She stood where she was, never blinking. Never flinching.

My patience was waning, the constant tick from the master clock on the fireplace mantel keeping my anger level high.

“Say something, Genevieve.”

Another round of silence.

“Talk to me.” I stormed toward her and she didn’t flinch one bit. “Damn it. I was worried about you.”

Finally, she looked away. “What’s there to say, Jago? That I approve of your plan?”

“Perhaps. Or just say whatever is on your mind.”

“I don’t think you’ll like what’s on my mind.”

“You were almost taken from me. That can’t happen. I won’t allow anyone to touch you. You were in danger and the men didn’t do their jobs.” My vehemence surprised even me.

“Do you hear yourself? I’m not a possession, a thing to be owned like your houses or cars. I’m a woman used to having command of her own life and in the last seven days, every aspect of my independence has been taken from me. Whoever walked into that dress shop had been waiting for an opportunity, but guess what? I plan on living. Emiliano didn’t deserve your wrath and you know it. Emiliano did what I asked, following my orders. You need to keep in mind he doesn’t know you. Certainly not like I do.”

I was so used to being in full control over everything that my brusqueness seemed all I was capable of right now. But with her, being arrogant only garnered me what I hated the most.

Silence.

This wasn’t a battle I could win, at least not in the method I was used to employing. Her appearance in my life had rattled everything in my existence. Every bit of control and order.

Every dark emotion and sadistic craving.

I wasn’t used to compromise, but there was no other choice.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have taken my anger and worry out on your man.”

Her laugh remained bitter. “He’s not my man, Jago. Is that what this is about? Jealousy?”

Something about her insolence excited me. Maybe because I was so used to pompous men blowing smoke up my ass and women throwing themselves in my direction. Yes, I was an arrogant bastard. With Genevieve, I was treated exactly like I should be.

An ass.

The thought brought a grin to my face and an instant boost to my libido. I could swear the woman knew what I was thinking. She shook her head, mumbling under her breath.

“I’m not jealous of your soldier, Genevieve. I am disappointed that he didn’t handle the situation as required.”

“By you. You seem to forget he takes directions from me.”

We were at an impasse, which wasn’t in our best interest. If we continued bickering, it would be much easier to pick us off one at a time. What troubled me was I’d never been forced to get through to someone by use of words, not violence.

My mind was distracted by her scent and the fresh flush of her face. Even after being accosted and almost kidnapped, she stillsmelled sweet, like strawberries. She also had the ability to cut through my bullshit easier than by using a knife.

I thought about two nights before. Her soft skin. The dark whimpers. The throaty moans. The way her body writhed under mine. She’d looked at me as if the rapture had been everything she’d dreamt of.

Now her blue eyes were staring at me as if I was a monster.

Still, through all her rebelliousness that thrilled me, I wondered if she realized how close she’d been to losing all she deemed precious.

“Yes, well, then you need a lesson in how to handle security,” I told her.

She shook her head. “Unbelievable. I can’t have a decent conversation with you, so why bother trying?”

“Because it’s necessary. Because the situation is dangerous. Because you’re in danger.”

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