Page 20 of Pride: The Rogue
Livian didn’t know whether to be offended or grateful.
The latter. She was definitely the latter.
Grasping on his disappointment with her, Livian at last eased her struggles. “If that is the case Mr.…”
“Latimer.”
He’d truly just offered hisname. Like they were two kindly strangers meeting for the first time. “You’re mad.” A drunkardanda madman.
“I’m more annoyed than angry at this point,” he muttered.
Even better.
Livian managed to find a place of calm as she spoke with him. “Given you’ve both expressed an annoyance with me and an interest in finding a woman who suits you more, might I suggest you do just that…” His eyes went black. “…For the both of us,” she added on a rush.
“You think I’m going to rape you,” he stated bluntly.
As his wasn’t a question, she opted to not answer. No, his query threatened to bring them back to an uglier, darker place she didn’t wish to descend with him.
When she remained silent, he snapped. “Well?”
Livian jumped. “I…”
“Never mind,” he clipped out.
Then, with a languid slowness, he lowered his frame the rest of the way until her breasts touched the wall of his built chest.
She couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping.
Her captor—Mr. Latimer—wasn’t done shrinking all space between them. He laid his brow against Raina’s so their eyes met.
“Let me tell you something, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I don’t rape women. The women I have in my bed, are ones who beg to be there.”
“That…” She highly doubted. “Is very reassuring.” With his aura of power and ruthlessness, he’d more likely rouse fear than desire in his bedpartners.
The hardened glint in his eyes indicated he’d caught her lie. “Don’t believe me, my lady?” he taunted.
Bloody hell. “I did not say that, Mr. Latimer,” she said with all the calm she could muster.
She’d never been good at prevaricating, which is why she’d always opted for silence when necessity required she fib to her sister. What’d made her open her mouth this time?
“Whether or not you believe it, fortunate enough for you, the last woman I’d ever make love to is a proper lady.”
Thistime, Livian wisely pressed her lips together and let him to his incorrectly drawn supposition about her birth station.
“Despite the way you, with your genteel sensibilities, twisted this exchange,” he said coolly. “I haven’t shown you violence.” He paused. “The only violence I show is the kind my lovers beg for.”
Women who…wanted violence? Her throat convulsed. Oh, yes. He was madder than a hatter. She truly did need to escape him.
Mr. Latimer eased his form up slightly.
He’d been waiting to see if she struck.
Somehow, when every instinct within urged her to fight, Livian somehow made herself remain still under him—opting for a different approach with the marauder.
In the end, she’d fought him as hard as she could and proven unsuccessful. Having since fatigued, she would certainly be no match against himnow.
Her hopeful thinking paid off.
