When Cassie didn’t come down for her dinner that night, Emanuel was sent up with a tray. Maria had outdone herself in preparing several of Cassie’s favorite dishes. Well, she’d had the time, since she hadn’t had to clean up any blood yet. And the housekeeper had either been listening to or guessed what had happened. But Cassie barely picked at the offerings.
She did a lot of pacing, with Marabelle prowling right alongside her and nearly tripping her a half-dozen times. As usual, the panther sensed her upset and wouldn’t settle down until Cassie did. But Cassie was a bundle of nerves, wondering if Angel had left the house, wondering what he was going to do— and to whom. It was impossible for her to sit down, much less think of going to bed yet.
When the knock came at the door, she was so deep in thought she didn’t think twice about opening it, assuming the person was Emanuel returning for the tray. It wasn’t.
“Didn’t think you’d open up to me,” Angel said.
She wouldn’t have if she’d known it was him. And she would have immediately closed the door again if he hadn’t taken a step forward so she’d end up smashing him if she tried it. She didn’t. She started backing up instead. She seemed to do a lot of that when he was around.
He must want his gun. No, he couldn’t know she had it. He probably wanted hers. She had to talk him out of whatever he was going to do — somehow.
“You must have been hungry.”
She followed his gaze to the empty tray. “Marabelle was,” she replied, not trusting for a minute the mellow tone he was using. “Look, can we talk about this?”
“Sure — after you get rid of the cat.”
Marabelle was sitting on her haunches next to Cassie. The last thing Cassie wanted to do, knowing Angel’s wariness of the panther, was to send her out of the room. But she supposed a peace offering would be more appropriate now, so she led the big cat to the door and shooed her off. Angel had stepped farther into the room to get out of Marabelle’s path.
Cassie closed the door, but stayed near it. Angel had been in her room only once before. She remembered that night and felt flutterings in her belly. And he was staring at her bed. Why was he staring at her bed?
She took a deep breath and began to speak conversationally, hoping to set the tone at a rational level. “You know, you really don’t have to kill anyone over this. I’ll get an annulment. It will be like it never happened.”
His eyes came to her, briefly meeting her gaze before dropping to her mouth. “You’ll have to make that a divorce instead.”
“No, you don’t understand. An annulment will be much easier to obtain.”
His gaze locked with hers now. Cassie became slightly breathless with the intensity of his stare.
“Not after tonight it won’t,” he said in his slow, mesmerizing drawl.
“Why?” She barely got the word out.
“Because I’m in the mood to play husband.”
“You’re what?”
He started toward her. She was too stunned to move, so he was there and reaching for her before she had time to even think about running.
“We’re having a wedding night,” he said as he lifted her off her feet.
“Wait—!”
“Not this time, honey. I didn’t ask you to marry me. You would have said no if I had. Yet we’re married, and right now I want you bad enough to take advantage of that.”
Cassie wasn’t given another opportunity to protest, not for a while anyway. Angel no sooner laid her on the bed than his body came down to pin her there, and his kiss captured her full attention, fiercely taking, tenderly giving. Pleasure came swiftly, aided by his weight pressing her in intimate places. She was helpless to resist it or him, and then she didn’t want to.
It was a magical word, “married.” It gave permission to enjoy, taking away the guilt and most of the fear. It also removed inhibitions, so that she could hold him and kiss him back. And when she did, she reveled in the sound of his groan as he understood she wouldn’t be stopping him this time.
He wanted her, for whatever reason, revenge or desire, she didn’t care. Nothing mattered then except the need they shared, and Cassie definitely shared it. Like fire it was, the feeling that grew inside her. It was so consuming she barely noticed when he started undressing her, until his hands were reaching bare flesh, and she couldn’t help noticing that, it was such a sensual shock. But there were more shocks to come, for he was soon touching her everywhere. And then the warmth, skin on skin, and his lips suddenly closing on a turgid nipple to suck it deep into his mouth.
Such incredible heat in contrast to the silky coolness of his hair as it trailed over her skin.
Her back arched off the bed. Her breath was coming in short bursts. She held his head in her hands, his waist between her legs, and the intensity of what she was feeling now made her want to scream. She didn’t, not yet. But something continued to build deep in her loins, something hot and achy and out of control.
Then suddenly he was slipping out of her hold. His hands molded to her breasts as his tongue licked a path straight down her belly to — no, he wouldn’t. Oh, God, he did. The protest came and died on the same breath, because in the next instant there was an explosion of pulsating pleasure that reared her off the bed, leaving her caught in a realm of pure sensation. It was beyond reality, beyond comprehension, and she was helpless to do anything but ride it out to the last blissful pulsebeat.
She was wrapped in his arms by then, his sleek musculature molded to her, his weight a surprising comfort. But a new sensation intruded on her languor, an invasion that had her tensing. Yet fear didn’t have time to take hold. She was warm and wet, and his entry was so smooth, there was only the tiniest bit of pressure to denote the breaking of her maidenhead before he was filling her fully, deeply.
He reared back then, straightening his arms to brace them on either side of her, embedding himself even deeper inside her. But when she opened her eyes, it was to find him staring down at her, just staring, his eyes so dark, so intense.
“You can’t imagine how much I’ve wanted this — wanted you.”
No, she couldn’t. She could still scarcely believe it. And she couldn’t reply. She held her breath, watching him look his fill. He didn’t move, only his eyes, and a tingling returned to her breasts as he stared at them, the fluttering stirred in her belly when he looked there, and where they were joined, the heat came back in a rush.
“Oh, God,” she gasped.
He smiled, and began a slow, sensuous thrusting. He lowered his head to kiss her. Her lips clung to his, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, and tighter still as the tension mounted again. And then the throbbing was back, bursting over her senses, surrounding him, and he plunged deep, grinding into her, enhancing it, his own head thrown back to emit a low, animal sound of pure pleasure.