I’mfive minutes late on purpose. I mean, I’m not the kind of woman to work to someone else’s schedule unless they deserve that right. Joseph Ravera does not. He is cold, unfeeling, and belligerent. He hasn’t exactly made me feel very welcome, and if anything, I’m merely an inconvenience to him—that’s obvious.
He has the audacity to glance pointedly at his wristwatch as I enter the dining room, and I roll my eyes as I slip into the seat as far away from his as possible.
“You are five minutes late, Tiffany. Don’t you know how to tell the time, or must I teach you that as well?”
I ignore him. Lifting the pot of tea that sits in a silver teapot, not even glancing in his direction because if I did, I would be mesmerized.
It struck me as soon as I entered the room. He is a presence that demands recognition. His ominous good looks like an imaginary cupid’s arrow, daring you to gaze on the beast and forever be smitten.
His dark beauty unravels even the most unwilling mind. His intense observation causes the heat to build and principles todry in my throat. I am not immune to him. He fascinates me, and yet I want to hate him—perhaps I do already.
He is everything I never wanted in a man, and yet someone please tell my body that because I purr like a kitten, the minute he gazes in my direction. My heart pounds, my sweat glides and my traitorous body bends to his will, and so I have decided that ignoring him as if he isn’t here could well be the safest option.
I jump when he stands, and before I can react, he is at my side, gripping my wrist, pulling me from the chair, the tea spilling on the white tablecloth as my hand catches the edge of the cup.
“What are you doing?”
I gasp as he pulls me hard against him, his hand twisting in my hair, holding my face mere inches from his as his dark eyes power down to my soul.
His lips are crushed against mine, his tongue staging an invasion I never realized I’d welcome. My heart races as he kisses me hard, sexy as fuck and as if he can’t breathe without my help.
My mind explodes as I respond against my wishes, any armor I tentatively put in place falling in a heap at my feet.
I respond, loving the attention. The attention of a man like him. Strong, capable, and sexy as sin.
He pulls away, his hand cupping my face as those dark eyes power down to my soul and he whispers, “Now that I have your attention, princess, shall we start again?”
I bite my bottom lip in confusion, my heart racing as my blood tears through my body like an electric current.
I’m shocked when he leans forward and drags my lip between his teeth, biting down softly, sucking the soft flesh. It’s an erotic kiss I wasn’t expecting, and heat floods my core as my traitorous body opens like a flower in the sun.
His words caress my mind as he whispers, “There is nothing like the taste of innocence.”
Says the devil to the angel.
My mind is playing tricks on me as I imagine I like this. I want this and am okay with this. How can I be? This situation is a mindfuck and yet I’m loving the danger, the attention and the pure wickedness of what’s happening in my life right now.
I couldn’t pull away if I tried. I should. I should slap him hard and run. This situation isn’t normal, and he definitely isn’t normal, but right now this is my normal, and I’m shocked to discover I’m good with that.
CHAPTER 17
JOSEPH
It appears that I don’t like to be ignored.
The moment she disregarded me, it irritated the shit out of me. The fact that she walked into the room like every wet dream I ever had wasn’t lost on me. I selected the smart suit as a statement. This wedding is not a fairy tale for either of us and doesn’t deserve the huge dress and flowers. It’s business, nothing more, but fuck me, did she rock that Chanel suit.
Tiffany is a beautiful woman, and she doesn’t even realize that. Her air is of boredom, not vanity. Her eyes flash with unspoken insults, and yet her face resembles an angel. She has passion she doesn’t know how to use to her advantage, and I didn’t miss how my cock hardened the minute she entered the room.
I want her.
I’m surprised at that. It wasn’t just her body either. I wanted her attention. A soft smile in my direction. A glimmer of affection, perhaps. It’s cold outside and freezing in my heart because I keep the temperature turned down for a very good reason.
I don’t deserve to be here. To be alive, and I am extremely mindful of that.
So, I live in death. A machine, if you like, and yet when an angel walked into my life, I craved the warmth of the flame.
That is why I moved fast, why she is in my arms now, because I couldn’t help myself. I wanted the recognition, and I want her to want me.
