Liars Like Us

34

If I’m going to sign a wedding contract that binds me to this man from here to eternity, I need to be clearheaded. For all I know, this is a ploy to get me to overlook some important clause in the paperwork.

I flatten my hands against his broad chest and push. When he doesn’t budge, I look up at him and set my jaw.

He says, “What are you doing?”

“Pushing you away.”

He glances down at my puny hands. “It doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Stop being horrible and stand back.”

“Why would I want to do that? Watching you work yourself into a froth up close is highly amusing.”

“I’m not frothing!”

“You’re unusually weak for someone with such a hot temper.”

“I’m not weak, and I’m not angry. Now move.”

Smiling at me, he murmurs, “Say please.”

I almost drop my hands right then and use them to tear all my hair out. Instead, I slide them up his chest on impulse and wrap them around his neck.

His big, warm, strong, stupid neck.

Gritting my teeth and staring into his eyes, I say, “I don’t care how many people you can summon at midnight on Christmas Eve to do your bidding, demon spawn, I’m not one of them. And if you don’t move away right now, we’ll see exactly how weak I am, because I’m gonna start squeezing. I won’t stop until you’re passed out on the floor.”

Into his eyes comes a look of such hot excitement and pure animal savagery, I almost pee my pants in terror.

He grips my hips, yanks me against him, and growls, “You better make sure you squeeze hard, schoolgirl, because if I’m not passed out in five seconds, I’ll throw you onto that desk, tear off your panties, and give you what we both know you need.”

Stunned, I stare at him with my mouth hanging open, my heart racing, and my n*****s growing hard.

Against my pelvis, his erection throbs.

He drops his blistering gaze to my mouth. Breathing erratically, he licks his lips. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of my hips. I’m either about to burst into flames or be devoured.

I say breathlessly, “Here’s where I remind you that you said you’d give me anything I wanted. Remember that?”

Still staring hungrily at my mouth, he growls, “I remember.”

“Good. Because what I want right now is for you to step back.”

His hot gaze flashes up to mine. “You scared of me, little lamb?”

“Call me a farm animal one more time, and your testicles pay the price. Step back.”

Instead of doing that, he resumes staring at my mouth like it’s a ripe apple he’s dying to sink his teeth into. The heat of his body burns me right through my clothes. He’s huge, hot, and immoveable, and if I don’t get away from him within seconds, I’m liable to c***k and crush my mouth to his.

That can’t happen.

Despite the heat pulsing between my thighs, I can’t kiss Callum. If I do, and it’s as good as I suspect it would be, I’ll end up liking it. And if I like it, I’ll want it to happen again. Multiple times. And what starts out as kissing turns into me catching feelings, which inevitably winds up with me having a broken heart.

The last few times I tripped and fell in love, it ended in disaster.

This time I’m going to keep my head straight, keep my panties on, and stay on the safe side of love by marrying a man for his money.

I look into his eyes and enunciate each word. “Step. Back. Or the deal. Is off.”

He says hotly, “You don’t want me to move.”

“I really do.”

“Don’t f*****g lie to me!”

Why does he have to smell so good? Why does he have to feel so good? And why, oh why, does he have to pester me to tell him the truth when we both know this will all be so much easier if I lie?

Oh, yeah. Because his bloodthirsty ego demands every woman within shouting distance throw themselves at his feet and beg to have his pretty, rich, entitled babies.

I smile sweetly up at him. “For every second you stand in that spot, I’ll add a million dollars to the contract.”

Thunderclouds descend over his head. He glowers at me, his jaw muscle popped out and his brows drawn together.

Oh, the thrill it gives me, making him mad. It’s perverse, but it’s good for him. The man needs someone in his life who doesn’t cower or swoon in his presence.

In fact, I’m probably doing a public service. I should get a tax credit for this.

“I could do this all day, billionaire. I’ll just keep on counting my money until you decide to move.”

A low, dangerous sound rumbles through his chest. It rumbles louder when I whisper, “You’re up another ten. Darling.”

He wrests himself away from me, whirls around, shoves his hands into his hair, and stands with his back to me and his hands on his head. He exhales hard.

The loss of his body heat chills me. Unsteady, I wrap my arms around myself and try to shake off the fog of s****l desire clouding my vision.

It’s a good thing I wore a b*a today, because otherwise the front of my blouse would be shredded by my n*****s. The damn things are so hard, they could etch glass.

When Callum turns back to face me, he’s got himself under control. His expression is placid. The fire in his eyes has cooled. The only thing that remains of his unexpected excitement is his disheveled hair, sticking on end where he tugged on it.

He says calmly, “Twenty million it is. Now let’s go sign the paperwork before one of us does something we’ll regret.”