Fire and Ice - Anne Stuart [76]
She pushed herself to her feet, using the wall to brace herself. Reno would have heard her move, but he remained stretched out on the cot with deceptive laziness. He turned his head as she approached, his cool expression wary.
“Are you planning to beat me to death with a purse?” he asked, looking up at her.
It was tempting, but she’d abandoned her makeshift weapon. “Why are you afraid of me?” she said, her voice perfectly calm.
“I’m not afraid of anything or anyone.”
“Of course you are. Every time you get close to me you turn around and say something vicious. What do you think I’m going to do, cling so tightly that you can’t get free? Do you hate all the women you sleep with?”
He watched her, his eyes wary. “You’re not a woman I sleep with,” he said. “You’re not someone out for a good time with no strings attached, and that’s the only thing I’m interested in. The problem is,” he said, rising on his elbows to look at her out of his wicked eyes, “you’re just too tempting. If I’d just kept my hands off you in the first place, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But if you’ll remember, you asked me. Hell, you demanded. And I’ve never been the kind of man to resist an offer like that.”
“And last night?”
“I was bored.”
A knife, she pictured dreamily, stabbing straight into his heart. “It’s a great deal too bad that I shot the man who was about to kill you. I should have let him do it and saved myself a great deal of trauma.”
“You’d be dead, Ji-chan.”
“Then neither of us would have to worry, would we?”
“What do you want from me?” he asked. “Because I can tell you right now, whatever it is, I can’t give it.”
She was silent, looking down at him. His long body was stretched out on the cot, and his white shirt was unbuttoned. She could see the scrapes and bruises marring his smooth, golden skin, and she hoped each one of them was painful.
“I was going to say I want an apology, but come to think of it, even that’s not good enough. I want you to keep away from me. We’re related by marriage, but if we make an effort, we won’t have to be in the same room with each other once we get out of here.”
The slow smile that crossed his face was both ironic and fatalistic. “I don’t know if we’re getting out of here, Ji-chan. But I promise you, if we survive, you’ll never have to see me again. Does that satisfy you?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice cool. “Now, get the hell off the cot and let me sleep. I was here first—I claim rights to it.”
His soft laugh was as irritatingly seductive as always. Why didn’t he have a light, breathy voice? Why was his voice, whether he spoke English or Japanese, so distressingly deep and warm? Asshole.
He rose, and she backed away to make sure he wouldn’t brush against her. The instinctive retreat seemed to amuse him even more, and she wondered what would happen if she kicked him.
She knew what would happen. He’d already warned her—if she hit him again, he’d hit her back. If she kicked him, he’d put his hands on her, and then all hell would break loose. Because he wouldn’t hurt her, no matter how much he threatened. He’d put his hands on her, and then she’d be lost again.
“Thank you,” she said in a clipped voice, moving around him to stretch out on the cot. It was sheer will that kept her there, trying to look relaxed.
It was warm. Warm from his body. It was like a virtual embrace, his heat to the cot to her body. Goddamn it. And if she closed her eyes, it was even worse.
And then he was standing over the cot, and she froze, waiting for him to touch her. Why the hell had she demanded the cot? Was she asking for trouble? Was she wanting him to start this all over again?
“Here,” he said, yanking something from under her feet. It was the thin blanket they’d left,