Sensual Confessions - Brenda Jackson [76]
“Let it go, Sam. I’m not in a good mood. Just do what I ask.”
“No, I won’t do what you ask. My father’s name is Antonio DeAngelo Di Meglio and not Blade Madaris.”
Blade glanced down at the floor and counted to ten. He even muttered a few choice words. When he felt enough time had elapsed, he glanced back over at her. He studied her and saw the stubbornness etched in her face, and he saw something else, too—deep sexual frustration.
His heart began beating deeply within his chest. He knew the signs and should have picked up on them sooner. Their predicament was basically the same. They needed to get laid, but not with just anybody, only with each other.
Always with just each other.
He sucked in a deep breath, thinking how possessive that sounded. How final and absolute. He’d never thought about final and absolute with a woman in his entire life. All of a sudden a realization struck and it hit hard. If his feet hadn’t been planted firmly on the floor he probably would have been knocked over. He was feeling strong emotions toward a woman.
But this wasn’t just any woman. This was a woman who had proved she was different—difficult and different. Evidently that’s what he needed. And that’s what he’d been waiting for without knowing it.
He could vividly remember the night they’d met and all the times they’d seen each other since then. He had tried his luck with her, but instead of giving up, he had become almost obsessed with having her. He had convinced himself she was just another notch to add to his bedpost, and that his attraction to her was only sexual.
Now, ten months later, he hadn’t added her to his bedpost yet, mainly because she could never be just another notch. She was the one he had singled out without realizing he was doing so. The one woman he hadn’t gotten out of his mind since first seeing her. She was the woman who constantly invaded his dreams. The one who’d triggered an urgency within him that no other woman could match.
Over the years, he had been told, preached and even lectured to about what to expect when a Madaris man knew he had found the woman for him. The one he was meant to share his life with, his soul mate. And the one thing he’d always been told was that she would be different.
The one standing across the room glaring at him was different, all right. As fiery as they came and with an attitude that he would have to work on. And then there was that temper of hers from her Italian side of the family. He would let her keep it, just encourage her to tone it down some.
At that precise moment it was crystal clear why he’d been chasing her from the start, even after she’d dissed him a few times. Why he had looked for any excuse to come back to Oklahoma City to see her. Why he was living next door to her now. Why he had become her watchdog, determined to keep her safe. Why he had asked Alex to find out who was trying to hurt her. And why he had given up three hours of sleep this morning.
The reasons were as clear as the nose on his face. She was meant to be his. She was his. And he loved her with all the heated passion that was flowing through his body, all the torrid sensations that he felt—both sexual and nonsexual.
She would never believe the emotions he was feeling. Very few people who knew him would. He would have to show her rather than tell her, and eventually she would understand. He would make damn sure of it. But he definitely wouldn’t share his feelings with her yet. If he gave her an inkling of how he felt she would refuse to believe it, and would think it was his way of getting revenge. There was no doubt in his mind that she would put up a wall between them so high it might take him years to climb over it.
“Do you have a problem?”
Her words pulled him out of his daze. “A problem?” he asked.
“Yes, you’re just standing there staring at me like you have a problem.”
If she only knew. He leaned back