Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [21]
“But why?” she asked distractedly. “You can't just arbitrarily refuse without giving me a reason.”
His eyes narrowed to steely slits, and she knew she had angered him. He carefully put his unfinished drink on the bar, and said coolly. “You want to know my reason, Brenna? Then you shall have it.” He crossed the space between them in three swift strides. “You're pushing me, Brenna. I hoped to have more time,” he said softly.
“What do you mean?” she faltered, breathless at his sudden proximity.
He shrugged, the black knit of his sweater straining over powerful shoulders. “You're not ready for this yet,” he said calmly, “but I'm tired of playing games.” He looked directly into her eyes, and said deliberately, “I don't want your child here, because it drives me crazy to see you with him.”
Brenna couldn't understand this incredible statement, and she looked up at him in total bewilderment. His two hands reached up to cup her face. “You see, I've discovered you were abysmally wrong about the type of woman that turns me on,” he said huskily. “I want you, Brenna.”
She felt as if she were being hypnotized by those piercing eyes that held her in a magnetic thrall. He was so close that she could feel the vibrant warmth emanating from him, the smell, the clean scent of soap and the indescribable essence of the male animal. “No,” she cried, her eyes clinging to his. “It's crazy!”
“Do you think I don't know that?” he asked savagely. “Do you think I go around seducing twenty-year-old girls as a matter of course? I don't like this one iota.” He drew a ragged breath, and spoke more calmly. “All that I know is that when I saw you at the audition yesterday afternoon, it was as if someone had punched me in the stomach. I wanted you more than I have ever wanted any woman in my life. I've got to have you, or go totally insane.”
“You're already insane,” she whispered. “Things just don't happen like that.”
“I didn't think so either,” he said harshly. “I seemed to have become completely obsessed by you. I never cared a damn about chastity in a woman before, but the thought of another man having had you before me, makes me want to strangle you.”
His eyes gleamed with such savagery that a flicker of fear shot through her, and she took an involuntary step backward. His hands fell away from her, and his mouth twisted cynically. “Don't worry, I haven't reached that stage of barbarism yet,” he said hoarsely. “Though I just may, if I ever catch you with any other man. I can't even bear to see you with the child, knowing that another man fathered him.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” she said dazedly. “First, you tell me you want some sort of affair with me, and then that you can't bear to have me around my own son.” Her voice rose hysterically. “What am I supposed to do? Drown him? You're completely mad!”
He shrugged. “I knew it was too soon,” he said. “I was going to wait a little longer, until you got to know me better. I know it's a shock to you.” His mouth twisted wryly. “As for the child, I'll just have to learn to tolerate him, won't I?”
“Tolerate?” The word added fuel to her growing anger. That anyone would have to “tolerate” the adorable, sunny imp that was Randy was unbelievable.
“I shouldn't bother,” she said coldly. “Neither of us need your tolerance, Mr. Donovan.”
“The outraged lioness in defense of her cub,” he murmured mockingly. “Tell me, now that I've invited you into my bed, don't you think that we're on personal enough terms for you to call me Michael?”
“As our acquaintance will be ending right here and now, I hardly think it necessary,” she said coolly, turning toward the bedroom door.
His hand caught her arm as she walked past him, and he whirled her around to face him. “You're not walking out, Brenna,” he said grimly. “You've got a job to do.”
“As your mistress?” she asked sarcastically, lifting her chin.
“Eventually,” Donovan said coolly. “But at present I have a film to make, and you agreed