These Arms of Mine. Judy Lynn Hubbard
you heard me.”
“Don’t toy with me.”
An arrogant half smile turned up the corners of his mouth at her chastising tone.
“I never play, unless I choose the game and am assured of victory.”
She believed him. He was a man used to getting his way—always, except once with her. She slowly walked back until she was standing in front of his desk again.
“So you’re serious about letting Robert off the hook?”
“Yes.”
Something in his tone worried her, yet she stood her ground. She had the feeling she would regret her next question, but she had to ask it.
“What do you want in return?”
He stood and slowly walked until he was standing in front of her, so close that their bodies were almost touching. She resisted a strong impulse to turn and run or take the few steps necessary to bring them breast to breast. She faced him unwaveringly as she waited apprehensively for his response.
His eyes roamed over her from head to toe. His blatant inspection made her feel as if she were a piece of prime meat he was preparing to devour with that wicked mouth of his. Her heart began to beat erratically, not from fear, but from another emotion just as strong.
“Something only you can give me.”
“Which is what?” She tilted her head up his tall frame, staring at him uneasily.
He continued to subject her to his slow scrutiny, his eyes lingering long on her moist, slightly parted lips, before lifting to meet her eyes once again. His thorough examination was more disquieting than anything she could have imagined he would say. However, his next words proved her wrong.
“I want you,” he answered truthfully.
Chapter 2
He was unblinking and serious as he continued staring into her huge, horrified eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he laughed out loud at her apparent shock. He knew his declaration was the last thing she had expected to hear—it was honestly the last thing he had expected to utter.
She didn’t make a move as his brief laughter reverberated in the quiet office before silence returned. He said nothing further and she was unable to respond. Instead, she stared at him unblinkingly, a hand slowly going to her suddenly constricted throat while her heart thudded loudly.
When she finally found her voice it was hushed and strained. “You can’t be serious!”
“Can’t I?”
She searched his face for signs that he was being facetious, yet found none. Still, he had to be joking. Her other hand moved to her throbbing temple and she tried to laugh dismissively—she couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“I must have misunderstood you.”
“Did you?” His piercing eyes studied her face carefully.
“Did you say that you want…me?” She forced herself to repeat his ridiculous statement.
“You understand me correctly.”
“What do you mean by want?” As she articulated the question, she was petrified of his response.
“Want. A transitive verb meaning to desire, to have need for, to crave.”
Every word he used to describe his meaning brought vivid pictures to her mind. She swallowed hard to dispel the lump that had rapidly risen in her throat, but to no avail. She stared at the man in front of her, amusement still twinkling in his eyes. Yet, underneath the levity lurked something else—a seriousness that terrified her.
“Are you saying you expect me to…you expect us to…that you want…”
She couldn’t force herself to finish that sentence.
“I want you to marry me.”
“Marry you?” She sank into the chair she had vacated earlier.
“What did you think I meant?” He studied her distraught face carefully. “Alesha, you didn’t think I wanted us to live together in sin, did you?”
“Why do you want to marry me?” She needed a cold compress for her head.
“Because I need a wife.” He reclined against his desk.
“You need a wife?” She paused before continuing. “Why?”
“According to my campaign manager, it would be good for me to be seen as a family man, and having a wife would equip me with a full-time hostess and date.”
He took no pleasure in reiterating Cam’s earlier words. Although seeing the woman who had single-handedly ruined his life two years ago in acute distress was very gratifying, indeed.
“How romantic.”
Her dry tones made his eyebrow rise slightly—he had no clue how she managed to be sarcastic at a time like this.
“You once made it clear that you didn’t want romance from me. Has that changed?”
“Do you always do what others tell you?” She deliberately sidestepped his previous question.
“Never.” He firmly shook his head.
“Then why start now?”
She couldn’t marry him—or anyone else—under these circumstances. The very idea was absurd!
“I’ve already answered that question.” His face was unreadable.
“Have you?”
Of course, he didn’t tell her that until she had walked through his office door, he had no intention of agreeing to Cam’s suggestion. Even having put the proposal on the table, he couldn’t believe he had done so. Yet, there had always been something about her—something that sparked a chord inside him. He was dismayed to learn his reaction to her hadn’t dissipated with the time they had spent apart—time she had forced them to spend apart, he angrily went over in his mind. Despite his better judgment, he still wanted her, and this time he was determined to have her—all of her.
“You don’t even like me.”
She waited for him to respond but he remained silent. Slowly, he smiled without humor and neither denied nor confirmed her observation. Lord, she wished she had never come here today! She had thought, prayed, that time would have healed old wounds. However, it was painfully apparent it had not. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her, but if that was true, why was he suggesting that they get married?
“‘Like’ is irrelevant, Alesha.”
“How can you say that? How can you suggest that we get married?”
“I told you why already.”
He sighed, his tone implying he had no desire to explain his reasons to her again or to justify them to himself.
She lowered her aching head into her hands and willed herself to wake up from this nightmare. However, when she raised her head again, the man in front of her had not vanished, as she had hoped. Rather, his presence was undeniable as he watched her closely.
“You’re serious.”
“I am.” He nodded affirmatively.
“Is this about revenge?” She articulated the only possibility that made any sense to her.
“It’s about fate, Alesha.”
“Fate?”
Her disdainful, soft echoing of his single prophetic word caused a slight clinching of his jaw—or did she imagine that?
“Yes.”
There was uncomfortable silence as each tried to guess