Julia London

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Authors: Wicked Angel The Devil's Love
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his hips and as grim a face as he could muster.
    “I strongly recommend you not fight me on this; you cannot possibly win. I do not desire a wife, and if I am forced to
keep
a wife, I will exact my revenge on you every waking hour. Think long and hard about what I’ve said before you make up your mind, Abigail.”
    “You should have thought about that before you signed that silly agreement, or whatever it was,” she responded quietly. His eyes narrowed with undisguised rancor. She stoodunsteadily. “If you will excuse me, I think I should like to freshen up. Anything would be infinitely more pleasurable than this interview.” She looked him directly in the eye, brazenly daring him to say anything more.
    The sparkle in those angry violet eyes captivated him. He surprised himself by suddenly catching her upper arms and jerking her to his chest. Abbey flung her arms wildly, but he easily caught them and pinned them behind her back. He held her close, her slender body pressed against the full length of his hard, muscular frame. His gaze swept from her flashing eyes to her mouth, pursed with fear.
    “I am not given to assaulting women, if I correctly interpret that look. But you will be my
wife
, and I will touch you whenever I please.” Fear clouded her eyes and he took pity. He continued, a little more softly. “Abigail, your father’s will is clear in its stipulations. If we do not marry, your father’s business associates will not receive their shares. My father’s debts cannot be repaid. My family will lose our ancestral home and you will lose your dowry. But I can settle all of that if only you will agree to end this so that we can lead our lives as we wish. I will attempt to settle a sum upon you to compensate the loss of your dowry if you will but end this now.”
    Abbey could not think straight and stared helplessly at him. He seemed different now, almost sad. What game was he playing with her? Whatever his motives, she did not want to be chained to a man who did not want her and openly resented her. Her eyes stung with tears of bitter disappointment; she blinked and looked down. Michael gingerly slipped two fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to his.
    “I think I hate you,”
she whispered before he could speak. A raw emotion flashed in his gray eyes just before his mouth swept down on hers. It happened so swiftly and so brutally that she could not react. He crushed her to him, pressing her into his hard chest and thighs. His tongue battered at her lips, insisting she open to him. Abbey struggled, but Michael pulled her even closer than she thought possible. His body, hard and lean, burned her like an open flame. Squirmingagainst him, she gasped for air, and Michael plunged his tongue inside her soft, sweet mouth.
    Abbey was immediately caught in a gulf between fear and a depth of emotion she could not possibly understand. His mouth was cruel until the roiling emotions crashing through her made her relent. Then he softened, his lips carefully molding hers, his tongue gently probing, willing her to him. Humiliated and deeply hurt, Abbey felt a single hot tear fall down her cheek, followed by the tender stroke of Michael’s thumb as he swept it away. His kiss was drugging her, sweeping her from reality, sparking a flame in her she had never before felt. The assault on her senses seemed endless, and when he at last lifted his head, a shiver coursed her spine and made her shudder violently.
    She had never been kissed, not like that. Stunned, Abbey could do nothing but stare at his lips, conscious of a lingering warmth that spread slowly down to her toes. He was smiling down at her, a cocky, self-assured smile, and as the magic of the kiss began to wear off, she slowly grew embarrassed and resentful. It was cruel thing to have done after everything he had said. Abbey pushed angrily against his chest, stumbling backward.
    “
That
was badly done!” she spat. He laughed and folded his arms across his

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