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Isha’s eyes flashed in anger when she realised I wasn’t going to budge.
“I’ll scream the place down. And when my brother kicks you out of the palace and out of our lives in the middle of the night, I’ll try not to look too happy,” she hissed.
“Your mother will be here before your brother, and trust me, babe. She’s going to thank me for not letting you go wandering about the city at night. So go ahead and scream. Let’s see how that plays out for you,” I drawled.
Isha cursed under her breath as she tried to slip out from under my arm, but I took one step forward and my chest came up plush against her heaving breasts. We both stilled at the feel of our bodies against each other.
She had every right to be angry with me, but I didn’t know why I was so angry. Why did I feel… almost betrayed?
Her breath feathered against my neck as I stared down at her, and a soft shudder rippled down my spine. If I just bent my head a little, I could kiss her. My hands slid down the door until they almost touched her hips. Almost, but not quite.
Every fibre of my being yelled at me to touch her. To haul her into my arms and kiss her until she forgot all about this mystery man. But I knew that if I took one step down that road, I was a goner for life. Because kissing Isha was addictive. Fucking addictive! I should know. It had been very difficult and painful to kick the habit the last time I did it.
Which was why I also knew that she would probably rip my balls out if I dared to make a move on her. The smart thing to do right now would be to walk away. But I had never been smart where this woman was concerned. When I was around her, all the blood in my body drained south and left my poor brain making all kinds of wrong decisions.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned. “I’ll bite your lips off.”
I let out a short laugh at her threat. She looked mad enough to actually do it.
I dipped my head a little to whisper in her ear.
“Take care, Princess. Because I bite back,” I growled.
Isha couldn’t hide the shudder that swept through her body. I wound one of her curls around my finger and tugged her closer gently.
“Tell me whom you’re meeting,” I insisted.
Isha slipped her fingers through my belt loops and pulled me even closer as she wound one leg around my denim-clad hip. She tilted her head and shot me a slow, challenging smile.
“I’m meeting my lover. What are you going to do about it?” she asked.
The vixen was toying with me! Well, if she wanted to play with fire…
I grabbed her leg and pulled it even higher as I ground my hardness against her core. She let out a soft moan and dug her nails into my shoulder.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
“I know,” I whispered back, the strain of not kissing her almost driving me out of my mind.
“I’m not meeting anyone, so you can drop the alpha-hole act. Although I don’t see why it’s any of your business.”
She wouldn’t, and I couldn’t enlighten her because what was the point? She’d never believe me. Not after the way I had treated her.
“Where are you going, Isha?” I asked letting go of her leg and taking a careful step back.
She blew out a heavy breath and ran a hand through her unruly curls.
“I’m going out for a drive because I need some fresh air. Although I have no idea why I’m even telling you because you’re the reason I was trapped in my room for so long,” she replied with a scowl.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
Isha crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow in enquiry.
“For?”
Damn it! The list of things I had to apologise for was a mile long. And I had no idea where to begin. I decided to start small.
“I’m sorry I spiked your nimbu paani at the funeral. I didn’t intend to get you drunk at a formal event.”
