Page 23 of Craig

"Let's get one damn thing straight here. We have an agreement. I will be entering into a fake marriage that will alter my lifestyle. I'm going to have to pretend like mad that I'm in love with you and leave my independence behind for several months."

"Of which you're going to be very well compensated. Don't forget that."

"Which doesn't give you the right to try and run my life. We're going to establish some ground rules right now. I live my life, my way. I might be entering this farce with you, but don't expect me to toe the line. I will try my best to pretend to be a faithful and committed 'wife,' but don't expect me to just abandon my life and my friends. So, you'd better decide if I'm the right person for the job."

Turning off the main road, he did his best to calm down. He was almost at the manor, and the old man had sharp eyes.

He would be able to see if they had been fighting.

"Just do your bloody part and we'll be fine," he said with gritted teeth. He did not want to admit the real reason for his anger.

Admitting that he had wanted to smash the guy's face in for daring to put his hands on her would be admitting that he had feelings for her. That would not do.

It would not do at all.

"Oh, I intend to do my part," she told him sweetly.

"I'm an actress, remember? And like you said, I'm being richly compensated. So, if I have to kiss a frog, then so be it. If I have to kiss ass, then I'm willing to do that as well."

He brought the vehicle to a stop outside a pair of sweeping electronic gates, brakes almost grinding. Hitting the clasp on the seatbelt, he released it.

Before she could move or react, he had his hand fisted in her locks, painfully jerking her head up.

Her astonished look gave him grim satisfaction.

"You, materialistic bitch."

"And you're a hypocrite!" she blazed, stung by his tone and his words.

"You're doing the same thing. Going to great lengths to get your inheritance. So, don't you sit there on your high horse and behave as if you're any better."

"It's mine." He twisted his hand and jerked her head up so that her face was inches away from his.

"That's the difference."

"You certainly didn't work for it, did you? Let go of me."

"I despise women like you."

Her eyes flashed. "I'm not a fan of men like you either."

She shoved at his chest, angry when she didn't even budge him. He was breathing hard, the anger changing as he stared at her lips.

She had coated them with shimmering ripe strawberry, and it looked good enough to eat. He wanted a taste.

He wanted it so badly, he could not think.

The hands she had settled on his chest closed into fists as she watched his expression change. Her breath caught inside her throat and helpless heat coursed through, changing the atmosphere inside the car.

Suddenly, the argument, the anger and bitterness did not matter. "No," she whispered, hating how thin and uncertain her voice sounded.

"You need a lesson," he told her hoarsely. "And I want to be the one to give it to you."

His head descended slowly, as if giving her time to retreat. Regina discovered that she was paralyzed, her body arching towards his.

His breath tasted dark and completely tempting as he lowered his head closer to hers. His mouth just brushed against hers, just a slight movement, a breath.

It took that for the passion to flare and for memories to come tumbling back.