Chapter 14

Zoe was scared. Scared that she’d have a heart attack due to the forceful attempt of the organ to break her ribcage. Gael returned to his seat, and she exhaled. Then he turned with a scowl and the heart stopped … just for a second before continuing its uneven beating.

As he sat, he looked at her and remarked, “You are such a cunning little brat, you know that?”

“What?”

“You heard me. This was all a ruse to get back at me, wasn’t it? You’d worm your way under my skin and then drop the bomb,” he said, his voice hardening. He rose from the chair and walked to the sideboard where he picked up a bottle, turned it over in his hand and replaced it. “That act of yours with the sneezing and sniffling was good. Even faked a fever to gain my sympathy. Touché!”

“What? You think I faked being sick so I could get back at you?”

“It’s all clear to me now,” he snarled.

Dumbstruck, she opened her mouth to protest but could not believe he thought her flu was fake. How could he think she targeted him? They’d done nothing but fight since she met him at the airport. He was the one who decided to take her home.

She studied his features, which had gone dark. He picked up the brandy bottle again and poured some in the glass. She watched as he downed the drink in one gulp and slammed the glass on the surface.

Rising from her perch on the sofa, her mind was settled. “Maybe I have overstayed my welcome,” she said in a low tone.

With hastened steps, she headed up the stairs, not thinking her plan through. All she knew was that she could not spend another minute with Gael. With all the bickering and taunting, she never once thought he’d accuse her of manipulating the situation. He was the one to care for her when she was ill, how could he think she faked it to target him?

There was nothing much to pack, so she stuffed whatever was out into her suitcase and pulled on her coat and boots. The heels on her boots were three inches; she should have brought a flatter heel. Disregarding the fact that it might be difficult to trudge through the snow in this, she stomped her way down the stairs, dragging the case behind her.

Of course, the wheels on the darn thing made a racket as they hit each step. She didn’t care. When she reached the living room, she paused, looking at him with all the fierceness riling inside her.

“Merry Christmas, Gael Matheson.”

He stared at her, his deep blue depths glinting, but he said nothing. She left him staring after her as she exited the front door and into the snow. It was difficult pulling her suitcase behind as the ten or so inches of icy fluff hampered her efforts.

Everywhere was white that she had to judge where the street was by estimating the distance between houses. Her view was partially obscured by the density of the falling snow. The main issue now was determining which direction to take. She started moving right as it didn’t matter now because the most important thing was to get as far away from Gael as possible.

She had just made a few steps on her new journey when her suitcase refused to tag along. Turning with a frustrated groan, she gave it a hard yank before realizing what was holding it back.

“Let go of my luggage, you turd!” her voice matched the howling wind that whipped through the air.

“Turd? That’s mature,” he calmly stated. “And stop trying so hard to be tough, we both know you aren’t.”

The spark of anger that was simmering under the surface finally burst into a blazing fire. “Let go!” she screamed, giving the item a hard pull, but lost her balance and ended up on her backside instead.

Gael moved quickly to reach down and yanked her to her feet. But she was having none of that; she pulled away from him and was back on her derriere.

“Stop fussing and come back inside. You don’t want a relapse, now do you?”

“Relapse?” she snorted. “I thought I was faking the whole thing!”

He ignored her snarky tone. “Let’s go; it’s cold out.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You don’t have a choice,” he replied.

She stood, brushing the icy particles from her coat and squinting her eyes to see through the falling sheets of ice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gael’s answer was to make one long step toward her. Before she could react, he was lifting her and throwing her over his shoulder. His grip on her was firm while his free hand grabbed the handle of the luggage and lifted it.

“Put me down, or I’ll scream.”

“Scream all you want, all the neighbors know me well. Plus, no one would hear you in this storm,” he casually replied.

“Argh, I hate you Gael Matheson; I really hate you,” she shrieked, pummeling his hard back with her fists while he crunched through the snow. His long legs carried them back to the house in a few strides.

“You can hate me all you want, but do it inside where it’s warm,” he gibed.

He paused a moment to remove her coat, and when she would have bolted, he picked her up and again took her to the living room. Dumping her on the sofa, he gave her a menacing stare, then knelt and removed her boots. “You try leaving again, and I’ll tie you up,” he warned.

“You can’t keep me here.”

“Hell if I can’t. I won’t be responsible for you meeting your death out there.”

With a pout and her wrath boiling over, she rose, gripped the handle of the luggage and brushed past him. When she reached the stairs, she lifted the thing and carried it up. She was opening the bedroom door when someone grabbed her upper arm and spun her around. Her back came up against the passage wall.

A frustrated cry emitted from her. “What now?”

Back to the wall, Gael closed in on her, placing his palms flat on the wall on either side of her head. Raising her eyes in question, they locked with his.

“Don’t you have something to say to me?” he murmured.

His nearness rattled her, and her pulse erupted in a fast gallop. A magnetic force tugged at her, compelling her to him. She shrank away, but her back dug into the wall, making it impossible to flee. He’d closed in a few more inches.

Her stomach fluttered violently while heat crawled all over her skin. A weird but pleasant sensation presented in her belly bottom.

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stuttered, looking away.

“Zoe.”

“What?” her eyes rested on his Adam’s apple, noting how it moved up and down when he spoke.

“Do you know what it means to get under a man’s skin?”

Of course she knew, but she was damned if she’d admit it. That’s what scared her the freaking most. He had also found a way to get under her skin. His closeness now proved that very fact. She wanted him to get closer, but he was Gael, the man whore jerk! How could she allow him to get into her mind … into her heart?

She shook her head in response, closing her eyes. As she felt him press into her, her lips parted to allow for easy breathing. Then she felt his breath on her cheek.

His murmur caused an upsurge in the wild drumming of her heart. “I think you know.”

She hadn’t recovered from his hot breath on her skin when he pressed his lips to her already scorching cheek. He moved his torrid lips along her jaw, coming to settle at the base of her ear. Now, she could hear her own gasps as she gulped for air.

The electric sensations assuaging her rendered her motionless … weak even. Her mind screamed that she should make a run for it, but her knees were jelly. In addition, she liked the feel of his lips as they nibbled her earlobe and trailed their way back to the corner of her mouth.

“What … gasp … are you doing?” she breathed.

“What does it look like?”

“But, you’ll get my bug,” she replied between gasps.

“I don’t give a fuck about that. I’ve been dying to kiss you since on the plane.”

The moment the last words left his lips, he brushed the corner of her mouth then proceeded to suck on her bottom lip. A whimper escaped her as shockwaves impugned her. He raised his head, and she thought she was free, but she wasn’t.

Gael cupped her face, kissed her eyes, then her nose, and her breath stopped. This wasn’t what she thought he’d do given the chance. She had thought he’d ravage her like a savage, given her impression of him. But the gentleness exuded from him at the moment shocked her so much that she could do nothing but allow the electric charges to continue coursing through her.

When he captured her mouth, it was a gentle caress, which gradually grew into a more ardent kiss. By the time he took her tongue, her entire body was electrocuted and on fire. Her woman place was hot with desire for a deeper bond.

No, she inwardly protested, not the man whore. I can’t believe I’m falling for the man whore, she bemoaned.