Diana Duncan - Bulletproof Bride

He froze, his eyes darkening. “I didn’t force you. You wanted that as much as I did.”

“I most certainly did not,” she lied. If she admitted it, that would make her like Vivienne, and she would not go there.

He was trembling. Had she done that to him? “Baby, your brain might be clinging to denial, but your body sure as hell knows what it wants.” He jumped up and stalked to the other side of the room. “Get packed.”

She clambered to her feet. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He prowled toward her, all lean muscles and dangerous grace. “This is not an optional exercise. Pack, or I’m hauling you out right now without whatever you need.”

“I won’t—” she started, then thought better of pushing him. He looked furious enough to follow through, and she had no doubt who would win. Provoking a confrontation was foolish. Pivoting, she marched to the closet and grabbed a new suitcase, purchased for her honeymoon. She threw it on the bed, and began flinging in clothing at random.

An echoing note from her baby grand piano made her jerk her head up. He was seated at the oak bench. “What do you play?”

“Music,” she snapped.

“Don’t be mad.” Looking as lost and bewildered as she felt, he gave her a shaky smile. “I couldn’t have stopped myself from kissing you right then if my life had depended on it.” He cleared his throat and his gaze slid away. “I was out of line. I apologize.”

Confusion swirled through her, her muddled feelings tangled in a knot. She shoved a taupe sweater on top of the growing pile. “I’m promised to another man. A good man. You can’t just kiss me whenever you get the urge. I need to be able to trust you.”

“You can trust me, Tessa.” He returned her gaze, his jade eyes dark with suppressed emotion. He held up a two-fingered salute. “I won’t kiss you again. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a Boy Scout?”

His gaze sidled away again. “Not exactly.”

He looked so much like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar, she couldn’t help herself. She chuckled. “You are something else, Bond, Gabe Bond.”

“I believe you used the word nice?” He wiggled his brows at her.

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