‘Not good enough.’ He held the pendant higher as she took another swipe at it. ‘I want to hear you ask nicely.’
She felt a ripple of annoyance course through her, tightening every muscle to snapping point. ‘Give it to me, please.’
His chocolate-brown eyes contained a goading glint. ‘You can do better than that, ma belle. I want to hear you beg.’
Angelique felt the sudden rush of her fury as it unleashed itself from the tight restraints she had spent a lifetime keeping in place.
She would not beg.
She would not plead.
She would not give in to his command like a servant who had no rights. She would scratch his eyes out before she did that.
She flew at him like a dervish, calling him every foul name she could think of. It all came bubbling out like poison—the rage, the hatred, the feeling of impotence, the shame at being under his control when she had worked so hard not be under any man’s control.
He had subdued her sensually.
He had ambushed her.
Disarmed her.
Now he wanted to break her spirit just like her father had done to her mother.
Of course, she was no match for him. He took control of her flailing fists before they could even land a punch. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ he asked, frowning at her.
Angelique pulled against his iron-like hold. ‘Let go of me, you...you bastard!’
‘Not until you simmer down.’ His tone was calm but implacable. ‘You’re going to hurt yourself carrying on like that. What’s got into you?’
Tears started and burned in her eyes. It was the greatest shame of all to be snivelling like a child in front of him but there was nothing she could do to stop the flow once it had started. She choked back a sob but another one soon followed, and then another, and another until she finally bowed her head and gave in to the storm of weeping. It was lowering to find herself in such a vulnerable state. How could she have let this happen? What was wrong with her? Where was her pride and determination? Had his powerful love-making undone her completely? How would she get herself together again?
Remy released her wrists but he gathered her to him, putting his arms around her so the wall of his body supported her. One of his hands went to the back of her head and gently stroked her hair as she shook with sobs against him. ‘I’ve upset you.’ His voice was very deep and sounded surprised. Perhaps even a little shocked.
Angelique gave an almighty sniff, and as if by magic a neatly folded white handkerchief with an embroidered black C on it was handed to her. ‘Thanks.’
‘Don’t mention it.’
She blew her nose and scrunched the handkerchief into a ball inside her hand. ‘I’m fine now.’ She took a ragged breath and glanced up at him with an attempt at wryness. ‘Bet you don’t think I’m so beautiful now.’
His expression was clouded with concern as he looked down at her. ‘I was only teasing. You do know that, don’t you, ma petite?’
Why did he have to keep calling her those wonderful endearments in that sexy accent of his? It made it so much harder to hate him.
You don’t hate him.
Angelique skirted around the thought and gave him a small self-deprecating smile. ‘It’s a bit of a hot button for me. A red rag, if you like. I don’t beg. Ever. For anything.’
‘I’ll make a note of it.’
The silence thrummed for a moment.
She tucked a tendril of hair back behind her ear. ‘Um...I guess I should go and clean up.’
He handed her the pendant, his expression now inscrutable. ‘It’s very nice. Was it a gift from one of your lovers?’
The fine chain tickled Angelique’s palm as it coiled there. ‘It was my mother’s.’ She raised her chin a fraction. ‘Just for the record, I don’t accept gifts from my lovers. Ever.’
He held her gaze for a beat or two, his still dark and unfathomable. ‘Apart from Scottish mansions, of course.’