Cass’s face hardened. “Don’t worry about the cost, Briony.”
His casual dismissal of what she could only assume was an astronomical price irritated her.
“If I just wear my jeans and shirt, could I sell the dresses and pay off some of my family’s debt without having to marry you?”
The words had barely left her lips before she regretted saying them. She was overreacting because of her own fears and self-doubt.
Cass’s face sharpened into granite, his amber eyes so hard she couldn’t help but shiver.
“I’m sorry,” he said silkily as he advanced into the room. If she’d thought it an intimate space before, it was downright claustrophobic as his sensual presence filled every nook and cranny. She stepped back into the mirrored wall, the coolness of the glass belying the heat that traitorously flashed through her veins as he loomed over her. “Perhaps our memories differ as to what transpired yesterday. I don’t recall forcing you to sign that contract.”
“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” she retorted.
“You had choices, Briony.” He leaned down, bracing one arm against the wall as he caged her in with his body. “Three of them, in fact. You chose to come to the airfield. You chose to get on my plane. And you chose to sign that contract.”
White-hot anger warred with her awareness of just how close Cass was, how it would take just one slight move to press her mouth to his.
As if sensing her thoughts, his lips turned up into a cold, calculating smile.
“I know people better than they know themselves.”
With that pronouncement hanging in the air between them, he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t the sweet kiss she’d dreamed of back when he’d just been Cass Morgan. No, this was the kiss of a prince who was used to getting his way, a fierce kiss that assaulted her senses and made clear who was in charge. Despite the heat, he kept his hands on either side of her, not touching. A caress that lacked intimacy as he held himself back and kissed her on his terms.
All of the emotions from the past forty-eight hours swirled up inside her: anger, desire, hope, excitement, lust, fear. The fierce mix tore through her and propelled her up onto her toes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, returned the kiss with a fervor that surprised even herself as her fingers sank into the silky strands of his hair.
He froze for a moment. She didn’t open her eyes, half terrified she’d see what she couldn’t handle any more of: rejection.
Then a growl vibrated against her lips. The sound moved through her body, a hum of electricity that made her gasp. Cass’s arms crushed her body to him as he took advantage of her parted lips to slip his tongue inside her mouth. Liquid heat pooled between her thighs. An ache started to pulse deep within her. Her hips arched against him, her hands tightening as she moaned.
One hand came up, fingers grazing the side of her breast, the touch burning through the thin cloth of her T-shirt. The ache shuddered, then spread through her veins like a wildfire she couldn’t control. She wanted her shirt off, clothes off, his body pressed against hers, naked, hot, hard as he slid inside her and claimed her as his...
“Cass, please.”
He stepped back so suddenly she nearly fell forward. He caught her arms, but as soon as she’d steadied herself, he moved away. Bewildered, she brushed her hair out of her face and looked at him. He stared back, his eyes glowing gold. He didn’t bother to hide his deep breathing as his chest rose and fell, muscles outlined beneath the white material. Nor did he bother to hide the noticeable bulge between his thighs. Heat rushed into her cheeks as her gaze flickered back up to his...
...to see shock mirrored in his amber eyes for a brief second before he suddenly shut down, a mask dropping back over his face, the hint of Cass gone before she could blink and replaced with Prince Cassius, his breathing controlled once more. He was still handsome, still sexier than any man she’d ever met, but distant, regal.
Who was this man she was engaged to marry? Had the flirting, the seductive dance, the way he’d looked at her as if he couldn’t bear not to touch her, all been true? The possibility that he was just affected as she was gave her some comfort.
“Cass—”
“That was careless of me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
He stepped back and gestured toward the dresses. “Does one stand out to you?”
Her fingers curled into fists. “You know, my mind is elsewhere right now. I’m a little confused.”
He glanced at his watch. “We’re now less than forty minutes out. You should choose.”
“Maybe I don’t like any of them.”
“Wear one of the dresses or wear your jeans. It makes no matter to me.”
Before she could summon a witty retort, he turned and walked out.
The door closed behind him. Good thing, too, because she had been an inch away from grabbing one of the books and hurling it at his obnoxious head.