Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(90)

As soon as he lifted his head, Julia glared at him and fought to steady her nerves. “Untie my hands,” she said on a suffocated breath.

“Not until we've settled a few points.”

“I won't discuss anything with you while you're drunk.”

“I'm not drunk—but I have been drinking. It was the only thing that kept me sane during the trip to London.”

“What are you planning to do?” she asked. “Abduct me? Prevent the wedding somehow? It doesn't matter, you'll only delay the inevitable.”

“I'm going to ruin you for any other man.” His hands brushed over her fragile throat and down to her br**sts. “You may choose him, but you'll never have what I can give you.”

“Are you resorting to rape now?” she asked coldly, ignoring the flaring response of her body to his touch.

“It won't be rape.”

Julia was infuriated by his selfish arrogance. “You're going to make me regret everything that has ever happened between us.”

“You will. You'll regret having known what it's like to be loved by someone, when you're lying in bed next to a man who doesn't give a damn about anything but his profession.”

“It's what I want. And I haven't slept with Logan—our marriage will be one of convenience.”

He snorted at the idea. “Eventually you'll end up in his bed. You're too beautiful for him not to desire you. But you'll awaken beside him wanting me.”

“Don't you think I know that?” she demanded, her voice suddenly breaking. “Do you believe it's been easy for me to accept the offer of a loveless marriage rather than stay with the man I…”

The words died away, but Damon pounced on the unfinished sentence. “The man you what? Say it, Julia. You owe me that much, at least.”

She clamped her trembling lips together and stared at him with glittering eyes.

His breath caught as he looked at her. “By God, I'll make you admit it before the night is through.”

“What good would that do?” she asked, while a tear dropped from one of her eyes and slid down her cheek.

Damon traced the wet path with his thumb. “I have to hear the words. I need to know that you understand what you're doing.” His face was very close to hers, his disheveled black hair falling over his forehead, his eyes bloodshot. His arms slid around her and she felt his fingers working at the bonds around her wrists. When her arms were free, she pushed hard against his chest, but he continued to crush her close, his mouth at her ear. “I know what you want,” he said roughly. “The very thing you're most afraid of…to be loved by a man, to give yourself to him without holding anything back. But you're too damned afraid to trust me. You think I'll use your feelings against you, just as your father did to your mother.”

“And what about you?” she demanded, writhing against him. “You must have everything your way, at your convenience, regardless of what I must sacrifice in order to please you!”

“It doesn't have to be like that.”

They were both still, locked together like two warriors in battle. The carriage stopped, and Damon dragged Julia from the vehicle despite her protests. They were at the Savage house at Laura Place. A pair of perplexed footmen tried to perform their duties as their employer hauled an obviously unwilling woman into the residence. Julia thought of screaming at the house servants for assistance, but Damon cut her short with a curt statement. “Don't bother. They won't help you.”

Julia continued to struggle as he hauled her toward the staircase, until he stopped and slung her over his shoulder. After a shriek of surprise, she had a dizzying glimpse of the stairs passing beneath Damon's feet. Finally they reached his bedroom, furnished with a massive bed covered by a royal blue canopy. After depositing Julia on the mattress, Damon went to the door and locked it. He turned to face her and tossed the key to the carpeted floor.

Julia scrambled off the bed, her muscles stiff with outrage. “Is this approach effective with Lady Ashton? Because I assure you, it's not going to work with me.”

“I've broken off my relationship with Pauline. She's not pregnant. She has no claim on me.”

Julia refused to show any reaction to the news, although her heart gave an unwanted skip of gladness. “How ironic. You're bereft of a wife and a mistress all at once.”

“I'm glad we're not married.”

“Why is that?” she asked, managing to stand her ground as he approached her.

Damon stopped a few feet away and removed his coat. He dropped it to the floor and began unfastening his shirt buttons. “Now it's just you and me. The past is no longer between us, and everything our parents did is over.”

“Have you told your father about the letter?” Julia asked, not yet having brought herself to tell her own family about what she had done.

A strange, stiff expression crossed his face. “No,” he said curtly. “He died before I found out about it.”

“What?” Julia asked in bewilderment, staring at him blankly until the meaning of his words sank in. “Oh,” she said faintly. “That's why you didn't come back to Bath. I…I'm sorry—”

Damon cut her off with an impatient shrug, clearly unwilling to discuss it. “He was ill for a long time.”