Free Bargain with the devil by Jayne Castle Page A

fingers were on the warmth of her bare skin, sliding slowly upward toward her small breasts.
    „The martyr role,“ he explained softly. „Deep down, you’re a fighter like me. And once you accept the fact that I’m bigger, stronger, and far more ruthless, we’ll get along very well together!“
    That was too much! „Not a chance!“ she promised fiercely.
    „See what I mean?“ he murmured teasingly. „You’ll never make it as a saint. But neither will I let you hurt yourself by continually fighting me. You’re going to channel all that energy and spirit into a much more useful role. That of being my wife!“
    „So that you can throw the fact in my fathers face!“ she charged bleakly, wondering yet again what Hunter would do when he realized how little impact that would have on Paul J. Rylan.
    There was a fractional hesitation before Hunter bit out a soft, rasping „Yes!“
    Instantly the cajoling, seductive element disappeared from his lovemaking. As if Stacy’s accusation had made him realize there was little point in trying to coax her into -a more passionate mood, Hunter, with a low growl compounded of desire and determination, bent and lifted her high into his arms.
    „Put me down, damn it!“ Stacy yelped as her senses spun momentarily with the unexpected change in position.
    Without thinking about it, she closed the fingers of one hand into a small fist, raising it to use against his chest.
    „Hit me once more tonight, Stacy Rylan, and I will really lose my temper,“ Hunter warned almost mildly, carrying her into the kitchen and on toward the living room.
    Something in his voice, perhaps the very lack of obvious anger, stopped her. „Then put me down, and neither of us will be forced to go through any more scenes!“ she ordered loftily, well aware she was in an exceptionally weak position from which to bargain. She glared furiously up into his determinedly set features. He smiled thinly.
    „I wouldn’t think of skipping this next little scene,“ he told her in deep, rough tones. He came to a halt beside the couch, patterned in huge yellow flowers, and dumped her unceremoniously onto it.
    „Don’t move!“ he grated as she tried at once to find her balance and get off the cushions. „Not one inch.“
    „What do you think you’re doing?“ she demanded as haughtily as she could with her hair in her eyes. He looked very large and forbidding as he stood beside the couch, examining his captive.
    „I’m going to find out exactly what I’m gaining out of this deal besides a green-thumbed health-food nut!“ He lowered himself beside her, and she tried to pull away, but there wasn’t anywhere to move now.
    „I’m not a nut!“ she informed him stiffly, „and you’re only going into this marriage for revenge, so you can’t tell me you want anything… anything else!“
    „But I do want something else. Something that will make the revenge complete. I want you!“ Hunter reached out and took hold of her left wrist, chaining it deliberately as he leaned heavily across her other arm and upper body.
    With his free hand he slowly, methodically began undoing the buttons of her shirt.
    „Hunter, please!“ Stacy begged, abandoning all hope of being able to hold him at bay with angry words. „Don’t do this!“
    The foggy pools of his eyes met hers, and she had the oddest sensation of being enveloped by the shifting, swirling currents there. His fingers were halfway through their task. She felt the slightly rough-ened tips straying inside the opening of her shirt, testing the softness of the skin of her breasts above the edge of her bra.
    „Pleas?“ he questioned, sounding vaguely interested. „No more orders or bargains?“
    „Hunter,“ Stacy whispered desperately, her wide eyes making no effort to hide her anxiety. „I’m begging you to wait. At least give me a chance to know you and get accustomed to the idea of marrying you! Everything has happened so quickly tonight. I – I realize