Free Summer Mahogany by Janet Dailey

when a knock at the door announced the arrival of room service and her dinner. Rhyder hadn't ordered anything for himself and Gina had to suffer through swallowing the tasteless food alone.
    His jacket and tie had been removed, the cuffs of his white shirt turned back, and the top three buttons unfastened. A brandy he had poured from the portable bar was in his hands as he reclined almost indolently in an armchair. The expression on his hard, tanned features was a study of remoteness.
    Gina stared at the food remaining on her plate. With a jerky movement she let the silverware clatter to the tray and pushed herself away from it, rising in agitation, her fingers twisting into knots. She was conscious of drawing his attention.
    "Finished?" Rhyder inquired evenly.
    "Yes." Gina flashed him a challenging look. His mouth thinned into a grim line. "I wasn't going to tell you to clean your plate," he snapped, and downed the swallow of brandy in his glass.
    "That's good," she retaliated sharply, "because I wouldn't have done it."
    "I was hoping food would improve your disposition." He rose impatiently and walked to the small bar to refill his glass. "But obviously it hasn't."
    "So what are you going to do? Drown your sorrow in drink?" Gina taunted.
    Bleak blue eyes held the stormy agitation of her ocean green ones, then cut them free as he took a healthy swig from the glass, not savoring the brandy in sips as it was meant to be drunk. The glass was refilled before he moved away from the bar.
    "Maybe I've decided that you were right earlier," Rhyder commented with a sardonic lift of an eyebrow. "This might be the night for getting drunk."
    Her pulse throbbed unevenly as he lazily approached her. Minus the jacket and tie of civilized dress, and with the opened front of his white shirt revealing the leanly muscled chest, he appeared more like the man her heart remembered, virile and strong with an impression of the sea about him and a rolling deck beneath his feet. Pain splintered through her nerves.
    "I'll join you," she declared in a constricted voice.
    She started to walk past him to the bar, but his hand shot out to halt her, his fingers closing around the soft flesh of her upper arm. Sore nerves screamed at his firm grip. A thread snapped inside.
    "Don't touch me!" she hissed venomously.
    "Don't touch you?" repeated Rhyder with sarcastic scorn, tightening his hold. "That's how this whole situation came about, because you begged me to touch you and I refused."
    Scorching waves of shame seared through her veins, bringing high color to her face and neck. Futilely she struggled to twist free of his grip, but his fingers dug bruisingly to the bone. She clawed at his hand, trying to make him ease the agonizing pressure.
    "Let me go!" It was a desperate cry for mercy because she lacked the strength to make him obey.
    Low, harsh laughter came from his throat. "That's not what you wanted me to do before," he mocked her.
    Gina made a backhanded swing at his chin, missed, and knocked the brandy glass from his other hand. It fell harmlessly to the thickly carpeted floor, liquid splashing out in a wet stain.
    His free hand imprisoned her other arm to yank her against him. The hint of cruelty in his eyes frightened her and she struggled wildly.
    "Let me go! I can't stand you!" she declared, breathing heavily with her efforts.
    An iron band crushed her to his chest while hard fingers roughly seized her chin and lifted it upward. "But we're married now, my love," he jeered. "It's all perfectly legal. In fact, it's my conjugal right."
    His savage gaze glittered briefly in satisfaction at her fear-rounded eyes before he violently assaulted her quivering lips. He stole the breath from her lungs and drained the strength from her limbs, leaving her limp in his arms. His thirst for revenge wasn't satisfied by simple surrender as he ravaged the sweetness of her mouth, intoxicating brandy on his breath.
    Her trembling response to his marauding kiss made