Free No Red Roses: A Loveswept Classic Romance (Santa Flores) by Iris Johansen

again to glare at him.
    “You could say that.” His lips twisted painfully as his gaze moved compulsively over the voluptuous curve of her breasts, clearly outlined in the faded lavender shirt. “I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to wreak havoc on Jamison or you. I didn’t get to sleep last night thinking of you in bed with that loud-mouthed bastard, letting him do all those things to you. I wanted to do everything with you that he’d done and more. I wanted to wipe your mind free of every other man who’d ever touched you.”
    A wave of heat flowed over her, tuning her body to an exquisite sensitivity. He wasn’t even touching her, yet the intensity of that look and the erotic picture his words evoked caused a strange, melting sensation in her loins. “Howvery chauvinistic of you,” she said a little shakily, as she attempted to meet his dark gaze that was flickering now with desire as well as anger.
    He scowled. “Perhaps I am,” he admitted. “I know I don’t have any right to question your past. I’ve never been an angel myself where women were concerned. I shouldn’t care how many men you’ve had.” Then his face darkened and his hands knotted into fists. “But damn it, I do! I don’t want to meet another man who’s had you, and if you ever let anyone else so much as lay a finger on you, I’ll probably tear him apart.”
    She shivered as the absolute sincerity in his tone came home to her. Then she lifted her chin defiantly as she realized he was doing it again! Despite all her resolutions, Brody was manipulating her emotions and intimidating her just as he’d done last night.
    “I can’t say I’m interested in either your sexual fantasies or your possessive delusions, Mr. Brody,” she said icily. “And I certainly don’t intend to indulge you by paying the slightest attention to any strictures you attempt to place on me. I run my life as I see fit.”
    “Rex, damn it,” he bit out. “And you’ll be very interested in my sexual fantasies in the near future, I promise you.” He drew a deep breath and ran his hand through his crisp dark hair. “But all that isn’t important right now. I have to be in New York by late this afternoon, and you’re coming with me. Now, let’s get moving.”
    “Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I can’t possibly leave today,” Tamara said. “So I’d suggest you leave without me.”
    “Of course you can leave today,” Rex asserted arrogantly. “All you need is a little organization. Now—what do you have to do?”
    Tamara sighed resignedly and counted slowly to ten. She spoke with painstaking slowness as to a very young child. “I have to discuss my plans with my aunt. I have to pack. I have to give at least a week’s notice to Mr. Bettencourt, and I have to find someone to care for my plants while I’m gone.”
    He frowned impatiently. “I’ll help you pack. That shouldn’t take long. You can call your aunt from New York and explain. You don’t have toworry about Walter. I told him at breakfast I was taking you with me today.”
    “Wasn’t that a trifle presumptuous of you?” she asked angrily. “I owe the store at least a week’s notice, and it was my place to speak to my employer.”
    “I was hoping to spare you the awkwardness of what I assumed would be a painful situation.” His voice was dangerously soft. “I’d forgotten how close you once were. Perhaps you wanted to bid him a fond farewell.”
    “As you’re quite sure I have the morals of an alley cat, you may find it difficult to believe I have other motivations in my relationships with men other than luring them into bed with me,” she said caustically, rising to her feet. “I owe Mr. Bettencourt a great deal. It’s only courteous to give him notice personally.”
    Rex’s lips twisted cynically. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. I got the distinct impression that Walter was quite relieved not to have to speak to you. I gather that Celia was almost