“I mean, how dare he?” she muttered to no one.
He was playing with her, toying with her, he knew exactly what he could do to her and he was using her own body against her.
He didn’t fight fair.
Well, she thought, two could play at that game.
With long, angry strides, she exited her room and went to his, half-blinded by fury, feeling as if her head would explode.
Not wanting to wake the children, she carefully opened the door to his sitting room and just as carefully closed it with a noiseless click.
The sitting room was dark but the door was open to his bedroom and a soft light came from there. She crossed the sitting room quickly and surged into his bedroom.
She’d caught him fresh from the shower, walking across the room rubbing his wet hair with a towel while another towel was wrapped around his waist. She noted that there were still droplets of moisture on his broad shoulders.
He halted the moment he saw her.
“Julia,” he said warily catching the look in her eye. His hands holding the towel dropped.
“Tomorrow, I’m leaving. I’m moving home to America and I’m taking the children with me,” she announced and she watched, with not a small amount of fear, as his face grew hard.
“The hell you are,” he replied, wariness obliterated and instant rage in its place.
“Watch me,” she retorted and turned on her heel, whirling around but before she got to the door, he was there, quick and quiet as a cat, and he slammed it shut right in front of her. She felt the whoosh of air as it whipped closed.
She jolted to a stop and then turned to him.
“I’m leaving,” she repeated.
“You leave, you leave the children behind.” His eyes were glowing dangerously but she ignored it.
“You promised you wouldn’t bring the children into it.” She threw in his face.
“I lied,” he stated calmly.
She pursed her lips, her fury a tempest behind her eyes.
Then, she hissed, “I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Oh yes, Douglas, I do,” she assured him.
At that, he advanced on her and she could no longer ignore the look in his eyes, their dark blue turning midnight. His lips had tightened and the scar came out in bold relief, making him even more menacing.
She retreated.
“You can’t make me stay,” she said, her anger melting into bravado.
He quirked an eyebrow, tossing the towel he was holding to the side. “No?”
He took it as a challenge that she should have been smart enough not to throw at him but she wasn’t feeling in the mood to be smart.
“And I’ll take the children with me, you’ll have to fight me for custody,” she threatened as he kept at her and she continued to retreat, walking backwards. He was quickly closing in on her, barely a step away.
“I’ll do it,” he warned. “I’m far richer than you and they’re British citizens, I doubt international law would smile upon kidnapping.”
“It wouldn’t be kidnapping, I have custody!”