The Russian's Furious Fiancee Page 0,19
she so promiscuous that she would allow a man to touch her that she didn’t respect?
“Eva,” Damon called out, his voice soft but firm as he watched her work through her reaction. He was concerned that she was turning that kiss into something more than it was. But it had served the exact purpose to which he’d wanted; to show her that there was an intense attraction between the two of them that she couldn’t deny. An attraction that would benefit them in their marriage and she needed to accept that so they could move on to the next step.
“What?” she snapped, still looking down at her lap, trying to hide her shaking hands.
“Look at me, Eva,” he coaxed, noticing that she was more affected by the kiss than he’d thought. That was both good and bad, he knew.
“I don’t want to look at you!” she countered.
He chuckled and moved closer. “If you don’t want to talk, then I’ll have to find something else to do until dinner is ready,” he said and started to sit down next to her.
As expected, she jumped up, almost spilling her wine in the process. “Fine! My day was fine!”
“What did you do?” he asked and sat down across from her like he’d originally planned, instead of next to her. He knew she needed space although soon, very soon, he wasn’t going to give it to her. His plan was to ease her into accepting their mutual attraction. But there was no way he would allow her to completely reject it.
She shook her head and looked up, glaring at him once again. “Why in the world would you want to know what I did today?”
He couldn’t believe she really had to ask. “Because I find you fascinating. And I’d like to get to know you better.”
She sighed and relaxed back against the extremely comfortable sofa cushions. “I thought the only prerequisites you had for a wife were a good hostess and procreator. Did I misunderstand at our lunch earlier this week?”
He chuckled, glad that the spitfire was back in full force. He was starting to become disturbed by the quiet Eva. She’d been looking distraught, forlorn, like he’d just stepped on her new puppy. This angry woman, still appearing ravishing and sexy as hell…she was much easier to handle and understand.
“I guess you sit around having lunches with your friends or shopping?” he prompted, knowing that wasn’t the case but he enjoyed riling her.
She tilted her head to the side. “What would you think if I told you that I teach investing classes for underprivileged families and am also a best-selling author of mysteries? That I spent the day at the morgue trying to get gory details out of the medical examiner on the latest murder victims so I can use those details in my own plot line?”
He threw back his head and laughed, thoroughly amused by the possibility. This woman, sitting so erect she might snap if she were any straighter, couldn’t write a gory mystery if her life depended on it. Romance possibly. But not a mystery. She was too sweet. And he also knew that she had a large trust fund given to her by her grandmother, had even reviewed her money manager’s investment strategy and approved of where her money was currently invested.
“So you don’t shop, you don’t spend your days going from one social function to the other and you’re a community activist. What’s your favorite charity?”
His disbelief in her writing and teaching skills actually made her feel stronger. It was wonderful that she could tell him the truth, and yet he didn’t believe her at all. It was like she was keeping a secret part of herself from him, from his all-knowing eyes and it helped her deal with his arrogance.
He’d also chosen a topic of conversation with which she was much more comfortable. It was a safe haven to discuss her charities, and she even considered it a fundraising attempt, although the man had been extremely generous with his donation to the recreation center already. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, just to have lunches and dinners with her? He must be crazy because Eva knew she wasn’t that special. “I have several charities that I favor, but not one that I prefer above any of the others.”
“So you’re a bleeding heart liberal, eh?” he teased, his eyes smiling at her and enjoying the banter.
She leaned forward to argue the merits of the charities she supported, unaware