The Tycoon's Rebel Bride - Maya Banks Page 0,43

He’d immediately see everything she now wanted to hide. Things he hadn’t been able to see before.

“Go get cleaned up,” he said in a gruff voice. “I’ll wait for you here.”

Only too grateful to flee, she turned and headed for the bathroom. She grimaced when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Tawdry was a word that came to mind. Garish.

Sad.

She washed the heavy makeup from her face and tore the wig from her head. Then she unpinned her own hair and ran her fingers through it to tame it. A long, hot bath was extremely tempting, but not when Theron waited outside, likely growing more impatient by the moment.

She stripped out of the boots and clothes, tossing them aside. Then she realized she hadn’t brought in something to change into. With a shrug, she made a grab for the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and wrapped it securely around her.

Then she padded back out to the sitting room in bare feet, hands thrust into the pockets of the robe. Theron waited, standing by the window that overlooked the avenue below.

When he heard her, he turned, his eyes still flashing with unsettled intensity.

“Why are you here, Theron?” she asked, finally regaining her composure.

He closed the distance between them, once again curling his fingers over her shoulders. “You dare to ask that as if I have no right? As if you didn’t just do something incredibly stupid? Do you have any idea what I thought when I heard where you’d gone? The fear I felt? Or the shock upon seeing you on that stage, half naked for all those men to leer at? Tell me, Bella, what would you have done if someone other than me had rushed that stage? What if he had put his hands on you? Forced you to go with him?”

She blinked at his ferocity and the absolute anger tightening his features. Any number of explanations circled her frazzled mind, but she didn’t think he’d be interested in any of them. So she kept quiet.

Theron ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration before locking gazes with her once more.

“Did Marcus know you were doing this?”

Isabella bobbed her head backward in surprise. “Marcus? Why would he need to know anything I was doing?”

“I would hope he was more protective of what was his—or what he had staked claim on anyway,” Theron growled.

She blinked in confusion. “You’re not making any sense. Marcus has nothing to do with anything. He’s a friend. I don’t feel the need to apprise him of my comings and goings.”

Theron snorted. “A friend? Is that what they’re calling them these days?” he asked, throwing her mocking words about kissing back at her.

“What are you insinuating, Theron?” she asked as she folded her arms over her chest.

“I was here, Bella. Last night. I came up…to see about you,” he added uncomfortably.

“So?”

“And Marcus answered your door in only a bathrobe,” he snapped.

Isabella’s mouth fell open. “And from this, you assume I’m sleeping with him?”

“Are you saying you did not?” Theron challenged.

“I’m saying it’s none of your damn business,” she huffed.

A long silence fell between them as they stared at one another. Oh, she would have loved to have told him yes, that she’d slept with Marcus, but really, what was the point? He was engaged to Alannis, and she had no desire to make herself look promiscuous. He did still have control over her inheritance until she married someone else.

“I didn’t sleep with him,” she said tightly. “We were caught in the rain and he came up so that dry clothing could be brought to him. He changed into a robe, and I stayed in the tub until he was dressed. We ate room service and then he left.”

There was a flicker of relief in Theron’s eyes. Why? What could it possibly matter to him? And then he shook his head.

“Why do you insist on driving me utterly crazy?” he murmured. “Is it not enough that I spend my time thinking of you? Remembering the feel of your mouth beneath mine?”

He moved in closer, his breath hot against her face. Unconsciously, she licked her lips nervously as he moved and tilted his head in a dance around her mouth.

“You shouldn’t…kiss me,” she whispered.

“You’ve never had an objection before,” he muttered just before his mouth closed hot over hers.

Fourteen

I sabella’s knees wobbled, and she clutched frantically at Theron’s shoulders to keep from sliding down his body. He caught her