Page 8 of Hostile Cravings (Wicked Cravings #3)

Chapter Five

TYSON

R unning my hands down my face, I climbed into the front seat.

Angie was driving me mad. Everything she did grated on my nerves and every comment from her mouth shredded them further.

But there were moments when there was something about her that drew me to her.

Like the way we’d spoken so easily about our sex lives, as if we talked like that all the time.

Or the way she’d slept in my bed, curled up and innocent, seeming so small in my enormous bed, my mother’s scarf clutched in her hand.

That she’d gone through my things had given me the urge to wake her and force her out, but something stopped me, that part of me that liked how vulnerable she seemed in that moment, that liked the freckles across her nose and cheeks, that enjoyed the way her eyes had greedily perused my chest before she’d caught herself.

And that was bothering me like a bite that wouldn’t stop itching.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me or why she was having this effect on me.

I hadn’t meant for her to fall. Hearing her ass hit the floor so hard had me cringing, but then she’d snapped back at me and the feeling had disappeared, the hatred returning.

She was such a brat; I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and snap it.

I flexed my fingers, remembering how her eyes had lit when I’d brought my hand up her neck in Armina.

She said she liked it rough, but I knew the type of men she let near her, the ones her father’s men vetted.

The rich and image conscious who would never dare touch the daughter of Vince Donelli in any way she didn’t invite.

And Angie wasn’t the kind to invite aggression, to want a man like me to take her, because no matter how easy she was or how experienced she made herself out to be, she couldn’t handle someone like me. She’d break too easily.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I questioned why I was thinking of breaking her, of being the one to test just how delicate she was.

I needed to remember that she’d insulted me at every turn, that mouth never failing to put me down, those brown eyes flicking at me dismissively every time I saw her.

The irritation returned, my prior thoughts fleeing as we drew closer to the hangar.

By the time I took my seat in the plane, watching her walk to a seat behind me, her head held high, nose in the air, and eyes avoiding me, the hatred had returned.

I half wished I hadn’t told Mason to cancel the flight attendant just to annoy Angie more, but I’d had a touch of softness after our moment in the bedroom.

One I was regretting as she sat silently behind me, just as she had in the car.

What was wrong with her? She never stayed this quiet for more than a few seconds.

I glanced back at her as the plane pulled out of the hangar.

She was looking out the window, biting her lip, her arms wrapped tight around her.

Only then did I realize she wore another of those flimsy dresses she wore in Armina.

She had to be freezing. Even though the weather was fine to me, she wasn’t used to our climate.

I turned around, dropping my head against the seat.

I had been hard on her at the house, and I’d seen the hurt in her eyes.

We were always nasty to each other, but I’d hit low, and I could tell it had affected her. Not that I cared, because I didn’t.

The plane took off, and I motioned for Finch to get me a drink.

“A little early, isn’t it, boss?” he asked.

“No sexy flight attendant to occupy me this time, Finch. Besides, with that one on board, I need a few stiff drinks to survive.”

I waited for her to reply with some witty retort, anything to knock me down a level, but nothing came.

I peeked back at her. She hadn’t moved. Finch fixed me a drink, and I motioned to her with my head.

He shrugged and returned to his seat. With a sigh, I took a swig of the scotch and let it go, thinking I’d take the silence as a gift from her usual annoying mouth and hating that I suddenly missed it.

The flight to the island was a few hours and Angie stayed quiet the entire time.

When we landed, my men disembarked first, scouting the area out, one heading to the resort to ensure there were no unexpected visitors.

Mason owned the island and had built a luxury resort on it, one that housed only a handful of guests.

The richest of the rich who paid a hefty price for the privacy.

We wouldn’t be alone, but the resort manager knew to pass every guest through Mason and me, so whoever was here would be discreet and no threat to me or Angie.

Regardless, I waited for Finch to return, glancing back at Angie, who still hadn’t moved.

Damn it. I rose and walked to her, pushing her legs aside and sitting in front of her.

Leaning forward, I waited for her to say something smartassed.

She was biting her lip so hard she’d broken the skin, and I nudged her foot with mine.

The cry she tried to stifle clawed at me in a way I didn’t like, and I reached over and forced her to look at me.

Her brown eyes were watery, the tears pushing to fall.

“Anj?”

“Go to hell, Tyson.”

I let her go, remembering how the cry had come after I’d hit her foot. I grabbed her leg and pulled her foot into my lap, her yelp confirming I’d found the culprit. Gingerly, I ran my fingers over her ankle, which was puffy.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked, looking back up at her.

“You would have laughed at me,” she said, trying to pull her leg from my hold.

“Did you do this when you fell?”

She looked away, and I realized she had. And I’d been the reason, making her fall when I’d been rough with her. My anger had caused this, and a wave of guilt pummeled through me.

“We’ve got the okay to move, boss,” Finch said, peeking his head in.

“Do you still have that first-aid kit on board?” I asked him.

“Sure do.” He made some noise as he shuffled through things to find it, but I didn’t take my eyes from Angie, who was questioning me with hers.

“It’s fine, Tyson,” she said.

“No, it’s not. It’s swollen.” I took her shoe off, trying to ignore how soft and delicate her skin was. Delicate. That’s what I’d called her while I’d insulted her, right after I’d basically called her a whore who men used for her body and her father’s money. She was right, I was an ass.

Finch handed me a bandage, and I wrapped it around Angie’s foot, ignoring her protests. When her ankle was secure, I picked her other leg up and pulled her heel off, handing it and the other to Finch. Gingerly lowering her feet, I stood, grabbing her arm as she tried to stand.

“I don’t think so, little viper.” Not giving her time to reply, I scooped her up and carried her from the plane. She was so light it barely seemed like she was in my arms, but having her there felt oddly right.

“Tyson, put me down. This is ridiculous. Do you do this to all your women? You drop them on their ass as an excuse to carry them to your room? Or maybe you just have to carry them there to force them to have sex with you?” Her attempt to insult me was half-hearted, so I let it go.

“Are you saying you’re one of my women?” I asked, raising my brow as I lowered her into the waiting car.

Her eyes searched mine, and for just that moment, I had the urge to kiss her. It was a crazy thought, one that had to be from the situation, or maybe the island air.

“I am your wife ,” she teased, giving me a flirty smile, one that erased all the harsh insults that had floated on the air between us.

“So you are,” I responded, brushing my thumb over her cheek and wishing her freckles were still present. “No more heels. And no more make-up, for that matter.”

“But—”

I put my finger to her lips, slowly letting it slide over her bottom lip, her mouth parting with a sexy exhale.

I needed to stop because a strange craving was building in me, one that was at war with how I normally felt about her.

It was a hostile craving that was fighting for dominance, fighting to forget that I despised the brat who was too young, too conceited, too self-obsessed for me to even consider touching.

She narrowed her eyes, turning her face from me. Taking my seat, I leaned my head back, trying to clear my mind. The car ride was brief, the island small, so the silence that sat between us didn’t fester.

“We’ve got the room next door and one of us will be just outside at all times,” Finch said, when I exited the car.

I buttoned my jacket, glancing around the resort and noting the massive security presence already in place. We didn’t take chances; the clientele was too important, and the resort was a solid revenue source we didn’t want to risk losing.

“This is more like it,” Angie said, causing me to turn to her.

She had left the car and was trying to walk around without letting me see she was still in pain. My jaw tightened, and I quirked a brow at her. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Walking into the resort so I can have a strong drink and flirt with some hot staff member.”

The tick in my jaw was sharp. She was back to her old self, that strange moment between us gone, just like always, as if neither of us could deal with what a moment like that might mean.

“Not gonna happen, wife.” A slight shudder went through her when I said the word.

Moving to her, I scooped her up in one quick sweep, ignoring her protests.

“I am not some object you own and can just toss around whenever you want,” she griped, pressing her hand against my chest.

“I do own you, Angie. Your father sold you off to me and now I get to toss you around whenever I want. If you’d like, I can throw you over my shoulder and spank your ass instead.”