Page 76 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim

Again, without an invitation, he continues toward my bedroom. With as tiny as my apartment is, he has no trouble finding where he wants to go.

“I’ll pack myself!” I call, chasing him down the hall.

When I arrive, he’s already there, with the top drawer of my dresser open.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He digs through my underwear and bras and pulls out one of each. “These will do for now. We’ll go shopping when we get to New Orleans.”

“Shopping?” I scowl. “For what?”

“Clothing. Lingerie. Swimsuits.”

Annoyed at his high-handedness, I prop my hands on my waist. “There’s no need. I’ve got plenty of things.”

“Not that are suitable.”

“Suitable?” How dare he? “I happen to like everything I own.” And I’ve worked hard for the money that bought them.When I moved out, my parents didn’t allow me to take anything that had been purchased withtheirresources.

“My wife will wear clothes befitting her station. That includes underthings.”

The man infuriates me. “It may have escaped your notice…but I’m not built like a model.”

He meets my eyes and seems completely unconcerned by the anger that’s flashing at him. “I’ve seen every inch of you, Isla. And I can guarantee you that I think you’re better than any damn woman in a catalogue.”

My breath vaporizes.

“And I will most certainly have…” Slowly, lingeringly, he sweeps his hot gaze down my body, then back up again. “Requirements of you.”

“Requirements?” I manage.

“That are enhanced by beautiful undergarments.”

“Are you saying I can expect a repeat of last night?” I’m not sure which incident I’m referring to.

His nostrils flare slightly. “The first time we were together? Yes. You most definitely can.” He drops my bra and panties on the unmade bed and closes the distance between us.

Suddenly he’s in front of me, and I have to tip my head back to meet his gaze.

When he speaks, his voice is low and lethal. “Would you like me to give you an idea of what I expect? Now’s the perfect time.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Isla

“Absolutely not.” The longer I can go without him touching me, the better. “And as you said, we have a plane to catch.”

“Certain things are worth the delay.” He reaches for a strand of my hair, and I drop my hands to my sides as I take an immediate step back from the heat radiating off him.

Then thankfully he turns away to open a second drawer. “I’ll pack,” I mutter, needing something—anything—to anchor me. “Just…give me a minute. Please.”

He doesn’t move. Instead, he folds his arms and waits.

His presence is a shadow at my back.

I hear Brennan’s heavier steps in the hallway, a quiet counterpoint to Dorian’s stillness. My apartment feels smaller than ever, suffocating under their weight.

Calypso pads in, her tail flicking, green eyes narrowing at Dorian.