“I gave her a direct command.”
Tonya’s petty jealousy toward the impossibly lovely princess was buried beneath a surge of outrage. She moved forward, not halting until she had to tilt back her head to glare at the prince who stood there with such supreme indifference.
“You . . . pig.”
Magnus blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re allowing the woman you once intended to make your wife to be shunned because she didn’t obey your command?”
“It’s her duty.”
“While your duty is doing whatever the hell you want, including kissing me?” she accused.
A sudden flush touched his cheeks, an emotion she couldn’t read flaring through the cognac eyes.
“You didn’t object at the time.”
Tonya grimaced at the direct hit.
Of course she hadn’t objected. Hell, she’d been an eager participant, even though she’d known he belonged to another.
Once again, she’d allowed her stupid hormones to overcome her common sense.
Christ. What was it with her and being attracted to the wrong guys?
Not only wrong, but completely inaccessible?
No doubt a psychiatrist would tell her that it was simply a case of wanting what she couldn’t have.
She thought it was a pain in the ass.
“Because I was temporarily insane, you moron,” she snapped, lifting her fist to bang it against his chest.
Scowling, he grasped her wrist, careful to keep from bruising her pale skin. “Why are you so angry?”
Tonya had a dozen reasons.
Most of them had to do with her unwanted attraction to an arrogant jackass who could treat his fiancée as if she were some disposable piece of property.
“Why did she refuse to return with you?” she demanded.
His lips curled in disdain. “She claimed that an Oracle had demanded her services, but it was obvious that she has developed feelings for the vampire.”
“Oracle?” Tonya was momentarily distracted. “What Oracle?”
“Ask your precious Anasso.”
She frowned at the odd words. “He isn’t mine.”
Magnus tightened his hand on her wrist, tugging her close enough that the heat of his body seared through her tiny, spandex dress.
“You answer to him.”
“Wrong,” she countered. “I answer to Viper, who pays the bills. Not all of us happen to be a princess.”
He leaned down until they were nose to nose. “You are too outspoken.”
“Tough shit.” She didn’t back down an inch. If he thought he could intimidate her, then he was in for a very big disappointment. She dealt with drunken trolls on a regular basis. “Why are you here?”
“Where should I be?”
She desperately tried to pretend that the stroke of his thumb against her inner wrist wasn’t sending arrows of pleasure darting through her body.
She didn’t want to be so vulnerable to his touch.
“You came to search for Fallon, didn’t you?”
His gaze moved slowly over her face, at last stopping to study the full curve of her lips. “I did.”
“Now you’ve found her.” She pointed out the obvious, not sure why she was pressing him. “Why don’t you return to your homeland?”
His fingers skimmed up her bare arm, even as his expression tightened with annoyance. “You sound as if you’re trying to get rid of me.”
An unexpected pain sliced through her heart at his words.
No. Oh God, no.
She wasn’t idiotic enough to want him to stay, was she?
“Once you’re gone I can return to my real job,” she forced herself to say. “The club needs me.”
His hand moved beneath her hair, cupping her nape with an oddly possessive grip. “And that’s the only reason?”
She ignored the question. “Are you staying because you hope Fallon will change her mind?” she instead demanded.
He frowned, as if confused by the implication he might be harboring a secret desire to reunite with his fiancée.
“Change her mind?”
“That she’ll return home with you.” Her lips twisted as she pretended she didn’t care what his answer would be. “Agree to become your obedient little wife?”
There was no hesitation. “The contract is broken.”
“A new contract could be written.” She carefully watched the impossibly beautiful face, searching for . . . what? Pain? Regret? Guilt? Relief? “If you truly want her as your wife.”
“It’s done.”
She made a sound of impatience. “And it doesn’t hurt?”
“Why should it?”
For some reason his flat tone pissed her off.
“God. You’re a piece of work,” she muttered. “Did you care for the poor woman at all?”
He held her gaze, his expression strangely knowing. “Would you prefer that I be suffering at the loss of my fiancée?”
Tonya’s annoyance faltered. Did she want him to be pining for Fallon?
Hell, no.
In fact, if she was being honest, a part of her was fiercely happy he wasn’t brokenhearted.
Still, she needed to know he was capable of feeling something.