Savage Love
But instead, I stood rooted to the spot, my breath uneven, as his hand brushed deliberately close to mine—not touching, just hovering, daring me to close the gap.
“I’m not like the men you’ve known,” Zane said quietly, his gaze locked on mine as though he could see straight through me. “And you’re not as uninterested as you pretend.”
Anger and desire warred inside me. “You’re arrogant.”
“Confident,” he corrected smoothly. “And right.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him he wasn’t right, that I had no interest in a man who could make a woman scream behind closed doors and then pin me against a wall like I was his next indulgence.