Blinking against the glare, she tucked her hair behind her ears and buttoned up the shirt. “To my own bedroom.”
His eyes were cold, focused. “I was under the impression you were already there.”
“Look,” she said, finding courage from the ragged tatters of her pride. “We’ve consummated the marriage. There’s no need for us to be in the same bed anymore. I’d rather sleep on my own.” She hugged her arms around herself. “I’ll…I’ll let you know if we were successful.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not that arrogant—it’s probably going to take more than one try.”
She bit her lower lip, trying not to look at the muscled upper body she’d caressed so feverishly less than an hour ago. “Well we can’t do anything for a couple of days anyway. It didn’t hurt during but I’m sore now.” Despite the humiliating awkwardness of the admission, she forced herself to meet his eye, aware that Gabriel would capitalize on the slightest indication of weakness with brutal efficiency.
He flicked off the light. “Suit yourself. But don’t try to use sex against me. I don’t play those kinds of games.”
“I’m not playing a game.”
“Aren’t you?” He snorted. “If you think I’m going to agree to carry on with a marriage where my wife saves herself for another man, you’re sadly mistaken.”
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