The moment she was free, Starla sucked in a desperate breath of air, then swung her hand across his face with a sharp crack. She stared at him with eyes that could have burned him alive.
Fairfax tasted blood on his lip. A cruel smile touched his mouth as he turned back to her, grabbing her chin. His voice was a low, intimate growl. "I told Gabriel to handle it. Everything they took from you will be returned to your name."
Starla's eyes were like chips of ice. "And you think that's what I want?"
Before she could react, his mouth was on hers again, a possessive, punishing kiss. Furious, she raised her hand to slap him again, but this time he caught her wrist, pressing her palm flat against his chest, right over his heart.
He trapped her against the seat, his presence overwhelming. But Starla felt nothing but revulsion. She hated his touch.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea rose in her throat, and she gagged. The sound made Fairfax pull back instantly, his face turning black.
"Does my touch disgust you that much?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low.
She had actually gagged. The sound was like a dagger to his pride.
"Yes," she said, her voice clear and cold. "It makes me sick."
Fairfax looked like he wanted to kill her. But then, a bitter laugh escaped him, and he grabbed her neck again, his grip surprisingly gentle. "Are you just trying to make me angry?"
"You're overthinking it."
It was the truth. She was disgusted by him—by his kiss, his arms, his hands, his embrace. Any part of him that had touched Brinley felt contaminated.
He refused to believe it, convinced she was just putting on a show to provoke him.


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