Forced (1st book in The Forced Series)

Chapter Seven *REVISED*

Chapter Seven

Van would never claim that he had never been rejected before, but he had not expected rejection from a girl who planned on being his wife. Hazel had thrown his invitation out the window without even batting an eye. And damn was it a turn on.

The way her light hazel eyes had been assessing him made Van uneasy. Her eyes showed no emotion, almost as if she had already made up her mind about him. Admittedly, Van did not like that; being judged by someone who did not know him, and yet he found himself impressed and pleased with her. There was no fun in automatic submission. A little chasing was healthy for his ego.

When Van managed to pick his jaw up from the carpeted floor, he pointed out the room in question. She shot him a look that dared him to follow her, then set off. Van stood, rooted to the spot, watching her strut with utmost confidence to the door. She pushed it open and stepped in, dragging her carryon in her wake. In seconds the door was closed and the only evidence that a fearless vixen had just put him in his place was the lingering smell of strawberries in the air.

Not knowing whether to grin or be shooting back the heavy stuff, Van walked to his room, deciding that a shower was in order. For now, he would pretend that he was the only one there and that he did not have an insufferably sexy and annoying woman in his apartment.

Later on, Van stepped out into the living room to see Hazel standing by the windows, staring at the city below. Her face was pressed to the thick glass and her eyes were closed as if in prayer. The rapidly setting sun made her red hair glow and bathed her skin to a flushed pink color. She looked heavenly.

But by then Van had been able to remind himself why she was persona non grata. This beautiful woman had just become his problem, in more ways than one. Her very presence represented something he did not want; his father controlling his life.

Regardless, he would extend an olive branch and try to be civil.

"Do you want dinner?" Van asked, going up beside her.

"I... Yes." her answer seemed forced and reluctant.

Van managed to rein in his anger at her obnoxious attitude, but could not stop himself from retorting in a curt voice. "Look, if you're trying to play hard to get, drop the act. It's not doing either one of us any favors." He closed his eyes, counting to ten and sighed, "We will be living together, so we might as well play nice."

Hazel's eyes shot open. Play nice, he said. He sounded exactly as she expected him to be; an obnoxious, contemptible jerk. The hour reprieve she had, having locked herself away in his guest room had been spent firstly steaming over the fact that he had acted like every other male and had prepositioned her so vulgarly. And then she had tried to calm her temper and reason with herself that being angry and in a never ending war with him would be of no use for her. After all, if you can't beat them...

But after his speech, she was so over being polite, "In that case, I'll see you in the morning. Or not at all."

Mumbling to herself, Hazel pushed pass him, heading in the direction of her room. Her hand went up to her hair in its usual sloppy bun and she pulled the elastic from it. Her hair felt too tight suddenly. It spilled onto her shoulders and back, enveloping her in a curtain of red that perfectly matched her mood.

There was nothing that she would not give to be back in Chicago. On a long day such as the one she was having she would have made herself a nice warm cup of coffee, making herself comfortable by her windows, looking down at the streets. But she had already made the ludicrous decision to return to New Jersey and now she had to pay the price. And though the price was marrying a man who one could easily identify as an eligible bachelor or a model, Hazel felt as though the price was too high. Things were going to get out of hand, she could just tell. Van did not strike her as the type to roll over and play dead. She would lose control if she relaxed even in the slightest, so she would not.