Chapter 19

"Thank you." Casting a glance around the room, she spied her scattered clothes. "Would you mind calling a cab for me?" she asked.

"No need." Angel sat up, very much awake. Curving an arm around Buffy's waist, he nuzzled her neck. "Buffy darling, I can take you wherever you want. All you have to do is ask."

The maid smiled at them and scooted out of the room. With a hard fist to Angel's chest that sent him sprawling back on the pillows, scooted out of bed. Grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around her naked body, she let her gaze scanned the tray.

She spun around, the full fury of her green eyes blasting the man reclining naked on the bed. "Two cups...You planned all this. It's one thing to be seduced on the moment, but...but..." Words failed her.

"Seduced? You? But honey you couldn't get enough," Angel responded with a shot of laughter. Buffy dashed to the dressing room and into the bathroom, his mocking laughter ringing in her ears.

She locked the door behind her and, dropping the sheet, entered the shower and turned on the water, before giving way to tears of hurt, anger and bitter humiliation.

The room was empty, no sign of her night of wild sex or of Angel. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

The kitchen was empty, much to Buffy's relief, and crossing to where the telephone was fixed to the wall, she picked it up, and the line was dead. Leaving the kitchen, she headed for the study.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked in. Angel was sitting behind the large desk, his dark head bent over some papers. He looked up at her arrival, the beginnings of a smile curving his mouth.

"Good. You have recovered from your sulks, Buffy?" Rising to his feet, he strolled towards her. "They are not unusual for a pregnant lady."

Her eyes took in his large form, casually dressed in jeans and blue denim shirt; he looked disgustingly good. His hand reached out to her shoulder, but hanging onto her anger, she shrugged it off, moving around him. "I want to call a cab." She swung on her heel to face him again. "I am leaving today."

"Are you, now?" Angel drawled softly, closing the door and leaning back against it.

"I don't care what you think. I want to go today," she ended furiously, only to find her shoulders gripped with fingers of steel.

"And...as I told you last night, I want you to stay." His voice was low and dangerous. "But you obviously did not understand me correctly."

"You can't force me to stay here; you have no right," she protested hotly.

His hands were biting deeper into the soft flesh of her upper arms. His nearness was an aching reminder of the night they had shared and it severely drained her confidence. "You are not leaving here." Thickly lashed black eyes rested on her hot cheeks. "You're carrying my child that gives me the right, I'm going to protect both of you."

"Protect me?" she protested heatedly. "Is that what you call it? Invading a girl's bedroom..."

"Be careful what you say," he cut in brutally, "or I will be forced to remind you just how willing you were." His hand touched her cheek and stroked back to tangle in her hair. "And you will be again."

"No," she denied.

"Yes. We want each other, and in two weeks it will be legal. We will be married."

For a second, shock held her silent. As the full weight of his words sank in, a weak laugh escaped her. The memory of Darla was a constant reminder of his betrayal, even if her heart had leapt at his words. "You must be crazy!"

Ruthlessly he cut across her. "A man must protect his own against the world. I promised your father to look after you, and I'm intending to do it."

The hard contact of his body against her own attacked her senses. Buffy felt the color leave her cheeks and beneath her top a drop of sweat ran down between her breasts, but it was more from fear than arousal. Angel was not joking.

Numbly she looked him. "But I can't stay here."

"Stop talking nonsense. You're not going to leave." and planting a hard kiss on her trembling lips, he gave her a cruel smile as he set her free, he brushed past her and reassumed his seat behind the oak desk.

"You...are...crazy..." Buffy said, enunciating each word slowly and clearly as if taking to a child. "I'm getting out of here, and you can't stop me."

Angel lounged back in the leather chair; one brow arched sarcastically, a grin twisting his mouth. "I know you're staying here," Angel answered back with scorn. "We'll visit Jenn latter if you like. I have already told her we're getting married. I felt it was the correct thing to do, as she is like a mother to you. But you will remain here. It is for your own good."

"My own good?" she echoed.

"Yes and we will share a bed."

He left her standing there, speechless and walked out of the room.

Stunned by the absolute finality of his last statement, Buffy stood looking at the door for a long moment, hoping against hope that Angel would return and tell her it was all a joke.

He wasn't getting away with it, Buffy vowed. She shot out of the study and made straight for the front door. An hour later, after walking around the fence, she was ready to give up. When she had tried to leave, a security guard on the gate had simply grinned and pretended he didn't speak English, but Buffy knew he did.

Lunch was a silent event, with Buffy seated at Angel's side in the formal dining room, sulkily pushing the food around her plate, quite unable to eat it. The events of last night and the morning had left her feeling like a rag doll, and it was all Angel's fault. She shot him a frustrated glance. They obviously hadn't affected him at all; he was eating as if he had not touched food for weeks. "Pig." She muttered to herself, but he heard.

"Sorry? What did you say?" he enquired softly, lifting his head and looking at her with a serious gaze.

"I said you look hungry," she said, not wanting to start an argument. She was too weary.

"I am a big man; I have a big appetite...as you know," he replied, and his sensual mouth curved in a wicked smile at the sudden surge of color in her face.

"You're a pig," she retailed. All thought of appeasing him vanished at his sexual teasing.

He shrugged and returned to eating. After strolling around the grounds once again, in the futile hope that she might have missed a way out the first time, Buffy returned hot and exhausted to her bedroom.

Buffy's furious resentment was still simmering when Angel joined her at the dinner table that night. She listened as he talked quietly but impersonally about work, but she made no effort to prolong the conversation. Instead, as soon as the maid had served the dessert, she excused herself with, "Not for me. I might get fat," and bolted from the room.

She went to bed, taking care to lock the door behind her. The stress and strain of the past hours had finally caught up with her. She knew that she should be making plans to escape. Groaning she buried her head in the pillow, and surprisingly she fell asleep.

Buffy awoke some time later from a beautiful dream, in which her perfect mate was declaring his undying love, to find that a large male hand was cupping and caressing her breast. Another was tracing the line of her thigh, and a warm male mouth was nuzzling her ear.

"Angel?" She swallowed. "How did you get in?" she asked in a voice that trembled.

"I climbed up onto the balcony, but does it matter?" he demanded, and then her lips were covered with a hard mouth and he was kissing her with a devilish sensuality that made her mind spin.

He was right again; it didn't matter...She tried to resist, but in the lingering aftermath of her dream-filled sleep her languorous body was all too eager to respond to his touch. Angel's lips left hers to seek the rosy peak of her breast. They moved lower down, touching her body with tantalizing, teasing strokes and kisses. At this point she gave up the fight. She clasped her hands around his neck and offered up her body in willing surrender.

"You want me. You can't help yourself," Angel declared with a silky triumph. She could not deny him.

Much latter she lay, beside him. Her body was tired but her mind was in turmoil. They had shared most beautiful act between two people, and all she felt was a burning shame at her helpless surrender. She eased herself up the bed and looked down at Angel. His large body was spread across the mattress, naked and totally relaxed, his muscular chest moving gently in the even rhythm of sleep.

Her eyes lingered on his face. With his eyes closed his mouth relaxed in a soft smile, he looked so much younger.

Sighing softly, Buffy eased herself off the bed. She glanced at Angel as she crossed stealthily past the foot of the bed. His brow furrowed into a frown as she watched. His sleeping thoughts were no more inspiring than her waking ones; she thought sadly, strolling across to the window and staring to the garden bellow.

"No...no...no!" The shout made Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Angel!" She went back to the bed. He was groaning, muttering unintelligible sound and words. His face was twisted in agony, his long legs thrashing around the bed. "Angel, please."

His naked body was bathed in sweat. He was having a nightmare that much was obvious but Buffy had no idea what to do. Tentatively she reached out her hand and stroked his brow...Like a steel manacle Angel hand closed around her wrist.

"You can't leave me, I won't let you," he growled. His eyes opened, wild and unfocused and Buffy felt herself being dragged across his strong torso.

"Angel...Angel, please."

"Buffy?" His dark gaze settled uncertainly on the tumbled mass of her blond hair. "Buffy...you're not a dream?"

His big arms curled around her and he hugged her to him. "God...I'm sorry. I didn't frighten you...did I?"

"No." She tried to wriggle out of his embrace, but he held her firm.

"Shh, Buffy. I've got you. Go back to sleep."

"No, Angel. I want to go." She felt his body tense beneath her. "You can't make me a captive forever."

Buffy alternately begged, pleaded and yelled, trying to get Angel to see sense but it was no good. When the maid arrived with the coffee Angel was up and dressed, and Buffy was frowning at him in frustration.

For the next two days Angel went out of his way to try to entertain her. At breakfast the first day he suggested a trip to beach, and the next day a trip to the Mountains. But she rejected all his suggestions, determined to ignore him.

But at night it was not so easy. The key to her bedroom door had mysteriously disappeared. Angel simply walked in and within minutes overcame her pathetic attempts at resistance. But she was fighting herself as much as him. She wanted him; she loved him.

On the fifth morning, after another night as a helpless slave to his sexual expertise, Buffy was drinking the coffee with the sheet tucked firmly around her breasts. It was stupid, she knew. Angel had seen her naked, knew every inch of her body, but she couldn't feel comfortable with him. They came together in the night, but in the light of day she could barely look at him.

Her warm milk finished, she put the cup down on the tray by the bed and raised her head. Angel was leaning against the railings of the balcony, a coffee cup in one hand. His only covering was a white towel, slung low around his hips. Why didn't he just get dressed and leave? She thought bitterly, her green eyes fixed on the back of his head.

He turned and their eyes met, hers burning with resentment and his clearly scornful, "Clutching that sheet does not hide your charms. I don't know why you even bother."

"Not everyone is an exhibitionist like you," she shot back, giving his bronzed chest and muscular legs a ridiculous glance that did not quite come off. She gulped at the obvious bulge beneath the white towel and looked away.

"I arranged the wedding for next Saturday. Is it ok with you?"

"No it's not!"

"Give it up. I know you want me as much as I do."

"You can make me want you. We both know it. But I'll never marry you. I want you to know that too." She spoke with such vehemence that Angel instantly knew she mean it.

"Is this because of Darla?" His voice sounded raw and she couldn't answer. She avoided his gaze and looked down, wasting time until he was almost explosive.

"Look at me Buffy, damn you!" he rasped thickly but she refused, hanging her head.

"I don't want to. I don't even want to look at myself. I feel cheap."

"What?" His voice was horrified and ferocious, as she had known it would be. She looked up with her face composed now.

"I can't help how I feel," she said steadily, forcing herself to meet his angry eyes. "I feel cheap, whether I should or not."

"You're afraid I'll disgrace you in public? Don't let it trouble you. I cope very well, even if I make you feel cheap."

"I didn't mean..."

"Save it Buffy." He grated. "You make yourself quite clear on every occasion. I have no doubt at all about what you think of me."

He just walked out and Buffy lay there looking at the closed door. It had simply never occurred to her that he would take it like that. She could not have chosen a worse way of getting herself out of this situation. Did he really believe she felt that marrying him would be beneath her?

It was three o'clock before Angel returned home. "Good, I was hoping to find you here." He strolled into the room. He looked as powerfully masculine as ever in an immaculate dark suit, but he also looked haggard.

"Where else would I be?" Buffy remarked cynically, refusing to be influenced by his obvious exhaustion. "You forbade me to leave, remember?" A tense silence followed her coldly spoken reminder, and he stared down at her with barely concealed anger in the taut line of his jaw.

"I remember. That is what I want to talk to you about," he replied hardily. "I had no right to bring you here, and I had no right to keep you here and force myself upon you. And if I thought an apology would do any good you'd have it... You're free to go if you want to, I won't stop you."

Tbc...