Page 22 of The Unwanted Wife

Nate jerks his chin. "Sorry about that." He flashes the guy a half-smile.

I blink. It was a half-smile, but still, an upturn of his lips, which is more than I’ve gotten out of him. If you don’t count the half-smirks. I swear, I’m going to tease a full-smirk and a full-smile from this man if that’s the last thing I do.

The parking warden nods. "Best you moved on now."

"Of course." Nate nods, then rolls up his window and eases the car onto the road. He drives down, then turns at the next crossroad, and back onto a thoroughfare. He follows the flow of traffic until he’s back on the main road he veered away from earlier. We drive in silence until he reaches my bakery.

When he comes to a stop, I reach for the handle to open the car door when?—

"Starling, you haven’t paid your due," he rumbles.

"D-d-d-ue?" I curse myself for stuttering. I’m not afraid of him. Nathan would never hurt me. In fact, I feel safe with him. I always have. From the moment I first saw him, I knew he’d protect me. And it’s not only because he’s a former Marine. There’s something solid about him, something which invites me to trust him, but which also excites me. It’s a combination that tells me, if I ever need help, he’ll be there for me.

It’s no wonder he’s my brother’s best friend. I’d be so much more comfortable if he were on duty with Ben. He’d make sure to back him up if he needs help. He’d do anything to keep Ben safe. But nothing's going to happen to Ben.

I square my shoulders. He's going to complete his tour and come back and marry the love of his life and have lots of children.

So what if he seemed pensive as he was leaving? That's normal. He was leaving a newly discovered love behind; that’s why he seemed upset. So what if I haven’t heard from him as often as usual? He’s probably been using his downtime to call his girlfriend. He's a seasoned Marine. He'll find his focus. He’ll put everything behind him and zero in on the job at hand. He’ll fulfill his duties and be back before I know it. Yep, he will.

I turn to Nathan. "You mean, because I distracted you while you were driving?"

He nods slowly.

"That’s not my fault," I protest.

"Oh?" He goes preternaturally still. So still, he’s like a marauder marking his prey, knowing full-well he's not going to let his quarry escape. A current of electricity squiggles in my belly. The thrill of anticipation sparks at my nerve-endings. I reach for the door, and he doesn’t stop me.

"Indeed." I nod. "Not my fault you were taken in by how I licked my ice cream cone. Bet you were imagining something else in its place, huh?"

His gaze widens, and something sparks in the depths of those mismatched eyes, but he banks it. His lips curl. "My creative powers are not as developed as yours. Perhaps, it's you who wishes your visions would materialize."

It’s my turn to stare. Now, that’s one way of turning the tables on me. I’d do well not to underestimate my brother’s best friend.

"And if I said there’s an element of truth to what you’re saying?"

"Then I’d say, I’ll have it out of you yet. Besides, I always collect my dues."

"I don’t doubt you, but"—I glance about the car, then back at him—"you’ll have to catch me first."

I shove the door open and jump out.

11

Nathan

She races for the steps leading up to her flat. I push my own door open and follow at a leisurely pace. Mainly, because I want to give her a head-start. Also, because she may not realize it, but I'm the one in control here. The vixen may have teased me with the way she licked that frozen dessert, and I admit, I got turned on by it. But she was aroused, too. I could tell by the way she wiggled in her seat, how she squeezed her thighs together, how the pulse at the base of her neck increased in intensity, how her shoulders rose and fell. How she monitored my reaction, and how her own mirrored mine.

We affect each other, and that's the truth. I might have tried to deny it in the years we were apart, but I never forgot her response to my kiss. I’ve never gotten over how she felt in my arms. There’s not a single morning I haven’t woken up without thoughts of her crowding my mind. Not a single night has passed when I haven’t wished I could taste her again. The chemistry between us blew my mind. It filled me with craving, a hankering which has grown over the years. There’s no question that I'm following her in. No question that I’m going to mount the steps, reach her apartment and push open the door—which, by the way, she hasn’t locked.

I step inside and let the door shut behind me with a bang that echoes through the space. That should give her enough notice that I’m here, and that I’m going to find her. I raise my head and sniff the air—and maybe it’s my imagination, but I can smell her sweet cherry-blossom scent under the smell of freshly-baked bread. I follow it to the door of the bathroom, but when I push it open, she’s not there.

I blink, turn, survey the space, then draw in a deep breath, and fill my lungs with Skylar. It has the predictable effect—my thighs harden, my groin stiffens, and my cock stabs against the restraint of my pants.

That yearning inside me swells to a full-blown craving. What I wouldn’t give for one taste of her. Just one lick of her lips, one bite of that peach of her behind, one squeeze of her soft tits. Goddam. I curl my fingers into fists and shake my head to regain my composure. This time, when I look around the space, I notice the door on the far side of the studio. I must have missed it because it blends into the woodwork. But it’s slightly ajar, which is why I notice it now. I stalk toward it, pull it open and step onto a small landing.

I climb the ladder onto the roof and find her sitting on the ledge, with her legs dangling over. Around us, the city spreads out. I walk over and sit down next to her, copying her by pushing my legs over. We sit for a few seconds in silence, then she says, without turning around, "You found me."

"It wasn’t difficult."

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