Page 32 of The Unwanted Wife

I ignore him, carry the mugs over to the counter, then turn and gasp. Nathan’s standing right behind me. So close, the heat from his body is an all-encompassing shield which wraps around me as effectively as a lasso. He’s so tall, I have to tip my head back, and further back, to meet his gaze. His blue eye blazes with cold fire, while his amber eye flashes with golden sparks. The combination of those mis-matched eyes boring into me is like being pinned in place by a high-powered laser. His chest heaves, and his shoulders seem to swell. The tendons on his throat stand out in such relief, it’s clear he’s under great duress.

"Nathan," I whisper, "what’s wrong."

When he doesn’t answer, the silence stretches. The rage that crackles in the air is so heavy, so thick, so hot, it licks over my skin and makes my nerve-endings pop.

"Nate, please." I take a step forward, and my breasts brush against him. An electric current runs up my spine. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. He must feel it, too, for every muscle in his body turns to stone.

"Talk to me. Why are you so angry?" I say softly.

"Angry?" His voice is like flint being rubbed together; I can almost feel the sting of the sparks. "That’s not the word I’d use right now to describe how I’m feeling."

"Oh?" I manage to keep my tone from trembling. "Then how would you describe it?"

"I’m livid, Starling."

"Why?" I frown. "What did I do wrong?"

He moves so quickly, I flinch. The next moment, he curls his fingers around my wrist. Despite how tightly wound he is, his touch is gentle. He holds up my left palm, and without taking his gaze from mine, growls, "Why aren’t you wearing your ring?"

15

Nathan

"I, uh, took it off earlier because I didn’t want it to get in the way of the baking."

Her explanation is perfectly plausible. And the ring is big enough to warrant getting in the way of her work. So there’s no reason for me to be so upset. No reason to justify the anger that filled me when I heard Knox’s voice, the rage that overcame me when I saw Knox step into the frame of the camera behind her, the desperation that squeezed my guts when I realized he was there with her. Fact is, I was so overcome with jealousy on seeing Knox with her, I stalked into my grandfather’s office and demanded access to the private helicopter that’s always parked on the top floor of the office building. I also had my security team radio the traffic police and pull enough strings so they’d cut off the traffic to the road and gave me special permission to land—now, and in the future.

I used the Davenport name to get my way, and no, I don’t feel an ounce of remorse about it. If it means I could get to her in record time, that’s all that matters. And then I felt that burn of possessiveness when I saw the empty ring-finger. A coalescence of feelings stabs at my chest. Why am I so upset she’s not wearing my ring? Why is it so important that the world know she’s mine? Mine. Mine. Mine.

Some of my feelings must show on my features, for she swallows. "Nathan," she whispers.

The shape of her lips forming my name is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. My balls harden. My cock thickens. I bend my knees and peer into her eyes. "I shouldn’t be this upset about you not wearing the mark of my possession, but it bloody hurts that you aren’t."

"I’m sorry." She raises her palm and presses it to my cheek. "I didn’t realize it meant so much to you."

"I didn’t know, either. And when I saw my asshole half-brother talking to you, it felt like my entire world had fallen apart."

"Oh…" Her features soften. "How… How can I make it better?"

I place my hand over hers, then turn my face into her palm. When I kiss the soft skin at the base of her thumb, she shivers. And when I wrap my other hand below her hips, straighten and throw her over my shoulder, she yelps, "Nathan, what are you doing?"

"I could say I’m punishing you for making me envious, but I’m not going to hide behind that excuse."

"You… you’re not?" Her voice is breathless.

I shake my head. "I simply want an excuse to do this." I bring my palm down on her behind with a thwack. The sound echoes around the bakery.

She gasps. "Oh, my god," her voice catches.

"You like that, hmm?"

"Of course not."

I slap her butt again, and this time, a whine bleeds from her lips. The flesh of her arse jiggles, and fuck, if that doesn’t turn me on further. I want to leave my mark on that creamy flesh. I want to squeeze her behind and bury my face in the cleavage between her arse cheeks. I want to bury myself in her forbidden hole and make her come so hard, she’ll remember the feeling every time she sits down for the next week. The blood thuds at my temples. The crotch of my pants is so tight, I have to widen my stance to accommodate my arousal. As if she senses my thoughts, she squirms in my grasp, and when I grab handfuls of her ample arse, she shudders.

"Still going to tell me you don’t like it?"

She draws in a sharp breath, then murmurs something under her breath.

---