Page 42 of The Unwanted Wife

I tighten my lips. “Are you denying?—"

“I said, what happened between us shouldn’t have; I didn’t say it was a mistake.”

“Oh.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “But I thought—" I shake my head, trying to recall his exact words. “Doesn’t matter what you said. It was a rejection.”

“I’m sorry it came across like that. I wanted to leave before I did something I would regret.”

“Like sleeping with me?”

He nods.

“But why? Why can’t you, uh?—"

“Fuck you?”

“Why not, Nathan?”

“You’re Ben’s sister. You’re my best friend’s little sister.”

“I’m aware. And he’s going to find out about us at some point.”

The wrinkle between his forehead deepens. “Doesn’t make me feel any better about desiring you. If I had a choice, I’d?—"

“Prefer not to be attracted to me?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation.

A knot of hurt tightens in my chest. My throat closes. “So, I was right. You don’t want me.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I am so attracted to you, I can’t think straight when you’re around.”

“You have a funny way of showing it; you—" I gasp, for he’s grabbed my free hand and placed it on the tent between his legs. The unmistakable bulge which fills my palm seems to grow bigger under my touch. The heat of his arousal soaks through his pants and sinks into my skin. The pulse between my legs throbs in response. I try to pull my hand away, but he holds it captive. He swipes my palm up the column between his thighs, and a groan rumbles up his chest.

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth. “Now do you see how much I want you?”

I manage to nod, my gaze fixed on the flush which stains his cheekbones, the beat of his pulse at his temple, the tic at his jaw, the way his heterochromatic eyes blaze with a blue-gold fire that tells me he’s this close to losing control. And oh, I so want him to. He’s always been the unapproachable one. The confident one. The one who rejected me first, and again. The one who’s been able to walk away from me.

To see the naked desire on his features, the need in his eyes, the evidence of his arousal, hot and throbbing under my palm, the way the tendons of his throat stand out in relief, like the mountains jutting out from the earth you see on a flight path… All of it tells me, he has a hankering for me. So then, why doesn’t he do something about it? That’s right, my brother. I hold up my phone. “Call him.”

“What?”

“Call my brother. Leave him a message and tell him we’re together. Tell him you want to marry me. He has to find out at some point. Why not now? Let’s put this issue to bed, once and for all, so you can take me to bed.”

That strange look I’ve seen a couple times earlier flits across his features. It’s a mixture of confusion and sadness and resolve. He reaches for my phone and tosses it over his shoulder, so it hits the bed.

“Why did you?—"

He shakes his head. “We don’t want to disturb him when he’s on a mission and weaken his concentration.”

“But—" I begin, but he cuts me off again.

“Trust me. I’ve been there. When you’re away from home and missing everything and everyone—even though you convince yourself you aren’t. When you focus on the directives you’ve been given and try to carry them out, even though you may not agree with all of it. When you convince yourself the high you get from putting your life on the line is something you enjoy, even though the reality is that you’re shitting bricks…”

I can’t stop the giggle that spills from my lips. It’s a nervous sound, but it draws a quirk of his lips, and OMG, that smirk on his lips is so hot. Also, his cock jumps under my hand. My pussy clenches in response. My belly trembles. The smile fades from my lips. Our gazes hold, and the sparks that fly between us could light a cigar. This time, when I tug my hand, he releases it.

“So, you see, I do want you. Very much.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

I shiver. “But you don’t want to make love to me?”

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