Page 42 of Vegas Baby

“Another thing you have in common with Grams. The no phone rule is especially hard.”

“For you, I can imagine. You freaked out when I had your phone in the rental car.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, color dotting his cheeks. “Because you were holding it out the window.”

“You admit you were freaked out?”

“I will admit to no such thing.” Eyes dancing with an inner fire, he pushed from the counter, taking a step towards her and then another. She backed up, chin raised, her knees going weak. He reached behind her; hips close enough she could feel his body heat. Flashing a cheeky grin, he picked up the loaf of bread. “I need to cut the baguette.”

Heat raced up her neck and she gripped the countertop behind her. He was taunting her with her own attraction but two could play this game. “Fine, then you won’t mind if we are electronic free for dinner.” She snapped her mouth shut, regretting the challenge the second she said it. Why had she suggested that? Now she was obligated to carry on a conversation.

The entire purpose of this endeavor.

“I will if you will.”

“You’re on.”

“Fine.” He held up his own phone, hesitation furrowing his brow before he turned it off.

Raising her water bottle, she watched him slice the artisan bread.

His hands were strong, fingers long, and he had a light dusting of hair on his forearms. She’d felt the strength of those arms, the soft cushion of hair against the palm of her hand. Her nipples began to throb even more and she shifted on her heel. When had she turned into such a wanton woman? Never in her life could she recall this much physical stimulus while around a man. Crazy. Her stomach growled.

“You must be hungry,” he said. “Sadly, this won’t be done for another fifteen minutes. Do you want a piece of bread?”

“No, I can wait.” For things I shouldn’t want. A hot flush coursed through her entire body, from the sudden heat in the room or from her unexpected reaction to his nearness, she couldn’t tell.

Howler wiped his hand on a grey kitchen towel, the action playing across the tendons of his arms before he stepped from behind the counter. “Since we have some time, do you want to take a tour of the house?”

She nodded, relieved for something to do until she realized where he’d be taking her. To see her room, and his. Separate rooms for a loveless marriage.

Chapter Sixteen

Howler sat across from Raina at the dinner table and tried to keep his attention anywhere but on the tight-fitting black sweater hugging her chest. Her hair was curly, and it had taken every bit of self-discipline he’d possessed while on his tour, not to kiss the curve of her shoulder exposed by the cutout of her sweater.

Seeing her in his bedroom had been a new form of torture. He’d gone weeks without sex before but somehow this was different. She was his wife and sex was part of marriage, the part he looked most forward to but this wasn’t a normal marriage.

He needed to have patience and let things progress without tearing his hair out.

“So, what do you think? Do you like it here or would you rather look for a different place?”

She shook her head, a stray curl brushing her cheek. “No, this place is beautiful.”

“Miller owns tons of properties. Surely, this is small change compared to his homes.” Howler had worked hard for everything he had and while he didn’t possess nearly the wealth as Miller, he prided himself on his accomplishments.

“Miller has tacky taste; chrome went out in the 1980s but not in his world. I swear, his house is a throwback to the Reagan era.”

Howler stabbed a piece of broccoli in the quinoa casserole, the dish flavorful if not a bit boring. What he couldn’t give for a plate of Vicenzo’s mac and cheese. “Chrome? Hmmm. Okay.”

“Like I told you before, I don’t associate with Miller. The only time I see him is either at work or at fan appreciation day, so I’ll have to make an appointment with him. My mom will be an easy sell.”

“You have to make an appointment to see Miller?” Wow, and he thought his situation was strange. At least she didn’t have to get body-searched when she went to see her father. David. Fuck. Eventually he would have to explain about David. His shoulders slumped

She rolled her eyes, offering an exasperated sigh. “Yep, I have to make an appointment through his assistant.”

“I assume he doesn’t know about our getting married?” He hadn’t told his family other than Leo and Sam.

“You assume wrong. He does know and I’ll be honest with you, he’s pissed I didn’t get a prenup. Of course, our marriage contract spells out our agreement but he doesn’t need to know, nor do I intend to share my personal life with him.”

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