Page 10 of Not In Love

When she opened her mouth, he raised a hand. “After three years, I hoped you’d see that Tia’s everything to me. But Muriel’s right that you’ll never trust me. So, before you bring another man into this circus, I want us to sign papers that we share Tia’s custody. My lawyer will contact you after the Cancun trip.” A scoff escaped his shapely lips. “You can count on me to keep Tia occupied while you romance your new man.”

With the same ease that grated on her nerves in all the wrong ways, he gathered the teacups and the plates.

Kash stared blindly into the rain as he stacked the dishwasher. Then, as he passed by, he stilled behind her for long, silent moments.

Her heart thundered in her chest. She felt the light brush of his fingers against the nape of her neck before he closed the door behind him.

For the rest of the night, Kash rubbed her neck, the echo of his touch burning against her skin.

CHAPTER4

Two Weeks Later – In Cancun

Diego knocked twiceon Kash’s door, then stepped back, flexing his hands at his sides.

The corridor outside her suite was dimly lit, the walls a soft sand-colored stucco that glowed under the sconces. The warm, humid breeze drifting through the open-air hallway of the luxury resort made his skin prickle, like the night itself was closing in on him.

This whole Cancun trip, he’d fucked it up in more ways than one.

He should’ve left Kash alone. He should’ve had better control on his petty instincts to rile and provoke her. Especially after he’d seen her devastation that DP, the high school ex she’d lied about, was already in love with her friend Chaaru. And then her capacity to be genuinely happy for her best friend.

Instead, he’d viewed it as an opportunity, had wiggled his way into the couple activities with the rest of her friends even. And that very evening—desperate to provoke her—he had called her a prickly black widow in front of all her friends. Even knowing how heartbreaking her grief over Simon had been.

What the hell had he been thinking? Why did he compound his mistakes when she was the last person he wanted to hurt? She’d flinched when she heard the stupid haiku, before snapping her mask back on like it was fused to her skin.

So here he was, past ten in the night, pacing outside her suite, ready to beg for forgiveness.

The door swung open. Instantly, a thread of lush rose scent teased his nostrils, before sneaking into his blood, wrapping around his cock like a soft, silken hand.

Her hand.

God, but he was fucked.

Kash was a vision, with her long golden-brown legs on display in pink boy shorts. Her tank top clung to her thick hips and full breasts, skin glowing warm under the soft yellow light.

Dark curls kissed her shoulders, freshly washed and framing a face scrubbed clean of the usual makeup. Full lips were pursed tight. Large brown eyes rimmed red.

Had she been crying?

It hit him like a gut punch, that he had made this strong, fierce woman cry.

She lifted her chin, folding her arms across her chest, eyes sharp and flat like polished glass. The up-thrust of her tits made lust bolt through him like he was an out-of-control teenager.

“Come to throw more poetic insults my way?”

He swallowed hard. “No, to apologize.”

She didn’t budge. Just arched a brow, the corner of her mouth tilting in that infuriating, polished way. “Touched. Go ahead.”

“I didn’t mean to?—”

“Oh, you meant it, Diego.” Her voice skated on razor’s edge. “Every word. Don’t walk it back now. At least have the balls to face me with it.”

His shoulders tightened. This wasn’t how he pictured this going. Although, what had he expected? That she would burst into tears at his half-assed apology and fall into his arms? That she would regret throwing herself at several prospective hook-ups this past week?

“Why is this so hard?” he bit out, referring to how she’d provoked him at every stage this past week. Why couldn’t the damned woman admit that she wanted him?

Her brow lifted, cool as ever. “Hard to apologize?

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