Page 31 of The Wrong Husband
I notice how wide his palms are, how thick his fingers are, how broad his wrists are… And my mind automatically goes to how big that tent at his crotch was.Big hand. Big…thang, and his feet are big and wide, too. Definitely big thang.Ugh.
Also, big hands can be dangerous.
And, strong. And capable.My brain, traitorous as ever, still drags up the image of those same hands peeling off his shirt in the ER.
No. Focus.
I can’t let myself be distracted by his voice, his shoulders, the way his gaze coils around mine like a rope. Because what he’s saying isn’t sexy—it’sunsettling.
He didn’t just stumble into the ER. He planned it. He didn’t just see me again. He orchestrated it.
And now he’s standing here, in my space, acting like it’s all perfectly reasonable.
I should be panicking.A lot.Blame it on the fact that I face life and death situations daily. Or perhaps, it’s the fact that he introduced himself to my friends, and that Skylar is within earshot. Either way, I don’t think I’m in any real danger from him… Even though he has a dangerous edge to him. I’m more intrigued. I want to understand the reason behind his actions. And yes, I’m a tiny bit alarmed. But mostly, I’m curious.Why would he follow me?
"I know you won’t hurt me.” I jut out my chin.
"Oh?"
"Call it instinct, but I don’t feel threatened by you.” Not physically, that is. Emotionally and mentally…? Things are more complicated than they should be.I shove that thought aside.
“What I don’t understand is how you managed to arrange things, so I’d be the one treating you in the ER.”
“I pulled a few strings. Made sure that when my turn came, I was assigned to you.” He raises a shoulder.
"You can do that?" Then it dawns on me. “The nurse… She directed me to your bay. Was that…was that you?”
I can’t believe he’d pull something like this. Surely, he can’t manipulate hospital systems.
But then he tilts his head. “If you know the right people—and are able to motivate them in the right way—anything is possible.”
I gape, more stunned than alarmed… And God help me, more than a little intrigued. The confidence rolls off of him in waves, that calm, dangerous certainty that says he’ll always get what he wants. It’s reckless. Unpredictable. And there’s a strength there—a steadiness—that whispers I could lean on him if I let myself.
I shake it off. He’s run undercover missions. Of course, this would be easy for him. I will not be impressed by his resourcefulness. I will not be flattered that he’s set his sights on me. What he did was wrong, and I need to remember that. I set my jaw.
“By your own admission, you followed me prior to today?"
“I did.” He places his palms face-down on the table.
"Oh."
I should feel upset and pissed off that this guy stalked me. And Iamupset and pissed off, because I’d been sure my imagination was playing tricks on me.
"Do you know how many times I felt like someone was watching me? Good to know I’m not going crazy.” I glower at him.
“No one I've followed before this has ever been alerted to my presence.Ever.” His forehead furrows. “But you… I could tell you were picking up on my presence, and that it was upsetting you to think someone was watching you. I knew, I had to come out and tell you.”
“Should I be grateful?” I throw up my hands. “You infringed on my privacy.”
“Technically, I didn’t. I watched you from afar, and only when you were in a public space. I never once investigated inside your house. Never infringed upon your privacy?—”
“Thank you so much,” I snap.
“—and if things had gone according to plan, I’d have reported to James that you were fine, and you never would have been aware of my existence.”
“James?”
His expression takes on a tinge of discomfort, then he leans back in his seat.
