Page 89 of The Rancher Married the Wrong Sister
I reach for his plate at the same moment he shifts forward, and that’s when I feel it.
The slightest contact as our fingers brush, just the rough calluses of his fingertips grazing my knuckles, andoh...
His touch...
It’s more than enough for shockwaves of pleasure to blaze through my body, and I can’t seem to make myself pull away.
His fingers linger against mine for a heartbeat longer.
And then it’s gone, with Gavine suddenly jerking his hand back like I’ve burned him.
I stand there frozen, staring down at my tingling knuckles while my heart pounds against my ribs. For two weeks, he’s been stiffly careful not to touch me. Sometimes to the point where I felt like I had some kind of contagious disease. He’d hand me things without letting our fingers meet, step aside if I got too close, maintain that invisible wall between us at all times.
But this time...
Don’t go there,I warn myself.
This was just a freak accident. Nothing’s changed. The attraction in this marriage is still completely one-sided.
Chapter 5
TODAY, Gavine decided grimly.
Today, he would get rid of her so he could have his old life back.
The decision should have felt liberating. Instead, it sat in his chest like a stone as he stalked through the house, searching for his wife. Three weeks. Three weeks of this ridiculous charade, and for what? Jessica clearly wasn’t coming back. The whole damn arrangement had been pointless from the start.
He found Wednesday in the rose garden, kneeling beside a flower bed with dirt smudged on her cheek and her hair escaping its braid in wispy tendrils. She wore one of those soft, flowing dresses that made her look like something from a painting. Cream-colored with tiny flowers scattered across the fabric. Completely impractical for gardening, but she didn’t seem to care.
She was humming under her breath, some melody he didn’t recognize, and the sound made something twist in his chest.
Get it over with, he told himself.
Walk over there, tell her the marriage is finished, arrange for her to keep the house as compensation, and send her on her way.
Simple.
Straightforward.
But when he moved closer, deliberately keeping his footsteps silent, he realized he wasn’t planning to announce himself at all. He was planning to...
“Oh!”
She backed up suddenly, her soft bottom colliding with his groin, and every rational thought fled his brain. A blush stole over her cheeks as she realized what had happened.
“I’m so sorry!” She started to spin around, flustered and apologetic.
“Don’t be.” The words came out rougher than he intended, but he meant them. Because this, he realized with self-disgust, had been subconsciously deliberate on his part. He’d wanted her unaware of his presence. Had wanted exactly this to happen, her coming into contact with his body, feeling the soft fullness of her curves against his hardness.
She whirled around to face him, still blushing, and...dammit.
It was only for a second, her gaze dipping down before flying back up to his face.
But he’d still seen it.
The way her eyes had gone wide when she’d glimpsed the obvious evidence of what her innocent collision had done to him.
And he knew, with bone-deep certainty, that she still wanted him.
