Page 87 of His To Unravel
Hunter’s eyes narrow faintly at the edges, though the easy smile remains fixed in place.
“Though,” Nathaniel adds, “I hear you and your fatherare in the middle of negotiating that acquisition with mine. Maybe we should step aside and discuss it.”
Hunter hesitates for a breath before nodding. “Of course.”
Nathaniel rises from his seat and then leans down to press his lips to my temple. “I won’t be long, baby.” His voice softens as if the sharpness from his last exchange has been carefully tucked away. The gentleness in his tone is for me alone.
I smile up at him, my fingers brushing lightly over his wrist. “Take your time. I’ll be fine.”
Hunter casts one last curious glance in my direction, but I ignore it, turning my attention to the steady hum of the restaurant and the glint of sunlight pouring through the windows.
The champagne glass is cool against my fingers as I take a slow sip, eyes trailing absently over the view of Central Park stretching below. Nathaniel has been gone only a few minutes, but the quiet left in his absence feels heavy.
I set the glass down just as someone slides into Nathaniel’s vacant seat without invitation.
“Caldwell’s got good taste,” the man remarks, his gaze lingering a second too long.
I glance up, meeting the eyes of someone younger than Hunter but older than Nathaniel—late twenties, perhaps. He’s pleasant-looking enough, with dark hair combed back and the kind of self-assurance that—once again—can only come from being raised with wealth. His suit fits too perfectly to be off-the-rack, and the glint of a luxury watch peeks beneath his cuff.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” he continues, resting an elbow on the table as if we’re old friends. “My name is David Matthews.”
“I’m just visiting,” I reply politely, though I shift slightly in my seat, wishing Nathaniel would return.
His eyes flick down, pausing—almostpredictably—at my left hand. The corners of his mouth curl, interest sparking behind his gaze.
“Well, I do hope you plan to stay a while. It’d be a shame if Caldwell kept you hidden away for himself.”
His insinuation hangs heavily between us.
I smile politely, reaching for the champagne glass once more to occupy my hands. “I think Nathaniel prefers it that way.”
David leans in just slightly, as if lowering his voice makes it less obvious he’s encroaching. “Can’t say I blame the man. If I were him, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight either.”
Before I can respond, the air shifts.
Nathaniel’s return is subtle, but his presence cuts through the space between us like a blade. He doesn’t say a word as he slips back into the seat beside me, his arm draping casually over the back of my chair.
“You’re interrupting, Matthews.”
David chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender as he stands. “Relax, Caldwell. Just saying hello.”
“You can say hello from your own table next time.” Nathaniel’s voice is soft, but the edge beneath it leaves no room for misinterpretation.
David lingers for half a second longer, as if debating whether to push further, but ultimately steps away with one last glance at me that I don’t return.
Nathaniel’s gaze follows him until he’s out of sight, but when his eyes shift back to me, the hardness melts away, replaced by warm affection.
His hand comes up to cup my cheek with a tenderness that catches me off guard every time.
“Are you all right?”
I nod, leaning into his touch. “I’m fine. He was harmless.”
Nathaniel’s lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’targue. Instead, his thumb traces the curve of my cheek as if to settle himself.
“Let’s finish breakfast,” I encourage softly. “You promised me champagne and coffee.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, and with a final brush of his lips against my temple, he relents.
