Page 37 of Deal with the Devil

Maybe he’s sick.

I know every time Dad needs to see a doctor, Mom hounds him for at least a month before she finally gives up and makes him an appointment that he doesn’t dare miss, because she’s threatened him to within an inch of his life.

Is it my job as the fake fiancée to hound the man to get seen? Should I make him an appointment?

Does the man even have a regular doctor? Maybe I should get him in with mine.

“Do you have a family doctor?”

Kane’s eyes slide to me, and his brows draw together. “Why?”

“Curious,” I evade the question. “Just one of those things a wife should know.”

“No.”

“Ah.”

He’s still frowning. “Do you?”

“Of course.” His frown has yet to break. “I’m sure you can see mine if you need.”

“I don’t need a doctor.”

Typical man. “Everyone needs a doctor.”

“Sunshine.” He pulls in breath through his nose. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing.” I slide my nearly finished Santa to the table before I slide from the chairto move in close. He watches me, his eyes taking in my little butter yellow sleep shorts that peek out from the over-sized long sleeve that hangs down to expose one golden shoulder. My hair is pulled over the other shoulder in a thick, loose braid.

I know for a fact I’m cute.

Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I made sure of it before I left my room this morning. Made sure that when he looked, because Kane always looked, that he’d want.

I don’t know why I’m trying to tempt him. Really, I don’t.

The truth is that I’m not sure I’m ready for a man like Kane. I’m not sure I’m ready for any man at all—and yet…

Yet, I want him to want me. I want him to push me and—I want to push him, too.

“What are you doing?”

I don’t answer as I continue moving closer to the man. When I’m standing directly in front of him, I lean back against the counter and press my palms to the granite, lifting myself to sit on it.

Kane is still watching me, but the grump is mostly gone, replaced by curiosity, and maybe a little bit of heat.

I spread my legs wide and pat the counter between them, ignoring the pounding of my heart and thethrob in my core as his blue eyes drop between my legs and he wets his lips.

“Sunshine.”Did I hear that right? Did his voice just crack?“What are you doing?”

“Turn around and come here,” I instruct firmly.

His frown returns. “Turn around? For what?”

“First rule of peaceful cohabitation with a woman.” I give him a cheeky smile. “Do what she tells you.”

His smirk turns flirty. “Tell me more about this peaceful cohabitation.”

“Well—” My words are cut short when he steps between my legs—facing me. That throb in my core intensifies until it’s nearly painful. I haven’t had a man that’s so much—well,manbetween my legs in my whole life.

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