Nathan walks me to the door of my building like he did on our past two dates, but this time he doesn’t say goodnight. He simply opens the door and follows me into the lobby.
“Um. Where exactly do you think you’re going, Ice?”
“Tonight, I’ll be walking you to your door, Spitfire.”
“But why?”
“You’re my fiancée now.” He shrugs. “Seems like we should take this relationship to the next level, don’t you think?”
My breath hitches, and my entire body feels like it’s engulfed by flames. While the thought of him doing all manner of unspeakable things to my body is all kinds of hot, having sex right now will only complicate matters. I need to keep a clear head at all times, at least until we’re married, because he already makes me feel like a giddy teenager. This thing isn’t set in stone yet, and anything could happen between now and the wedding. I figure a man like him could have almost any woman he wants, and there’s every chance he could stumble on a better alternative to me on any given day. The last thing I need is to be stuck dealing with a broken heart. So there can be absolutely no sex and no falling for him. Nil. Nada.
He slides his hand to the small of my back, and electric heat sears my skin there, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me. His lips graze my ear. “Relax, Mel. I mean walking you to your door. I don’t expect to be invited in.”
“Oh.” I nod. “Good. Just so we’re on the same page. Because that would only make things awkward and complicated right now, and who wants that, right?” I clamp my jaw shut, determined to cut off my nonsensical babbling.
His lips twitch. “I’m sure neither of us wants to complicate anything, Spitfire.”
Oh, but yes, I do. I want you to complicate me six ways to Sunday. I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying that aloud.
When we get to my apartment, I awkwardly shift from one foot to the other. Not inviting him in feels weird after he walked me all the way up here, but if he steps foot inside that apartment … well, I’m pretty sure all of my defenses are going to end up shot to hell because I’m already hanging by a thread.
“This is me.” I jerk my head toward the door, then fish my key ring from my purse and twist it in my hands.
He edges closer, crowding me toward the door until my back is pressed against it. My pulse races. “I’m not going to ask to come in, Mel,” he says, his voice low and husky. He plants his hands on either side of my head. “But I am going to kiss you again.”
Biting my lip, I stare into his dark eyes. I feel like a kitten caught in the paws of a panther. When I don’t offer any resistance, Nathan bends his head and seals his lips over mine. They’re soft yet demanding, and my mouth yields to his in an instant. When he flicks his tongue against the seam of my lips, I part them on a throaty moan, allowing him entrance. He takes full advantage, deepening the kiss as he presses his body into mine and pins me to the door.
I fist my hands in his shirt, pulling him deeper, my tongue dancing against his while he takes what he wants, all passion and dominance. A groan rumbles through his chest and into my mouth, mingling with the desperate, needy whimpers he’s pulling from my core. He rocks his hips into me, and his hard length digs into my abdomen. I rake my hands through his hair, but he keeps his firmly planted on the door beside my head. Needing some relief for the ache between my thighs, I grind against him and he grunts.
All too soon, he pulls back, leaving us both panting for air as we stare into each other’s eyes. I’m seconds away from inviting him inside when he presses a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Night, Spitfire.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks down the hallway.
I tip my head back against the door, sure of one thing. Nathan James is going to break my heart wide open. And I’m going to let him.
Chapter
Fifteen
MELANIE
“Have you seen these?” Bryce tosses a stack of glossy magazines onto the table in front of me.
I give them a cursory glance but don’t need to look to see what’s been printed. Tyler sent me pictures from various websites yesterday morning, along with three dozen scream-face emojis. It seems like everyone in the world is aware of Nathan and me getting engaged the night before last. All my work friends have called or texted, and I even got messages from a few old high school friends I haven’t spoken to in years. At least the photographs are flattering, and objectively, we do make a cute couple.
Bryce’s expression is full of unbridled glee. “This is perfect, little sister. The more publicity your relationship gets, the more the James PR machine will want to keep reports under wraps when your marriage ends because Nathan James is a cheating snake.”
I roll my eyes. All he needs to do is rub his sweaty palms together and he’d be a caricature of himself. “But he’s not a cheating snake, Bryce.”
He snorts. “Not yet.”
“Maybe not ever.” I shake my head and pour a cup of tea from my mother’s favorite china teapot. She took to her bed fifteen minutes after my arrival for our usual Sunday tea, overcome with joyful delirium over the news of my engagement to a billionaire being splashed all over social media and the gossip columns.
Bryce shoots me a look of pure disdain. “You have so much to learn about men like Nathan James, little sister.”
“Or maybe you’re just too quick to judge everybody by your own low standards.”
He lifts his hand, and I flinch, causing a dark laugh to tumble out of him. He drops his hand, and I wonder if he realized how bad it would look for me to be photographed with a black eye. Not to mention how my future husband would want to know where I got such an injury, and then this whole arrangement could come to a grinding halt.
“All I’m saying is that you’re convinced Nathan will cheat on me and you’ll be able to cash in on this morality clause, but he’s not an idiot. If he agrees to such a clause, he isn’t stupid enough to break it. And besides any of that, what if he’s just not a cheater? Because if I’m honest, he doesn’t strike me as the cheating type.”
As I expected, that only earns me a condescending sneer from my older brother, but I’m not going to sit here and have him talk trash about a man who has only ever been a perfect gentleman with me. He seems honest and loyal, the exact opposite of a man who cheats on his wife.
He snorts. “You’re wrong, Melanie. But even on the slim chance you’re right and he does manage to keep his dick in his pants for a few months, that’s why we’re going to put temptation in his way.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Are you talking about that damn honey trap idea again?”
“It’s the perfect plan, Melly.” He arches an eyebrow, and it makes him look like a Bond villain. “And if you’re so sure he won’t cheat, what harm could it do?”
“I’m not marrying someone in the hopes that he’ll cheat on me!”
He practically doubles over with laughter, which is abruptly cut off with a mocking smile. “And what’s the alternative, little Melly? That he falls in love with you, and you live happily ever after?”
I clench my jaw tight and mentally count to five. “No. But our reasons for doing this are sound. We both want children. And if you’re right that me becoming Nathan’s wife will save Dad’s business, this marriage will secure Ashley’s future, which is my primary concern. He’s a good man, Bryce, and no, we might not have a happily ever after, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy. That doesn’t mean we can’t raise children together and be friends while we do it.” I think of my own parents and how unhappy my father must have been in his marriage. “And you know what, that’s more than a lot of people get.”
He shakes his head. “You’re so naive.”
“Maybe so. But I’m in this for the long haul. So even if you do go along with your ridiculous honey trap idea, I wouldn’t divorce him anyway.”
My words are like a red rag to a bull, igniting his short temper. He jumps up so quickly that the French antique chair clatters to the floor, and he bangs his meaty fist on the table. “This is not up for negotiation, Melanie!” He grabs my hair and yanks my head back. Sharp pain sears my scalp, but I don’t struggle. I’ve learned enough painful lessons about the futility of such an endeavor. “You will marry who I tell you to marry, and you will do whatever the fuck I tell you to, when I tell you to do it. And if that includes divorcing that arrogant prick, you damn well will. Do you understand me?”
I press my lips together, refusing to answer.
He pulls my hair harder. “Never forget that you are the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. You are the reason Dad died. And if you don’t use that pretty cunt of yours to do something useful for a change, our baby sister will have to drop out of that fancy college, and I’ll marry her off to some billionaire too,” he spits, his expression twisted with rage. “Now do you understand me?”
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “Yes, Bryce.”
He lets my hair go, and I wince at the burning pain left behind. “Good girl. Now, let’s have some tea.” His gloating smile causes my stomach to lurch, but I merely nod and hand him the teapot.
Chapter
Sixteen
NATHAN
Elijah stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants and stares at the painting on my office wall. “We had some incredible summers at that beach, didn’t we?” He releases a wistful sigh.
I step up beside him. “We sure did.”
He tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes, like he’s scrutinizing each beautiful brush stroke. “I wanted to take Amber there this summer. Show her where Mom was born, you know?”
