Only God knows how I yearn to be in his arms again.

“W-what?” I mumble, bewildered.

“I don’t like repeating myself, Natalie,” he warns, his jaw clenched.

“W-wait. But I have work to do.”

Looking down, I focus my gaze on my sneakers like a bashful teenager. When he doesn’t respond, I watch his leather shoes approach and stop a foot away from mine.

“Now!” He growls over me icily.

I flinch in fright, feeling a tear escape the corner of my eye.

Shit. What a baby!

Rooted to the ground, my hands grow sweaty, and my knees grow weak all over again. Tears begin to stream down my cheeks from the overwhelming mix of emotions. I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. So, I bow my head, not moving an inch.

Chapter 12

DERIK

S eeing Natalie cry strikes me to my core, accelerating my heartbeat. In the three years that I’ve known her, Natalie has never shed a tear in front of me. She’s always put on a strong and independent face. What have I done to make her burst into tears like this?

Clenching my hands into fists, I sigh exasperatedly, lost for patience and not knowing how to coax her.

I never have been good with women, much less an emotional one. But seeing

her in such a state makes my heart ache. It wasn’t my intention to snap at her, but seeing her pressed up against Mason Moore made me see red. It took all my self-control to not grab him by the collar and beat the shit out of him.

I’ve never been the violent type, but I have an animal instinct that triggers when the protector in me senses a threat. I can’t bear the idea of another man touching her.

“Don’t cry…” I speak in as gentle a voice as I can muster, tilting her chin with my fingers so that our gazes meet. Her eyes and nose are red, making her look like a child throwing a tantrum. She pouts and then purses her lips petulantly.

When she looks away, it almost makes me laugh, but I hold it in. Since when has she been this adorable?

“Why are you here? I thought you were in Vegas,” she grumbles glumly as she takes a step away from my grasp.

I raise a brow then cross my arms over my chest, my gaze not leaving her face. She wipes her tears away and looks at me defiantly, but the beet-red blush on her cheeks betrays her front.

I snort then shrug.

“I came to check your work, of course,” I reply dismissively.

To ensure that she doesn’t get the wrong idea about our relationship, I’ve deliberately avoided her for several weeks. I knew that she was mad at me, but not to the point of wanting to move out. It was so sudden that I found myself helplessly agreeing.

I don’t want her to leave.

It’s my responsibility to ensure she’s comfortable and safe. But lately, it feels more like a personal need than an obligation–like her safety and comfort are more important than my own. It’s strange, but just the idea of her ever being harmed makes me anxious and enraged.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. My team is of the highest caliber and has been working strenuously to guarantee the standards of Lewis Corporation are met and exceeded. You may look down on me, but I’m very professional when it comes to my work. Unlike someone, I take responsibility for everything I lay my hands on.”

I stiffen, feeling my brow twitch. Her words are sharper than usual today.

“That’s good. But let me remind you Ms. Quinn, work is not a place for you to flirt with your colleagues.”

She scoffs, glaring at me boldly.

“I wasn’t aware that Mr. Lewis has such a creative imagination.”

“Do I?”

The conversation is getting very petty, but she’s stirred the seething anger I’m trying hard to suppress.

“You don’t?”

Angrily, I grasp her upper arm and forcefully drag her toward the car. When she persistently protests with her little punches, I scoop her small figure into my arms and impatiently deposit her into the passenger seat.

“Behave,” I order, without waiting for her to respond before flinging the door shut.

As I stride around the hood of the car, I see Mason standing a few feet away with a blueprint tube in his hand. I shoot him a disdainful look before getting into the driver’s seat.

The flight from Las Vegas to Tucson wasn’t long, but the accumulation of restless nights is starting to take a toll on my mental state. Maybe that’s why I’m so irritable today.

Is it?

“I can see that you’re pissed off, but just because you’re my guardian doesn’t mean you have the right to make me your emotional punching bag.”

I grit my teeth as my hands grip the steering wheel.

“I have never done such a thing.”

“You’re doing it right now!”

I snort and tilt my head to face her, my mouth curling into a mocking grin.

“What a ridiculous accusation, Natalia”

She pauses, her eyes widening in surprise and rage, but quickly regains her composure and averts her gaze while securing her seatbelt.

“It’s Ms. Quinn, we’re at work,” she corrects.

“You’re in my car. This isn’t work,” I point out smugly, feeling impatient.

“Please–"

I swoop toward her, planting a small kiss on the corner of her mouth just so she’ll shut up. Her breath is warm, and it smells a little like her favorite orange juice in the morning. The familiar rosy essence of her shampoo is gentle, yet the scent takes wild punches at my gut, and I find it hard to contain my longing to indulge in those soft, supple lips.

Her sinfully sweet, silky, tender lips…