I actually look forward to our nights out.
Instead of stepping away—which is what Mina’s expecting—I move into her space, backing her against the pool table and caging her with my arms. My nose brushes hers. Her breath warms my lips.
“Gettin’ a little cocky for someone who still needs me to set up her shots.”
“Oh, big bad scowly man.” She brushes the tip of my nose with her finger. “Maybe I only let you think I still need your help. Maybe I like it when you touch me, and I play dumb so you won’t stop.”
The twinkle in her eyes could mean anything. Maybe she’s telling the truth. Or maybe she knows she’s getting to me and is proud of herself.
Only one way to find out.
I grab her by the waist and pull her close, our bodies crashing together, my hand strong and possessive against her back. “You mean touch you like this?”
Mina gasps, her eyes wide and dilated, her chest heaving. “Yes,” she whispers on an exhale, voice shaking, “like that.”
I swallow hard as all things Mina invade my senses. Her scent. Her touch. I consider kissing her and in that brief moment I think she considers kissing me, but I release her before either of us can make that mistake.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m playing with fire, touching her like that.
The question is echoed in Mina’s eyes as she puts some distance between us to set up her next shot. She licks her lips, a sign she’s working up the courage to say something she’s nervous to have out in the open. Everything about her demeanor changes. I don’t know if it’s because of what just happened or what she’s about to tell me.
“Benjamin came to see me last night.”
I scowl. What possible reason would he have to drop in outside of work hours? Whatever it is, I’m not a fan.
“At home?”
“At the office.” Mina sights down the cue, her tongue caught between her lips, then sighs and straightens. “He was prepping for our meeting this morning, went for a drive, saw my car, and stopped in because he was so excited about the plans for your build, he couldn’t wait to show me.”
Or, he was so excited about the beautiful woman all alone after dark that he couldn’t pass up a chance to see her without anyone else getting in the way. Benjamin is attracted to Mina. I have no doubts about that. Who wouldn’t be? Obviously, I am. As are the guys at the table next to us. And if the way our waitress keeps stopping by to stare means anything, she is too.
So why is this Benjamin conversation making my jaw clench?
“Your house is gonna be beautiful, Nathan. I can’t wait for you to see it.”
“With you at the helm, I’m sure it’s just about perfect.” Strangely enough, that’s not bullshit I’m spouting to make our relationship feel real. Mina is truly talented.
“That’s very sweet of you to say, but it’s a team effort. Benjamin said it himself. He and I are great together. Our brains just click. It’s a partnership made in heaven, and I have you to thank for that. Not only am I working with my hero, but he likes my work.” She beams and I chew the inside of my lip.
I should be celebrating that my interior designer and my architect are a great fucking match, but it feels more like a splinter I can’t get out. An itch I can’t scratch. An irritation I can’t solve. I start to ask if she’s still attracted to Benjamin, but Mina speaks up again, clearly nervous.
“So, uh, I have a favor to ask.”
“How much is this one going to cost me?” I joke, but she doesn’t laugh. Instead, she braces for impact. Damn. And here I was just starting to think she didn’t see me as a bank account.
“No more than you already owe me. But I was hoping maybe you could pay me sooner? Or in installments? I know our contract states I’ll be paid after services are rendered but…” She flares her hands, eyes meeting mine with no small amount of trepidation.
Something’s not right. The car. The clothes. The apartment. I used to think she was bad with money but the Mina I’ve come to know is more meticulous than I gave her credit for.
“Of course. Yeah. I can cut you a check first thing tomorrow if that would help.” I fold my arms over my chest and try to end the sentence right there, but my mouth has other ideas. “Are finances tight for you? Do you need more money?”
Mina’s lips part. Her gaze bounces across my face, filled with questions, with confusion, with gratitude and embarrassment. My heart clenches, something in my soul unlocking, unwinding…
Shit.
Look at me, running to the rescue yet again. I know better than to let myself care. I know better than to get involved. I’m supposed to be playing the villain and here I am, donning my white armor to fight for Mina’s honor. Everything we are to each other is a lie. She’s not my girlfriend and has feelings for someone else. Even if she needs to be rescued, I’m not the man to do it.
Mina inhales, about to speak, but I hurry forward to cover my mistake. “I mean, that’s how a boyfriend would respond, right?” I whisper with a conspiratorial smile.
“Ahh.” Understanding streaks across her face. “Right. Yeah. Very smart. Thank you.” She clears her throat then takes a long drink, looking embarrassed before hopping off the stool to distract herself with the pool table.
I need to get my act together and remember why I’m doing this.
This is a fake relationship.
I’m the villain, not the prince.
I can’t be caught up by the way she moves her ass. Or dream up ways to protect her from problems I’m not even sure exist. This relationship is a business venture that ends in just under five short months.
Nothing more.
Something about that makes me incredibly sad.
EIGHTEEN
Mina
Nathan is a much better actor than I gave him credit for. I actually thought he was concerned for me. For this precious moment, he looked like he genuinely cares about me. Like he could tell I’m going through something and wanted to help.
And I liked him looking that way.
After an hour of feeling my core tighten and my nipples pebble every time he leaned over me to adjust the pool cue, maybe that makes sense. I’ve never had someone flirt so suggestively, so thoroughly, pulling out my chair for me, opening doors, deep, intense eye contact whenever I talk, followed by questions that suggest he was actively listening.
He makes me feel appreciated.
He makes me feel beautiful.
He makes me feel wanted, no, needed, like he’s seconds from lifting my skirt, ripping my undies to shreds and burying himself to the hilt. And then, when we’re finished, we’d spend the whole night on the beach. He’d play his guitar for me, and we’d laugh and talk and connect until the sun shimmered across the sea.
No wonder I’m confused.
Attention like that would be hard for anyone to resist.
I line up a shot, half wishing for the warmth of his body pressed against mine, the brush of his lips against my ear, when Nathan’s phone dings. I glance over in time to see his eyes darken. His jaw tightens. His lips press into a thin line and his shoulders slump. All the light that had brightened his scowl drains away. He is The Prince of Darkness once again.
“Damn it,” he mutters, then locks the screen and banishes his phone to a back pocket with a gritty apology.
“What’s wrong? Is Ricky having another guitar emergency? Do you need to go?”
