Page 40 of Incognito

He dashed a hand across his eyes, knowing it would do little to erase the memory of the two of them: the creep holding Natasha’s hand against his chest, her body up close and personal with his, their faces inches apart.

Fury burned deep in his gut. Not at Natasha, who he sensed had secrets and wasn’t over her ex from the one time he’d seen them together, but at himself for being such a fool. For letting his guard down, for letting a woman affect him.

Worst of all, for believing in the possibility that he couldn’t control everything, that some things—like a real relationship—may be more important than responsibilities and arranged marriages and duty.

He drained the rest of his drink, threw the bottle in the trash, and sank into a comfy armchair, staring at the glittering Melbourne skyline.

This city enchanted him.

But not as much as Natasha.

Cursing his inner voice, he allowed his anger to fester, using the wasted emotion to keep him detached long enough to avoid barging down to the bar and wrenching her from her ex’s arms.

However, the longer he nursed his anger, the more it grew and morphed into something nastier, swerving direction away from him and pointing straight at the woman who made him want to do crazy things, like make a declaration of his growing feelings.

He could’ve sworn she returned his interest: the sparkle he glimpsed over dinner, the almost kiss in the jumping castle, her tiny satisfied sigh when she first wrapped her arms around him on the motorbike earlier today.

She probably thought he hadn’t heard it, but he had, and it had shot straight to his heart—lancing a few other interested parts of his body along the way.

That’s why he asked her to share a nightcap; to explore their mutual attraction, see where things could lead given half a chance.

Crazily, when he was with Natasha, he forgot about Calida and his impending duty. In fact, he forgot every damn thing but the way she looked, the way she smelled, and how incredible she made him feel. Being with her gave him a heady rush and he wanted more.

Hell, he wanted it all.

He couldn’t escape the responsibilities of his birthright, but what if he had a woman like Natasha by his side rather than a bride hand-picked by his mother?

The thought had insinuated its way into his head on the way home tonight and he’d wanted time to ponder it, develop it, and most of all, see if the woman in question had the slightest interest in being more for him than a PA or a friend.

From what he’d seen downstairs, he certainly had his answer.

He’d been a fool.

His mother was right. When the heart ruled the head, it could only end in disaster.

And like an awful train wreck, he knew he’d have a hard time turning away from Natasha and the havoc she’d wrought.

22

The throb behind Natasha’s eyes intensified and her fingers shook as she stabbed at the calculator buttons one more time, hoping that by some miracle the numbers would change the more times she entered them.

They didn’t.

She’d tried every permutation, every combination, shaving a profit margin here, skimping on a goods purchase there, but the answer never changed.

She didn’t have the money she needed for Clay’s last payment.

And she needed the money.

Now.

After what she’d just endured downstairs, she couldn’t wait another day let alone another month to get rid of him once and for all.

It had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed not to punch Clay when he groped her in the bar. It would’ve felt so good to wipe the supercilious smirk off his face, but what sort of example would that set for her staff? Not to mention the paying customers that could’ve strolled in.

Besides, she had more class than that. She’d never hit anyone in her life and she didn’t intend to start now, no matter how much Clay deserved it. Ironic, for a guy who’d attended the best private schools, valued appearances and his standing in Melbourne society above all else, he had the class of a slug.

With a resigned sigh, she pushed the uncooperative calculator away, sat back in her chair, and rubbed her temples, knowing being free of Clay would soothe her better than any massage or paracetamol.

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