Page 97 of Driving Him Wild

Mikkel?’

He nodded eagerly, and I couldn’t help the bite of jealousy I felt towards my nephew. I followed,

my spirits sinking lower when I clocked the place-settings.

I was seated as far away from Graciela as possible, next to Merete. I gritted my teeth, suspecting

my sister had been instrumental in the arrangements.

Short of making a scene, I had to let it go.

Dinner was a loud, boisterous affair. But Graciela picked at her meal, offering a shallow smile as

my sister peppered her with questions. I wasn’t surprised when she excused herself the moment the

second course was cleared away, to go to the bathroom. I stared at her back as she disappeared down the hallway, refocusing on my family when the throat cleared loudly. My mother was staring at me,

her gaze a mixture of curiosity and sympathy.

‘Whatever’s going on, son, you need to fix it. Fast.’

I nodded, a curious little lump in my throat as I contemplated hunting her down again. Going down

on my knees to beg forgiveness. I didn’t give a fuck who saw me. But perhaps it was best to give her a little time to cool down?

Five minutes later she hadn’t returned, and my foot was bouncing again.

Bloody hell.

Was it supposed to be this complicated? Was reaching for the most perfect thing I’d ever

experienced supposed to be this hard?

I snorted under my breath. Of course it was. I’d nearly lost a couple of fingers climbing mountains all over the world. But regardless of how treacherous and agonising the climb, it was worth it every single time once I reached the summit. That kind of euphoria was indescribable.

It might have backfired spectacularly today, but there was always tonight. And tomorrow.

Cold, misery-filled shivers rippled down my body as I sat through the rest of dinner. They continued to surge, drowning out the sound of merrymaking until only my mother’s voice remained in my head.

He’s trying to prove his point. You’re a charity case. The poor little rich girl he’s taken pity onbecause he’s got nothing better to do. You read his invitation and allowed yourself to dream. Deepdown you know you’re not enough. You’ll never be enough.

I barely heard Jensen making his excuses to his family. Barely registered that we were leaving

when he approached, my jacket in his hand. I held myself stiffly as he helped me into it. Desperately holding onto the last reserves of composure as I said my goodbyes.

In silence, we walked out to the car in the freezing cold.

I felt his penetrating gaze on my face as I slid into my seat, through the tense drive back to his

apartment. My heart thudded dully as I walked through his front door.

A few hours ago, I’d been elated that he was sharing his private space with me. Just as he’d shared his cabin in Alaska. This was a bigger deal, of course. And, contrary to the guard I’d wanted to place around this whole visit, I’d fallen in love with his apartment the moment I walked in.

It wasn’t so much the stunning view outside the glass windows, but the testaments to his brilliance scattered everywhere. He loved what he did and wasn’t afraid to show it. He didn’t need to brag

about his talent. The evidence was everywhere. His apartment felt like home in a way that I hadn’t

felt at home anywhere else for a very long time.

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