Page 32 of The Himbo and the Lord

A horrible thought strikes me, and it’s out before I can stop it.

“How do you know Chase?”

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Ru

My head snapsback to face him.

His words, his attempt at an apology were starting to get to me. Not an explanation. I still have no idea why he did what he did, except for my previous assessment... that he’s an arsehole. But just as I was starting to thaw at his words, he asks about Chase.

Is he jealous?

Him?

Is this a fucking joke?

Anger flares in my veins. I’ve spent all night and most of today trying to work him out of my system. I was winning as well. Mostly by being sensible and trying to reason with myself that if there was anything between us, if the feeling of warmth and contentment that rose unbidden whenever I thought of Nate was the start of something special, then it would be pointless anyway.

My life is in England and that’s never going to change, and he has his fabulous carefree life going wherever he wants with his equally free friends. He’s not going to give that up. He’s made that pretty clear.

So I closed the door on the thought of anything more, and let the two nights we spent together remain as a nice memory that one day I might be able to visit without the hurt he caused.

But now here he is, and he’s asking about another man?

He doesn’tgetto be jealous. He doesn’t deserve it.

I look at his green eyes searching my face for any sort of reaction. I’m not going to tell him the truth—that today is the first time I’ve ever met my father’s friend.

“He’s a long-time friend of the family,” I say, with as much nonchalance as I can manage.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands, his eyes flashing. Damn he looks good angry, which is not what I need right now.

“It is what it is.” I don’t want to explain any more to him. I don’t owehimany explanations.

“Fuck, Ru!” he shouts, his voice sounding desperate.

“No, Nate.” My own voice rises. “I don’t have to explain it to you. I don’t oweyouanything.”

His jaw sets and his mouth tightens into a thin line. I press on.

“I’m not the one who, in front of his friends, claimed he’s never met me before and that I was like some sort of deranged stalker. Someone to be ridiculed. Do you know what I was doing in that club and the two before it? Looking for you, that’s what. Now I see I really was a fool.”

I stop as his eyes widen, and he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times like a fish.

“Ru—”

“I told you, only my friends get to call me Ru,” I grind out.

“Look, I’m sorry?—”

“Stop it!”

I don’t want his apologies. I know they’re not sincere, and I doubt I’ll believe any explanation he cares to give, if he can even give one. I don’t want anything from him. I especially don’t need this overwhelming feeling that I wanteverythingfrom him.

He takes a step closer and I catch a whiff of his cologne. The memory surfaces of how I spent Sunday curled up in the space he’d slept in just so I could smell him for longer.

Desire heats my core, mingling with the anger that has me squaring up to him, hating that spending only a few minutes in his presence has my defences beginning to crumble. I can’t let them.

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