Page 152 of Carnal Games

Observing the determined glint in my eye, he relents and sharply orders, “You don’t leave my side.”

“Not if you lock yourself in your room,” I mutter under my breath.

He squints. “What was that?”

“Be your shadow? Got it.”

Shaking his head, he gives me his broad back encased in a white shirt and navy vest. I frown when he starts opening the cupboards, forgetting his cup of coffee.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, since I arranged everything in his kitchen.

“Making you tea.”

I stare at him, stupefied. One minute, he’s drawing boundaries, and the next, he’s being thoughtful. “Your coffee is going to get cold.”

“I’ll make some more.”

Perching myself on a stool, I admire him. There’s something sexy and commanding about him pacing around the kitchen in his ravishing suit. It makes all the right spots in my body sing and pine for his attention.

When I snooped around in his closet on the second day of moving in, I read the labels. No signs of a brand other than Brioni, Ralph Lauren, or Tom Ford. When I looked up the prices online, it was quite an eye-opener.

The way they fit him so perfectly, tight enough to amplify the muscles he’s packing underneath, they have to be tailored.

Hell, even his socks cost more than some of my dresses.

He turns around unannounced, catching me drooling over him red-handed. His square jaw, darkened with light stubble, tics. Other than that, there’s no visible reaction betraying that he’s affected by me.

His expensive watch and gold cuff links shine as he places the steaming cup in front of me.

“Thanks,” I mumble, enjoying the sweet aroma.

He briefly glances at the engagement ring I’m back to wearing and moves to grab his coffee mug. While sipping, he walks to the dining table and lifts his jacket off the chair.

I don’t know what to say to end this cold war.

All too soon, we’re done with our respective drinks and riding the elevator to the underground parking basement. I celebrate inwardly that he isn’t making us drive separately.

However, the atmosphere inside the car is tense as he strictly keeps his eyes on the road and doesn’t utter a word.

Unable to withstand it, I blurt out, “Are you back to treating me like a stranger?”

“I’m treating you like I would my brother’s soon-to-be wife,” he replies curtly.

It cuts deep. “Is that what this weekend was?”

“No. But it should’ve been. Whatever infatuation we’re feeling for each other, it’ll fade. It’s inappropriate and exists because you’re seeing me as a savior after I found you. Had Nathan been here, you’d be leaning on him.”

I want to yell at him how far off the mark he is. That it’s not going to fade. It’s just the beginning. “I should move out then.”

“Maybe you should.”

Swallowing the wrecking ball of sadness, I gaze out the window for the rest of the ride. Why does it feel like I am fighting a losing battle? I can’t even fault him for keeping me at arm’s length. He’s doing the right thing based on the facts he knows.

It’s me who’s playing with his heart.

The one thing I promised I wouldn’t do.

The extravagant building of Kinetic Securities comes into view. The gates part for Kian’s Jaguar to roll inside. As he cuts off the engine, I can’t get out fast enough.

---