Page 32 of Engaging his Enemy
The door opened, and he watched as her expression changed from welcoming to wary in an instant. “Can I come in?” She stepped back for him to enter. Soft music played in the background and a book sat open facedown on the coffee table. The room smelled like apple pie. He slipped off his wet shoes.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Not well.”
He sat on the couch and told her what happened at the port, the injuries his friends sustained, Ben’s apparent disappearance and his subsequent text.
“I can’t believe Ben would do anything bad.”
“Why, because he’s been such a model of law-abiding goodness? Maybe DeRegina offered him a promotion for doing such a good job helping him launder his drug money.”
She reached out, resting her hand on his forearm, and he stared at it. What would his life be like if he’d stayed with her? If he’d never left her all those years ago, never felt the shadow where she’d once stood, never tried so hard to fill it up with women who didn’t matter?
He thought of his brother, wishing against hope Ben would come out on the other side of this mess on the right side of the law, but he knew in his heart it would never happen. “I need to stop Ben.”
“Why do you have to do it? Why not just leave him be?”
“He’s already hurt people. If I don’t stop him, he will hurt more.”
“You can’t control his behavior.”
“God, if one more person tells me I can’t control something, I’m going to put my fist through a wall.”
She pulled her hand back. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Yes.” She went to the sideboard and poured two glasses of bourbon. A heavy gust of wind could be heard battering the house, the only sound outside of the quiet music playing. “Where’s Wyatt?”
“At a friend’s house for the night. He’s had an eventful few days. I figured it would do him some good to get out for a while.” She handed him a glass.
“You’re probably right.”
“Zach, I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. If you want to see Wyatt, of course you can do that. I let what you said about us get me upset. I think where Wyatt’s concerned, we have to be careful not to do that, to separate you and me from you and Wyatt.”
The bourbon was good, the spicy liquid leaving a trail of heat all the way to his stomach, and he felt the muscles in his neck and back begin to relax. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
“Thank you.”
“Not the part about sleeping together, just everything else.”
She smiled. “I didn’t think you were sorry about that part.”
Her cheeks were lightly flushed, her eyes glistening with laughter and something he hoped he wasn’t imagining. She was a vision, more beautiful than he had ever seen her, her skin luminous and inviting his touch. Blood rushed to his cock as warmth from the bourbon spread throughout his chest. He drained his glass.
Would she look the same as he remembered, feel the same way in his arms? Or had she been with men between then and now who’d altered the way she loved a man? The thought incensed his territorial nature, even as he knew it should not, and he longed to claim her body with his own once more.
He’d taken her innocence and gotten her pregnant the first time they’d had sex. He longed to make love to her now, to feel what she was like as a grown woman, her body more mature and appealing than even her younger one had been. Her breasts were fuller, her cleavage more pronounced. The hips he’d once held on to were rounded now, welcoming and soft, and he wanted to grip them with his eager hands as he thrust himself into her body.
His gaze traveled down her curvy legs to her ankles and back up again, finding her eyes wide and locked with his at the end of his journey. Another gust of wind rattled the house, and the lights flickered precariously. “The power still go out with every passing storm?”
“Just about.” She stood and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
He stared after her, confused by her abrupt departure. “I’m not very hungry,” he called, standing to pour himself another bourbon.
“It’s better if I do it now. The stove and the microwave won’t work if we lose power.”
The idea of being alone with her in the dark while a storm raged outside did nothing for the growing problem in his pants, but first he had to get her out of the kitchen. He crossed to the doorway, finding her bent over and peering into the refrigerator. “I’m not hungry. Really.”
The lights went out, throwing the room into near darkness. Davina cursed and slammed the refrigerator.
