VANESSA BELMONT
"I'm warning you, Carver," said Nate. "Quit entertaining fantasies about my wife."
"She's not your wife yet. A lot can happen in six months." Carver looked at me. "You sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine."
Nathan used the hand clamped to my neck to turn me toward him. Then he leaned down and captured my mouth. He kissed until my lips were swollen and my knees weak. When I let go, I stared at him, dazed. And I saw him smirk as he gave Carver a triumphant glance.
"Son-of-a-bitch," said Carver, his eyes flashing with rage.
Ollie grabbed Carver by the upper arm. "Okay, you two crazy kids, have fun. We're leaving. Text you tomorrow, Neenie!" He hauled away a very reluctant Carver.
My fiancé led me to the private elevator and used a key card to open it. We silently rode to the penthouse suite. When we got the foyer, Nate swooped me into his arms and strode purposefully toward the bedroom.
My stomach dipped. Oh, sweet hell. Nate entered the bedroom, and tossed me on to the king-sized bed. He stripped off his jacket and then his tie.
I scrambled off the bed, but Nate picked me up and threw me down again. He covered my body with his. He was so angry. Angry and lustful. He put his hand around my throat, and pressed me down onto the bed. Nipping my earlobe, he whispered, "The idea of someone else touching my woman makes me feel homicidal."
"Nate—"
He covered my mouth with his. Oh my God. Nathan Jang was kissing me. For the first time ever. I didn't know what to do.
Except kiss him back.
He tasted like champagne. Our lips met again and again, and hot liquid desire poured through me.
He removed his hand from my throat so he could kiss my neck. His lips paused on the still sore mark he'd made. He offered a soft press of his mouth as an apology, then he nibbled his way across my jaw. Just as his lips covered mine again, the bedside phone rang.
He lifted his head and stared at me, his mouth swollen and his gaze dark. Both of us were breathing hard, and I was trembling.
The second trill of the phone broke the spell between us. Nate rolled off me and picked up the receiver. "Yes? I see. Come up now." He got off the bed. "I'll be right back."
A sane woman might take this opportunity to leave, or at least hide in the bathroom until everyone calmed down. But my body refused to move. I had become one with the bed, melted and gooey. I was the human equivalent of a s'more.
Nate returned with a large blue velvet box.
"Is that my necklace?" I asked. "The sapphire one?"
"Don't worry. I paid for it, too. This is something else." He sat next to me and popped open the box. Inside was the ruby and diamond necklace. The one he and Fiona had picked out. "What do you think?"
My enthusiasm deflated like a punctured balloon. Everything we'd just shared—the heat of his touch, the possessive gleam in his eyes—meant diddly squat. Here I was, being naive again, mistaking Nate's lust for a crack in his stone heart. Stupid, Vanessa. When will you learn?
My chest ached as if an invisible hand had reached inside and squeezed. Hard.
"It's lovely," I said, forcing a smile. "I'm sure Fiona will adore it."
His jaw tightened. "I didn't spend a hundred million dollars for her."
He snapped the box shut and set it beside him on the bed before standing abruptly. In one swift motion, he yanked me to my feet, his fingers digging into my waist. The next thing I knew, he was unzipping my dress, the sound sharp in the quiet room. The fabric slithered down my body, pooling at my feet.
He sucked in a breath.
I had to admit, his reaction was gratifying.
When I'd replaced my wardrobe, I hadn't skimped on the lingerie. Tonight, I wore a dark red silk and black lace corset that cinched my waist, emphasizing every curve. The matching thong was barely there, and the black lace garter belt clung to my hips, its delicate straps securing sheer stockings that ran the length of my legs.
Nate's gaze darkened. "You were wearing this the whole night?" His voice was rough, edged with an electric tone that buzzed through my body. "I want to kill Carver Haynes twice as much now."
He took my hand, steadying me as I stepped out of my dress, then scooped up the jewelry box and led me to the bathroom. Positioning me in front of the mirror, he draped the necklace around my throat, his fingers brushing my skin as he fastened the clasp. The intricate pattern of diamonds and rubies shimmered against my skin, the centerpiece—a fat, blood-red ruby—nestled in the hollow of my collarbone.
It was stunning.
Nate tapped the ruby, his touch lingering. "It reminded me of cherries." His voice dropped lower. "And of you."
I swallowed. "You truly bought it for me?"
"Yes." His hand slid down, caressing the curve of my waist before settling on my hip. His fingers fanned over the exposed strip of skin between my corset and garter belt, sending a shiver through me. "A pretty woman deserves pretty things."
I rolled my eyes. "Lame." I met his gaze in the mirror. "Try again."
He smirked, then leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. "What about… you're gorgeous." His teeth nipped at my lobe. "And you're mine."
Oh, how I wanted to believe him. But reality was a cruel bitch.
Because you know who else belonged to him?
Fiona.
There was no way in hell she'd let him spend the night. Not after witnessing his public claim on me. She would find a way to interfere—a conveniently timed panic attack, a fabricated emergency—and Nate would drop everything to rush to her side. Because despite his current fascination with the new Vanessa, Fiona was his white moonlight. His untouchable ideal. The innocent damsel who needed her knight to rescue her.
And I?
I was a name on a marriage contract.