Addison eyed Emma. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you? Not that I blame you.”
She wasn’t ready to talk about how Nathan had swept her off to the bedroom every night for the last week or how the previous evening he’d plied her with a soothing massage that put her out for almost five hours. Damn the man.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, Nathan appeared in the doorway with a glass of wine he handed to Addison and a plate of cheese, bread and fresh fruit he placed on Emma’s worktable.
“See if you can’t persuade her to eat something,” he said. “All her wonderful curves are disappearing.”
Ever since she’d stopped making the trek to Addison’s house every night, he’d been badgering her to eat and rest. After the first couple days, she’d stopped telling him that she could take care of herself. Why waste her breath when he wasn’t listening to her anyway? And then three days ago, something awful had happened. She’d discovered that having him fuss over her was wonderful.
So much for Miss Independent.
“I’m not hungry,” Emma said, frowning at him.
Tonight he wore a black T-shirt that clung to his chest and shoulders. The color emphasized the bad-boy gleam in his eyes and made her pulse hitch. All she wanted to do was lay her head against his broad chest and close her eyes.
“He won’t stop fussing,” Emma complained to Addison after he left. She popped a grape in her mouth and followed it up with a slice of Brie on fresh French bread. “It’s not as if I need him to take care of me.”
“But isn’t it nice that he does?”
Addison’s sly question hit a little too close to the mark. No one would believe Emma could take care of herself unless she demonstrated that she could. “I was doing okay before he came along.”
Nathan returned with a glass of water for Emma. The ice cubes tinkled in the glass as he set it down. “Dinner will be ready in a half an hour. Can you stay?” he asked Addison.
Addison looked from one to the other. “I can’t. I promised Paul I would be home for dinner tonight.”
Emma watched him go, her gaze following his sexy posterior until it disappeared around the corner.
“For a woman who claims she’s not interested, you are emitting some smoking-hot vibes.” At least Addison waited until Nathan returned to the kitchen before her accusation burst forth. “I half expected to see scorch marks on his backside the way you were staring at him just now.”
“It’s awful.” Emma massaged her stiff shoulders. “I can’t stop myself. It’s like handing a two-year-old a cookie and telling her not to eat it. He’s impossible to resist.”
“And given the way he looks at you, I think you’d better dust off your platinum card and buy yourself a trousseau. That man’s got marriage on his mind.”
Emma nodded. Pity that it was for all the wrong reasons.
Nathan covered his yawn with a fist as he parked Emma’s borrowed van in the lot next to the Baton Rouge River Center. He blinked to bring moisture to his dry eyes. The clock on the dashboard told him it was a little before 9:00 p.m. Five hours earlier, he’d arrived home from a quick business trip to Chicago, anticipating a romantic reunion with the object of his desire and found her about to get behind the wheel of this dilapidated vehicle. Appalled by the idea that Emma intended to drive to Baton Rouge in something that had obviously seen more than its share of the open road, he’d overridden her objections and insisted on driving.
After the week he’d had, the last thing he’d wanted to do was more traveling. Not to mention that this was the worst possible moment for him to take time off. His brothers’ interest in Lucas Smythe’s company was taking on a life of its own. His location scouting near Chicago had not been as productive as he’d hoped. He really should be in the office tomorrow phoning Cody about other facility locations. What good would it do to win Emma and sign contracts with Silas if they had no production space?
Instead, he was in a van, almost three hundred miles away.
Nathan turned to the woman sleeping beside him. She’d napped almost the entire trip, confirming that he’d been absolutely right to insist on driving her to Baton Rouge. He’d never have forgiven himself if she’d fallen asleep at the wheel. And it wasn’t as if his brothers would notice if he was out of the office another day.
She looked so peaceful. During the drive he’d contemplated how much he’d enjoy having her in his life on a permanent basis. Although he hadn’t been blind to the perks of being married to Emma—the companionship, the incredible sex, the sense of purpose he’d felt these last ten days—he hadn’t expected that she’d arouse such protectiveness in him, or that he would so completely enjoy something as simple as watching her sleep.
He liked taking care of her and sensed that as much as she resisted, she liked having him do so. Soon, she would realize they had all the elements for a solid marriage.
Everything but love.
The thought emerged out of the conversation with his father. Hearing Brandon praise Marissa for her strength and voice his regrets that he’d settled too fast into a marriage of convenience, Nathan had noticed doubt creep into his opinions on love. His father’s words rang in his head, keeping him awake at night while Emma toiled down the hall, and forced him to notice a hole in his chest, a suspicion that something was missing.
Did he want Emma to love him the way his mother had loved Brandon? No, that couldn’t be right. His mother’s love hadn’t made her happy. He wanted Emma to need him, lust for him, like him even. Nothing more. No unrealistic expectations mucking up what promised to be a satisfying blend of friendship and sex.
Nathan turned off the van and rubbed the back of his neck as he considered the woman asleep beside him. She’d lowered the seat back and turned on her side toward him. With one foot braced against the floor, she’d bent the other and her skirt rode halfway up her smooth thigh. He imagined running his hand up her leg until he reached heaven. He sighed. She was too tempting to be believed.
One hand pillowed her cheek. She’d draped the other across her middle. He reached out to grab her shoulder and shake her awake, but the soft skin beneath the denim jacket distracted him. Before he knew what he intended, Nathan slid his hand under the fabric and cupped the side of her neck, his thumb brushing her cheek. Mesmerized by the warmth and soft fragrance of her skin, he leaned down and swept his lips against hers.
Trapping a groan in his throat, he dipped his head again and lingered long enough to taste her. She stirred, her hand lifting to coast inside the open V of his cotton shirt. Placing her palm against his chest, her lips parted.