by Katee Robert
In fact, that was part of his plan.
Nathan took a step closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll get her settled in.”
She held herself straight and stiff against him, but her uneasy smile never wavered. “I’m sure there will be time to talk over the course of the weekend.”
Elle’s gaze jumped between them. “Of course. I’ll catch up with you later.”
As soon as Elle was out of sight, Chelsea pushed him away, her amber eyes sparking with anger. “What are you doing? Why would you tell her that?”
Okay, so he hadn’t exactly planned on blurting it out to Elle, but Chelsea had always done a number on his self-control. Only, this time, he wasn’t letting her get away without a fight. “It’s the truth. You, Chelsea Callaghan, are my wife.”
“Stop it,” she hissed, looking around as if her family was going to appear out of the woodwork. “Please stop saying it.”
“It’s too late to deny it. Hell, it’s even too late to leave. What Elle knows, Gabe knows, and don’t think for a second he won’t track you down to ask questions.” Her hand flew to her chest, her eyes narrowing.
“He wouldn’t dare.”
“You know my brother. Take a second to think about that.” It wasn’t the truth. Gabe and Nathan were adults, and they respected each other’s boundaries—mostly. If Nathan told his big brother to back off, Gabe would do it. Chelsea didn’t know that, but it suited his plans for the weekend to let her believe nothing had changed in the last eight years.
She frowned. “I’ve moved on. He’d never find me. You didn’t.”
Now probably wasn’t the best time to remind her that he had, in fact, mailed her an invitation to the wedding, nor to admit he’d found her less than four weeks after he got back from basic training. There was a decent amount of pride involved in the decision to stay away. He may have fucked up, but she left him.
He forced himself to shrug, to hide the tension radiating through every line of his body. This bluff had to pay off or she’d leave and it all would be for nothing. “Where do you think he’d start looking?”
Recognition sparked. “No.” She stepped forward and clutched his arm. “He can’t go to my parents. Please, Nathan. You have to stop him.”
The trap was set. All he needed to do was spring it. “I will.” Nathan laid his hand over hers. “If you stay for the wedding.”
“What?” Chelsea’s jaw dropped and she stepped back, releasing his arm as if he’d caught fire. “You’re… blackmailing me?”
“If you want to put it that way.” He’d do a lot worse if it meant a chance to get his wife back. It seemed like everyone around him was falling in love and getting their happily-ever-after, all while he sat around and pined for Chelsea. He wanted her back in his life, and he was going to do his damnedest to create the opportunity.
“I do want to put it that way.” She took another step back. “I can’t believe you’d do this.”
“Don’t play the victim, Chelsea. It doesn’t look good on you.” The sheer audacity she had to look hurt after everything that had happened set Nathan’s teeth on edge. He might not be an innocent, but she wasn’t, either.
“You’re crazy. We haven’t seen each other in eight years and you want me to spend the weekend with you? That doesn’t make any kind of sense.”
He stepped forward, backing her against the wall, though he didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to. Being this close after so long was heaven and hell all mixed into one. He wanted to kiss her until they both forgot all their anger and hurt and the bullshit keeping them apart.
Not yet.
Nathan leaned down, noting the way she shook even as her eyes dropped to his lips. His mouth brushed her jaw, the touch so brief it might have been his imagination if not for the way her breath caught.
“A weekend isn’t all that long.” He dropped one hand to her hip, the thin cotton of her dress not much of a barrier between their skin. One good rip and it wouldn’t even be that. “And we have a lot to catch up on.”
She inhaled so sharply, her breasts pressed against his chest. A little noise escaped her lips, one that didn’t sound the least bit like a protest. She snapped her mouth shut, but it was too late. He knew she was as affected as he was.
Good.
He released her and took a large step back.“I took the liberty of canceling your reservation. My room is two twenty-four. I expect to see you there.”
He turned and walked away before his tenuous grip on his control broke and he dragged her into the nearest empty room to see just how badly she really wanted him to kiss her.
2
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
What in the hell had just happened? It was like Chelsea had stumbled onto a runaway train, and now it was all she could do to hang on for dear life.
She slumped against the side of her car, the bright, sunny day mocking her with its cheerfulness. Beautiful as it was, Chelsea wanted to put this place into her rearview mirror and pretend she hadn’t just been seriously contemplating kissing—doing significantly more than kissing—Nathan. When his lips had brushed her skin, an honest-to-God moan had come out of her mouth. Even now, it felt as if her body had been connected to a live wire. Key areas pulsed with each beat of her heart, centering at her breasts and the vee between her legs. She clenched her thighs together and mentally cursed herself because it made things so much worse.
There wasn’t a word in existence to describe how bad this was.
Clearly she’d expected Nathan to roll over and play dead when she showed up and handed him divorce papers. And why not? The fresh-faced boy he’d been in high school never would have dreamed of blackmailing her. Never would have backed her against a wall and made threats that set her body on fire.
But then, she’d never dreamed that boy would desert her the way he had eight years ago. After high school, with him by her side, she’d finally scrounged up the courage to stand up to her family, to run from them when they tried to come between her and Nathan. She’d thought things would get better, and they had for a little while.
At least until his mother passed away.
Suddenly she’d been caught in the middle of a tailspin she had no idea how to get out of, Nathan’s grief dragging them both down. When he’d come to her and told her he wanted to get married right away, she’d jumped at the opportunity to bring him back to the world of the living.
Instead, he enlisted in the Army without even telling her. She’d pleaded—begged him not to go. It had been the most humiliating experience of her life, and she’d have been glad of it if only he’d stayed.
He hadn’t.
Pain spiked through her, and even after so many years of living with it, she could barely bear it. She was more than free to climb into her car, start it up, and drive away, of course. And she was on the verge of doing just that until she thought about Gabe knocking on her parents’ door, demanding to know why he hadn’t been informed that his little brother was married to their daughter.
Considering she’d managed to keep the marriage a secret, even after she was forced to go crawling back to her family, they wouldn’t have any answers for him. No, all they’d have would be questions for Chelsea. Nathan could be bluffing, but she’d known Gabe when she was in high school, and back then he’d have been willing to burn the world to the ground for his little brother.
She couldn’t risk him doing the same in this situation. Not with her father running for a Senate seat.
Damn it.
Everyone in the family was under a microscope with the campaign going full steam ahead, and a scandal was the last thing they needed. Especially a scandal like this. With Dad heading a conservative platform, if anyone found out she’d been secretly married for the last eight years, they would draw all the wrong conclusions. Under the very best case scenario, they’d assume he couldn’t control his own family, which would lead to arguments that obviously he’d be unable to handle the responsibilities that wen
t along with being a member of the Senate. Worst case, they’d think he lied about it.
Either option could ruin her father’s chance at being elected.
Which brought her back to why she was here in the first place. She needed a divorce, and she needed it immediately. If she could take care of this on her own, maybe she’d manage enough damage control not to disappoint her family. Again.
Chelsea’s entire body shook as she pushed herself off her car, her frustration growing. How dare Nathan reappear like this and blackmail her? Not only was this entire mess his fault, she was Chelsea Callaghan, daughter of future senator John Callaghan, granddaughter of socialite Rose Callaghan—she wasn’t the kind of woman a man could blackmail. Not if she had any say in the matter.
Which, apparently, she didn’t.
The realization only fueled her anger. There was no way she was going to accomplish her goal if Nathan was hell-bent on seducing his way back into her heart. She had to make him see reason. Show him just how incompatible they’d become.
And that meant staying the weekend.
Unable to stomach another round of her best friend’s questionable advice, she sent Danielle a quick text.
Plans changed. I desperately need a bag packed for the weekend. Can you tear yourself away long enough for a scenic drive down here?
She shoved her phone back into her purse. God help her, she would make Nathan pay for forcing her into this. He wanted a wife? Chelsea would give him a wife, and she’d make him choke on it. Heat shot through her at the thought of exactly what that would entail, but she fought it down. She could play the blackmail game, too. By the time she was done with him, he’d be begging her for a divorce.
She hauled her overnight bag out of the trunk, a grim smile pulling at the edges of her lips. Anger was good. Anger would ensure she didn’t do something foolish like lose her head over Nathan again. Just because he looked at her with those soulful brown eyes didn’t mean she was affected.The warmth surging through her was the remnant of frustration and anger, not a nearly overwhelming tide of desire.
She waited for the elevator doors to open, praying it didn’t contain anyone. Chelsea might be able to smile her way through political brunches and any number of social functions, but she was too flustered to deal with any of that right now.
Not to mention she had the horrible feeling she was going to need all her wits about her if she had any shot at beating Nathan at his own game.
Thankfully, the elevator was empty. She stepped inside, pushed the button for the second floor, and fidgeted with her bag while she waited. As the elevator doors opened, her body turned to lead. She stumbled forward, following the signs until she came to a stop outside the room marked 224, and stared at the dark wood door.
Was she really going to do this? Grandiose plans of revenge aside, nothing good could come of spending a weekend with Nathan. She might have been the one to leave, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care. In fact, it meant she’d cared too much.
No. They’d kept up this charade for far too long already. It was best to do whatever it took to get the papers signed and put that chapter of her life behind her—which was something she needed and needed now.
She raised her hand to knock, but the door opened and Nathan leaned against the frame. If she didn’t know any better, she would have suspected he’d chosen this position solely because he knew how fantastic he looked framed by the shadows in the room behind him. It brought everything into stark relief—the width of his shoulders; how well his shirt fit, accenting his chest and arms without clinging; the casual messiness of his hair, as if he’d just been running his hands through it.
He looked good enough to eat.
He smiled, the look just this side of gloating.“Were you planning on standing out here all evening?”
“And miss out on the dubious pleasure of your company? Of course not.”
Good Lord, where had that response come from? She slid past Nathan, careful not to touch him. With the memory of what happened in the lobby riding so close to the surface, she didn’t trust herself to get within touching distance. She dropped her bag on the bed and turned to him with a smile she hoped looked more confident than terrified. “I have a counterproposal.”
“I’m all ears.” He didn’t look the least bit worried, arrogance practically seeping from him. Nathan thought he had her cornered and at his mercy.
She was about to prove him wrong. She slid the divorce papers from her purse and held them out to him. “I will stay for the weekend, but you’ll sign these at the end of it.”
The anger in his eyes was both terrible and beautiful. He was suddenly closer, though she couldn’t say for certain when he’d moved. “Divorce papers.”
The documents in her hand—along with her bravado—drooped, and she had to swallow past her suddenly dry throat. “Those are my terms. Will you accept?”
He twined his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer even though her mind screamed at her to step back. Instead she stared, helpless, at the contrast between her dark red strands and his tanned skin. She remembered what it felt like to have those hands on her body, pulling her closer with a desperation matched only by her need to be as intertwined with him as much as she could. “Chelsea…”
Would he kiss her now? She desperately wanted him to. Oh God, this wasn’t going according to plan. Nothing about today was going according to plan. Maybe she should have just turned off her alarm clock, gone back to bed, and slept the day away.
Of course, thoughts of bed turned to thoughts of her in bed with Nathan. How it would feel to be covered by his body again, to have his mouth dragging over her skin, his hands holding her in place?
He moved closer, kissably close.Against her better judgment, she closed her eyes and lifted her face. His teeth grazed her neck, sending her blood sizzling. The divorce papers fluttered to the floor as she fisted her hands in the front of his shirt, as much holding herself as keeping him from moving away.
The power he’d held over her—and apparently still held—threatened to drown her in want. She needed him on a level that had nothing to do with reason or reality.
One of his hands framed her jaw, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. Nathan’s rumbling chuckle made her entire body perk up. “If you actually want a divorce by the end of the weekend, I’ll sign the damn papers.” He shifted back, the scruff on his jaw trailing along her cheek. “But I doubt you will.”
His words jarred her out of the lust overriding her common sense, leaving her cold and standing in a pile of loose papers in the wake. All because he’d touched her.
Chelsea took a deep breath, but it was a mistake because all she could smell was his distinctive scent. She wasn’t going to be able to stand up for herself if she was swooning in his arms. With effort, she smiled. “You can doubt all you want. It’s going to happen.”
It took entirely more effort than it should have to step back—and not trample the divorce papers in the process—which made her wonder if she was already in trouble. Oh, who was she kidding? She’d been in trouble the moment she’d walked into this hotel.
Nathan’s grin was downright wolfish. “Oh, I don’t know about that. You’ve been here less than an hour and you’re already practically begging me to kiss you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and it was everything she could do not to lick her lips. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to beg. I’m more than willing to kiss every single fucking inch of you.”
Having been on the receiving end of his patience when it came to the bedroom, she didn’t doubt it. Her traitor of a memory was all too willing to offer up all the times they’d snuck away to explore each other’s bodies in the bed of his truck, with only the stars as witnesses.
She shook her head. It didn’t matter how things used to be. They were different now. She had her life. Nathan has his. And ne’er the two should meet.
His grin faded away, replaced by a terrifyingly sincere look. “I’m going to make things right between us.
I promise.”
I promise. Words she’d heard before, and exactly the ones she needed to hear now. She gathered her tattered composure around her like a shield.“Promises don’t mean anything. You, of everyone, should know that.”
“Chelsea—”
“Stop.” How arrogant did he have to be to believe he could wave a magic wand over their past and she would immediately fall into line? “You broke my trust, Nathan. Shattered it. There’s no coming back from that.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Give this a chance. Please.”
“No.” She turned away, making a show of examining the room and pretending like she couldn’t still feel him at her back, taking up too much space. Well, he could just keep standing there, because she had no intention of going along with whatever mad scheme he’d apparently dreamed up. “What kind of options are available for dinner? I haven’t eaten since this morning.” Because she’d been so nervous about seeing him she hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of food.
“Let’s go for a drive.”
And be closeted into a car with him for God only knew how long? Absolutely not. She turned around to tell him exactly that, but he was already at the door, holding it open for her as if he were a gentleman.
A gentleman wouldn’t have put her in this position to begin with.
She smoothed down her dress and kept her chin high as she sidled past him and into the hallway. Her relief was short-lived. The door clicked shut behind him and then he was leading her down to the elevator. There didn’t feel like enough space in the enclosed box but, thankfully, Nathan didn’t press her or talk to her or so much as look at her during the short ride to the first floor.
She clutched her purse, telling herself she could handle this—even though now she wasn’t so sure. She’d faced down plenty of intimidating people over the years, but none of them came close to unsettling her as much as he did. Worse, she was reacting to him, her body responding to the presence of the only man she’d ever been intimate with. But who could blame her? He was gorgeous and magnetic and…
