AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CLARA
Afew days after the night of the hurricane, I was in the dining room, just sitting down for breakfast—a soft-boiled egg and toast that Alex’s grandmother had prepared for me. Sunlight poured in from the tall windows, each flanked by thick, blue-velvet curtains. A large swath of light fell over the long, dark walnut dining table, set with placemats and dishes for two, which meant one of them was for…
Tatum.
Humph.
Tatum kissed me, rejected me, then a hurricane hit, and he thought he could have a change of heart and everything would be alright? I don’t think so, buddy. I wasn’t a gullible little girl. I was a boss lady, an up-and-coming sef, I was the so-called “man,” and I wasn’t about to get fucked over again.
I tapped on the delicate eggshell with the bottom of my spoon.
An uncomfortable thumping of my heart nagged at me. It was the look of sheer terror on his face when he’d walked through the door, drenched to the bone. He’d been legit scared for us women, for me specifically.
I gave myself a mental smack, desperately hoping it’d whack out the stupidity stubbornly clinging to me. I couldn’t afford to weaken around a man who’d already managed to make me feel so fragile.
His new attentiveness was disturbing, as was the moment he’d pulled me into his chest and hugged me tight the night of the hurricane. It felt so warm and delicious to be wrapped by his thick arms. The thumping of his heart against my ear had lulled me into the first moment of calm since the hurricane hit. My body had melted into his as I absorbed his heat and the feeling of safety and protection. Then, the way he got protective over me when he realized the windowpane had shattered on me. He was panicked, solicitous, and possessive at the same time. At that moment, I wanted him. And I wanted more with him.
I mentally smacked myself again. Viciously, I hissed to myself, Remember, Clara, he said our kiss was a mistake. Those were his words.
I revived the humiliating aftermath of that spectacular kiss to resurrect the walls the past two days of his intense attention had eroded. I had to admit, I’d been spooked by the hurricane. He’d caught me in an intensely susceptible moment in the aftermath, I reasoned, being away from the comfort of my family and home. After days of this, it was time we returned to hating each other the way we were supposed to. That’s all it was. Nothing more.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Who was I kidding?
Tatum’s constant care had been an unexpected solace I’d clung to over the past several days. Especially when I woke up at night screaming in my bed. Before I got a chance to gain full consciousness, the lights in my room flicked on, and Tatum was by my side, taking my hand in his.
He’d leave and return with a glass of water, which he made me sip before carefully placing it on the nightstand and tuck me back in bed. Once I was settled, he’d caress my hair until I fell asleep. Normally, I would’ve batted his hand away and tersely ordered him out, but I’d been vulnerable. I’d never felt that for anyone other than my father. Each morning, I woke up to my bedroom door open and the hall light on, verifying it hadn’t all been a dream.
Before I could finish my pep talk, Tatum sauntered in, looking ridiculously sexy in a simple long-sleeved shirt and joggers, his golden hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep. A pang of conscience hit me. How long had he been by my bedside last night, petting me until I fell asleep? I was sure it had been quick, but he didn’t look like he’d slept.
“Hey,” he greeted me casually, his voice rusty and unused. He may have been sleep-deprived, but as they always did now, his pitch-black eyes sharpened instantly, focused entirely on me. Before, he’d averted his gaze every chance he got. Now, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
A shiver coursed down my spine. Ignore, ignore, ignore. My fingers gripped harder around the spoon in my hand as I forced my pulse down to normal.
I nodded brusquely and returned my focus to my food.
He swung the door to the kitchen open, and I heard him greet Alex’s grandmother. She asked what he wanted to eat and he requested an omelet. They chatted for a few more minutes as I tried to inhale my food to get out of there before he returned.
Dammit, I didn’t finish in time, and I couldn’t leave a morsel of food on my plate for fear of insulting Alex’s grandmother.
“Hey gorgeous,” he said as he returned. “How was the rest of your sleep?”
I froze at his endearment, spoon suspended halfway to my mouth.
He sat beside me and leaned in close. I got a whiff of his natural oaky scent and inhaled it greedily. Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that. It left me slightly light-headed and a lot turned on, a combination that served to irritate me more. I couldn’t risk my crown for this guy. As traditional as the Lupu were, I couldn’t even consider simply fucking the living daylights out of him and then cutting it off because we’d end up married. A shiver coursed down my spine. I blinked. That wasn’t a shiver of fear. It was a shiver of arousal. Did the thought of marrying him turn me on? Oh, hell no.
Thrown off my game, I continued staring down at my plate, choking my spoon with my grip. At least I remembered to bring the spoon up to my lips. Opening my mouth, I stuffed it full and chewed to avoid having to reply to him.
After swallowing, I glanced over to find him waiting for my reply.
“I’m not your gorgeous anything,” I snipped as a response.
“Hey.” His tone pitched low and hard.
The inner muscles of my pussy clenched. Fuck. Whenever he used that domineering tone, it only agitated me more.
I ignored him.
“Clara,” he demanded, his voice commanding my attention.
