AllFreeNovel
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I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. I've not seen my husband since the hotel room in Detroit when he left me. I fought going to the L.A. apartment or coming here, and even though we're in contact daily via text, it's not the same.
I've missed everything about him. The electricity a room has when he's in it, even if he believes he's all alone, always amazes me. And how his unruly hair can be disheveled while still sexy, is something most men can't pull off. But just being in his presence makes me feel alive, even if we're not sure where we stand with the other.
He spins, and his face lights up. It's not as much as it usually is when he sees me, but I still notice it. Yet there's also a sadness in his expression, and I don't miss that either.
He hesitates, which is unlike him, then walks over to me and tugs me into his arms. His spicy, woody scent with that hint of orange peels flares in my nostrils, turning the heat in my core hotter.
I don't think. My body naturally responds to his, and I wrap my arms around him, melting into him, not wanting to let him go. For the first time in a month, I feel safe again.
He kisses the top of my head and murmurs, "I missed you, pet."
I force myself to look at him, honestly replying, "I've missed you too. So much."
He opens his mouth and snaps it shut, inhaling deeply through his nose, never taking his eyes off me.
I fret, "What's wrong?"
Sadness expands on his face. He kisses my head again. Then retreats. My body instantly regrets the loss of his warmth and the safety he always provides. I've been craving it and didn't realize how much.
He orders, "Come sit down," and points to his desk.
Still unsure what forms he's referring to or what's about to unfold, I nervously obey.
He slides a folder across the desk and sits next to me. I question, "What is this?"
He assesses me, then announces, "It's the company shares your father signed over to me. Also, all the things I took out of his safe are in my office. It's the one at the beach house. Everything is yours."
My stomach flips, and I gape at him.What is he talking about?
He carefully watches me for a few minutes, then opens the folder. He asserts, "You need to sign for the shares."
I glance at the forms and jerk my head back toward him, declaring, "I don't want any of this."
In a neutral tone, he answers, "This belongs to you. Although I am taking over the ability to make the final call on any business deal. Your father held that power, and it's the one thing I need to run the company."
The hairs on my arms rise. My mouth turns dry, and I try to process what he's offering me, but it's all too much.
He picks up a pen, then takes my hand and positions my fingers over the barrel, gently declaring, "I need your signature, pet."
I put my hand over my stomach, blurting out, "I don't want the shares. I know nothing about this company and haven't done anything to earn it. This is your thing, not mine."
His jaw twitches. He calmly claims, "No, pet. I'm not asking you to run it. That's my job. But this is your inheritance. This isn't mine to keep."
"It is. It's all yours," I argue.
He sighs. "Of course it isn't."
"I don't want it," I seethe.
Confusion fills his expression. He lowers his voice. "Why are you mad at me over this?'
It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts. I finally admit, "When I left my father's house, I left everything behind. That included his money. And I don't want anything that he built."
"Well, I built most of it," Riggs mutters.
"I-I believe you, which is another reason I can't take this."
Riggs furrows his brows. "Don't be foolish, pet. There is over a billion dollars-worth of stock and millions per year in revenue."
