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I ought to tell him to fuck off, but maybe that’s what he wants. Maybe he wants me to lose my cool in front of Mason and regret it afterwards.
It’s time to prove my strength.
I lower my head and smile up at him from under my lashes. “Sure, honey.”
His dark eyes flash, but I don’t let it deter me. I lift up onto my toes and press a soft kiss on his mouth. His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t move. Before pulling away, I nibble on his bottom lip.
When I finally have the courage to look at him, his eyes are burning.
My smile grows as I turn and walk away with a sway in my step.
You want me to pay, Mark Walker? I’ll make sure I’m not the only one.
CHAPTER2
Present Day
Mark
It would be heavento kiss her.
She glances at the window as she delicately presses a napkin against her lips. Her face is bathed in afternoon sunlight, making her golden-brown eyes sparkle.
Why didn’t I kiss her every day when I had the chance? Why did I only do it in those rare moments when I wanted to show her I owned her?
As if sensing my gaze on her, she looks at me suddenly. I don’t even make an effort to hide my longing, which I know must be all over my face, because her eyes grow remote.
She’s resurrecting the wall between us.
I deserve it. The only reason we’re even having lunch together right now is because I blackmailed her.
“This is delicious,” she says, glancing down at her broccoli cheddar soup. “You’ve become an excellent chef since you moved out.”
I smile slyly. “I had a lot of motivation.”
When she flutters her eyelids, I chuckle.
It was a cheap trick locking her into spending time with me for six months after I moved out of the house, but I was desperate.
I knew Whitney wanted our Tahoe cabin. She’s extremely sentimental when it comes to the kids, and we’ve spent almost every Christmas there since Cole was born.
Thankfully, it’s exclusively mine in the eyes of the law since it’s been in the Walker family for generations. Whitney can’t take it unless I give it to her.
Which I have, under one condition…
Six months of weekly lunches with me and one Christmas Ball at the end of it, at which time I’m planning to ask her out on a real date.
Just one date. Not an end to our separation. Not even a relationship. Just one date.
A modest request considering in my darkest moments, I’ve thought about kidnapping her, taking her away to a remote cabin and showering her with affection until she understands that my twisted obsession with her will never lead to cruelty again. I’ve learned my lesson.
Her mouth tightens. “I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”
I grin. “How am I looking at you?”
She narrows her eyes playfully. “Like you’re scheming.”
I lean forward, setting my elbows on the table. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking about kidnapping you.”
