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“Let’s get together again another time,” Cheryl said.
They said their goodbyes.
The staff brought their coats, and the valet attendant pulled up with the car. Lucas returned to his silence and didn’t break it even as they turned onto the street where their temporary home sat at the end of the cul-de-sac.
They left the car and entered the house. He tossed the key fob on the kitchen counter and shrugged out of his sport coat as he headed upstairs.
By the time she made it down the hallway, the bedroom was empty, so she changed into one of his T-shirts and went to the bathroom to prepare for bed.
In the middle of brushing her teeth, his face appeared in the mirror behind her. He’d changed into a T-shirt and a pair of soft, drawstring shorts, and he leaned against the door frame, arms folded across his chest.
She spit toothpaste into the sink and turned on the faucet. “By the way, I’m going to North Carolina next month,” she said. “I’ll be gone about a week, tops.”
Finally, he broke his silence. “What kind of a photo shoot is it?”
“Not modeling.” She rinsed her mouth and set the toothbrush back on its battery stand. “Research.”
“Good. I won’t pretend that I enjoy others looking at your half-naked body.”
“It’s just work.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“You’re my husband. I don’t think you’re supposed to.”
“Sounds like you’re getting comfortable with that word.”
“It’s growing on me,” she admitted. “Let’s see how we do in the next couple of days. This is only night one. Vampires have retractable fangs, right?”
“If I was a vampire, I would have climbed onto your balcony at the conference hotel, through your window, and bit you back then. With how much of a headache you caused me later that night, I’m pretty sure after one bite, I’d learn you were my fated mate.”
“What kind of headache?” She faced him. “Did I mess up your date with your ex?”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Did Emmaline know that? It was dinner with Emmaline, right? The brilliant surgeon?”
“Yes.”
The fact that he didn’t hesitate only poured more green paint onto her head.
So, his ex was brilliant.
For anyone to take her seriously, she always had to mention the research and the business ventures. Because companies paid her to look good wearing or using their products, most people assumed she had helium where a brain was supposed to be. Some days, herself included.
“Was that the ‘last time’ you slept with someone?” she asked. “That night in Greece?”
“I haven’t slept with anyone since I laid eyes on you, Raina. As I said,” he tapped his head, then his heart, “fated mate.”
“Emmaline’s the woman who came to your building the first night I spent at your condo, right? The one from the parking garage?”
His expression changed, and she searched for remnants of longing for his brilliant, accomplished ex-girlfriend.
“You weren’t sleeping,” he said.
“No.”
“Yes. That was her.”
