The Note by Natalie Wrye (urban books to read .TXT) 📗

there’s a restraint inside his body, a tightly held control on a leash.

His hands still don’t touch me, even as mine dig into his shoulders, and within seconds, Noah is pulling back, shutting his eyes tightly as if needing not to look at me.

As if the very act will turn him into stone.

He falters back a few feet, one hand flying to his brow. He wipes the furrows settling there, setting them straight, and I watch him inhale for a few seconds, his brick-like chest falling and rising hard. Heaving with the exertion of a man who’s run a marathon, he takes several steading breaths before opening his eyes.

When he does, they’re full of liquid blue fire. Hot enough too scorch.

His gaze carves an inferno across my skin.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he rasps, his voice grating, full of gravel. “I shouldn’t have touched you. It’s not what we’re here for.”

I want to ask him exactly what are we here for, if not to act like we care about each other.

But before I can say another, Noah turns without speaking and is gone.

Chapter 20

NOAH

We’re avoiding each other again.

Only this time, I haven’t started it.

Sophia’s been dancing around me since she came back from eating breakfast, samba’ing just out of my reach.

Dressed in a floor-length, floral winter dress and sweater, I have to fight to keep my eyes off her.

A new worry has settled on her smooth forehead, and curiosity draws my stare to her small form.

She walks around as if deflated, all the former life sucked out of her curvy figure. And just as day two of the weekend wraps up, I find my gaze wandering to her, though, as the estate buses with life.

Her eyes are focused on nothing, seemingly dazed.

And as an afternoon of pre-nuptial games and incoming guests and presents stretch on, I flash a peek over at her again when she finally emerges from whatever stretch of the estate she’s been sequestered on. My throat goes dry at the thought that I may have put the sucker-punched look on her face after our dalliance in the bathroom this morning.

Guilt swirls in my gut, and just as I help Lachlan stow some more wedding presents away—to talk to her, to say something, maybe even to apologize, Nadia, one of our New York receptionists, steps in the doorway to the dining hall.

I stop.

“Hi Noah.” She smiles openly at me. “Hectic day, huh?”

My eyebrows quirk. “Guess I wasn’t the only swamped, huh?”

“Not at all.” The buxom brunette takes an uninvited step inside, and my stomach tightens. “The pace of people arriving picked up sometime around lunch and didn’t let up.”

I glance over my shoulder out the huge windows. “Sounds like that rain didn’t either.”

She nods, the red dress on her frame undulating. Or maybe it’s me?

She seems to be swaying. And did she get closer or am I imagining things?

She crosses arms underneath her full bosom, pressing them near to the ceiling. And my gaze flicks from the rain showers that have just picked up outside to her face and the smile that’s spreading on it.

She takes a step closer.

“Right?” She agrees with my rain comment. “It’s the kind of evening that makes you want to curl up with a glass of wine, doesn’t it?”

I adjust the strap on my shoulder. “Mm.”

“Which reminds me…” Okay, she’s definitely getting closer. She takes another high-heeled step towards me, and my body stiffens as the front desk receptionist licks her bright red lips. “I was wondering…if you’re not too busy, of course, if you’d like to have some tonight.” Her smile widens. “Wine, I mean. I know you guys have a great wine cellar on the property, and I have a feeling you would love the…taste.”

She wraps her tongue around the last word, practically licking it. And my eyes stray towards the open door outside the lengthy dining hall finding Sophia now standing.

Watching us.

Her eyes bounce from the back of Nadia’s head to me, and the guilt I’d felt earlier solidifies like a weight in my solar plexus.

Her golden-green gaze lands on me, never straying. I expect the anger I once found when I picked up her from The Alchemist but instead there’s only hurt. Only pain.

I return my gaze from Nadia to Sophia, setting the box in my hands to the table, wiping them quickly as Sophia turns on her heel, heading out of the dining room fast.

My eyes can’t help but follow.

“Thanks for the offer, Nadia. Really.” Her eyes start to brighten. “But I can’t. I’ve got, uh…something I need to do first.”

The pretty receptionist’s face falls.

I leave her there in the long room, her face just as long, discovering Sophia on the stairs, her dress swaying high as she hightails it to the second floor.

I climb the stairs two at a time, moving fast.

SOPHIA

Packing a bag isn’t hard…when you don’t have much to pack.

As many items decorate the inside of Noah’s and my assigned bedroom, very few of them are mine and I pile my remaining clothes, my threadbare dresses, shirts and winter wear into my weekend bag.

The room is more grandiose than any item in my wardrobe, the carpet softer and I stomp over the damn thing as I head for the bathroom.

Swiping my toothbrush from inside, I head back into the adjoining bedroom, head down only to find a surprised Noah in the doorway, his blue eyes wide as he shuts the door behind him, his movements steady.

I drop the brush into my bag. “What are you doing here, Noah? Why are you following me? Is this another test? Another round of revenge I somehow haven’t recognized? Humiliate me by making me come here to eat brunch amongst people who could buy me twice over? Embarrass me at the gallery in front of my boss, in front of my friends? Made me do your bidding? What else?”

I plant my hands on my hips, staring at the surreal-looking man in front of me.

I