Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
He frowned at her. "Go then, if you're in such a damn hurry."
"I'm not in a hurry--"
"You're not a normal woman. You're not domesticated at all. You're supposed to be fussing over me," he lashed out.
"I'm sorry, did you not like the grilled cheese sandwiches?" she asked as her voice rose at the end.
"They were okay."
"You certainly ate them all."
"I'm burning up. Can you bring me a damp washcloth for my head?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and paused just long enough to let him know she wasn't buying his 'poor me' act. Turning toward his bathroom, she retrieved a wet cloth and came back only moments later.
She lifted it toward him. "Here," she said, when he made no move to take it.
"Goddamnit, Natalie. I'm sick. Can you just act as if you give a shit for a minute?"
She rolled her eyes heavenward and carefully sat on the edge of his mattress, at an angle facing him, her feet dangling from the bed and only one foot finding purchase on the floor. She carefully folded the cloth into a rectangle and with a show of reluctance, put it to his brow.
He sighed in what sounded like ecstasy and his arm came around her legs to land on the side of her hip, holding her in place. A wave of reaction hit her, and she briefly considered what it would be like if he were hers, and hers alone. Would he lose the gruffness? Would he lose the attitude and the chip on his shoulder?
She watched his eyes slip closed on a sigh and eventually hers did the same, as she moved the cloth over his forehead in small gentle circles, trying to soothe not only him but herself as well.
They sat like that for several minutes, with him seemingly content against the pillows, obviously enjoying her ministrations.
The buzzer screamed loudly from the other room, interrupting the quiet moment. His eyes flew open and she jumped off the bed, taking the damp cloth with her, and went to the living room.
She pressed the button. "Yes?"
"Miss Wallace would like to come up, Miss. May I send her up?"
Natalie bit her lip in vexation. Dealing with Tanya right now wasn't something she was eager to do. Did the other woman know Marco was home? "Yes, that's fine."
The elevators opened and Tanya walked into the penthouse with a flourish. "Where is my poor baby?"
Well, that answered Natalie's question. "He's in his bedroom."
The other woman began walking down the hall that led to the bedrooms. "Which one?"
Didn't she know? That came as a shock to Natalie. After all, she was here, all the time. "Second door on the left," she answered.
Tanya pushed her way into Marco's room and Natalie hung back at the bedroom door to see if she could make her escape. She didn't really want to observe the other woman hovering over Marco.
When Marco opened his eyes, Natalie had a clear view of the emotion that glimmered from his eyes before he hooded them, shutting all expression out. His gaze landed on the other woman first, irritation, pure and simple glistening from his brown eyes before they skated past her and focused on Natalie.
Natalie lost her breath with a whoosh at what she saw there--only briefly, before he closed down his expression. With a feeling of dismay, she realized at once that he wasn't happy to see Tanya.
He wanted her with him--Natalie, not Tanya. And the look he'd given Tanya almost made her feel sorry for the other woman; in fact, it did make her feel sorry for her.
"Marco, poor baby."
Natalie put her back against the door and watched Tanya plop her ass on the mattress beside Marco. She hadn't noticed the first time she'd met her that her ass was a tad big. It was big, wasn't it?
"I'm here to take care of you now. It's so lucky I tried you at your office! Joy told me you're sick!"
Marco crossed his arms over his chest. "I need rest, Tanya, not company."
"I'm not company, silly." She ran her blood red nails through his hair and Natalie felt as if she were getting ill herself.
She held the oxygen in her lungs as she walked over to the bed on stiff legs and handed the cloth to Tanya. "He likes the cool compress on his forehead." Was that evil of her, considering the look she'd spied on his face earlier?
Tanya took the cloth and laid it against Marco's forehead. "Like this?"
"Yes," Natalie whispered softly, a slightly ugly emotion clouding her throat as she watched Tanya touching Marco. Natalie looked from Marco's hair, where Tanya's fingers were running through it, and dropped to his eyes. The sudden, unexpected impact of seeing him watching her in return almost knocked the breath from her.
His eyes were focused on her exclusively, expressive and possessive, as if he were only biding him time, and her heart began beating wildly. She began turning away, but Marco's hand reached out and wrapped around her wrist, detaining her. She stalled in her tracks and turned around to face him again, aware that Tanya watched with a dangerous glint in her eye.