Sure he was.
“I have to say, this place isn’t what I thought. I’d expected it to have more of a woman’s touch,” Frederick said, glancing around.
Scarlett laughed. “Give me a chance, Frederick. You must know that it was Ryder’s place before we got married,” she said, chopping the tarragon. “But I’ve had a few ideas of what I might like to do with the place.”
Was she saying that just to placate Frederick, or did she really want to redecorate? Not that I minded.
I’d let my designer pick almost everything for this apartment. If Scarlett wanted to make changes, I’d be happy with that. “What kind of ideas?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Oh, just some things in the bedrooms,” she said, sliding the onion from her chopping board into the frying pan. “I was thinking of switching things up a little.”
Fuck, I hoped that included her sleeping in my room. I’d missed her warmth next to me this morning when I woke. It’d felt like a piece of me had been missing all day. As I passed behind her, I placed the pepper mill on the counter and took the opportunity to press my body against her and kiss her shoulder.
“You really can’t keep your hands off her, can you? I get that you’re newlyweds, you know. You don’t have anything to prove to me,” Frederick said, grinning.
I flexed my hands and resisted the urge to punch him. “I can’t help myself.” I wrapped my arms around Scarlett’s waist as she continued to chop. Not because Frederick was here, but because I wanted to.
Because I could.
Because I’d missed her.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ever missed anyone. Maybe my sister while I was away at school. But no one as an adult. What was my wife doing to me?
Twenty-Three
Scarlett
“Give us a call if you decide to extend your trip,” I called out to Frederick behind the elevator doors as they glided shut. I hadn’t missed an opportunity to top up Frederick’s wine all night. He left fed, a little drunk and hopefully convinced that Ryder and I were the real deal.
“I really hope he doesn’t,” Ryder mumbled as the elevator began to whir and I turned to go back into the living area.
“You think that was a test?” I asked.
“Of course it was a test. The man’s been to New York once in his life and he’s suddenly here on business.” He emphasized the word like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. But it didn’t seem so impossible. Surely, Frederick could have just hired a private investigator.
The door clunked behind us. As soon as I walked into the living room and felt Ryder’s eyes on me, all my resolve to keep my emotions detached from him began to wobble. Being alone together, it was so easy to slip into married life or into that pretend world where I wasn’t pretending.
How had I let things get this far? Why had I allowed myself to want something more from this man? I knew better. I’d missed him last night and I had no right to. And that was the reason I needed to leave.
“I should go,” I said, heading toward my bedroom.
“Go?” he asked, his voice following me down the hallway. “Where?”
“I told you I was going to stay at my apartment tonight.”
He took hold of my wrist and pulled me back from the entrance to the bedroom. “Scarlett,” he said, his brow furrowed.
I glanced down at my feet. The way he looked at me was as if he really wanted me to stay—not because of our arrangement or because Frederick had just left. It was so easy to think that this was real.
“I feel like I’ve done something wrong, but I don’t know what. Please tell me. Let me make it better.”
I took a deep breath. It wasn’t anything he’d done. Ryder had been nothing but nice to me. Too nice. “No. It’s not that.”
I tried to free my wrist but he tightened his grip. “Then what?” he asked. “I missed you.”
I shook my head. It was him saying things like that which made it so easy for me to trick myself into thinking this was something that it wasn’t.
“Scarlett? Did something happen at work? Or with your ex?”
I glanced up to find Ryder scanning my face as if he was looking for clues. “No, it’s nothing like that,” I replied. “I’m just tired.”
“Too tired to talk?”
“Talk?” Presumably it was a euphemism for sex. “Yeah, I’ve had such a busy day.”
“So don’t go to your apartment,” he said. “I don’t want to spend two nights without you in my bed.” And there it was again, that pulse in my stomach at his words, dissolving the walls around my heart. Exactly the sensation I shouldn’t be feeling. Because I shouldn’t be feeling anything. But his closeness chased away the fight in me, and Ryder must have sensed it. He released my wrist only to pull me into his arms. “Don’t leave me tonight,” he whispered.
“But I have to,” I said. I needed to rebuild my walls and I couldn’t do that pressed against Ryder’s body.
“Don’t. Sleeping on your own isn’t allowed. The guest room is not for you to sleep in. And neither is your apartment. You belong in my room. Our room.”
Was he just telling me what I wanted to hear? His expression was concerned and genuine. The problem was that I wanted to believe him so badly.
“Scarlett,” he whispered for no reason in particular.
I reached up and trailed my finger along his jaw. He felt like mine, but I knew he wasn’t. It was just so easy to pretend.
He pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. “Where have you been all day?”
I was sinking deeper and deeper into him, into a life with him. And as much as I knew it was the last thing I should be doing, I couldn’t stop.
I turned my head in answer so my lips aligned with his. I glanced up from under my eyelashes.
“I want to make this right,” he said in a half whisper before kissing me properly, prying my mouth open and sliding his tongue against mine. He stepped forward, pressing me against the wall. He ground his hips against me, his erection thrusting against my stomach. Perhaps I’d be better able to resist him if he couldn’t do the things he did to my body.
I threaded my hand through his hair as he reached beneath my skirt and yanked my panties down. The lace brushing the back of my thighs was like a match against a striker, everywhere he touched me burned.
If only he’d stop touching me.
“This pussy,” he said, casually rubbing his fingers along my folds. “I’ve missed it. You can’t torture me by denying me.”
As if I had an arsenal able to torture him. As if he didn’t have all the power here.
“I’ve not had you in thirty-nine hours.” He ran his teeth along my neck and my hips bucked off the wall. “It’s far too long.” He pushed two long fingers inside me and I sucked in a breath, my knees buckling. I needed this. His fingers. His cock. His mouth. I wanted everything from him.