I grab a cookie and the case on my way out. As soon as the door closes, I breathe easier. I don’t know why. I’mleaving the safety of my home to re-enter the lion’s den. Shoving the cookie in my mouth, I think,Lord help me.
It’s a quick subway ride down to Tribeca. Not enough time to talk myself out of following through with this plan.Fully commit, I remind myself as I walk down two blocks to his building. Just before I reach the door, I stop and slip the ring on again. I wiggle my finger, admiring it before looking up to see Baker already holding the door open for me. “Showtime,” I whisper under my breath.
“Need help with the case,Msss. . .?”
“Landers. And I got it. Thank you.”
I don’t hang around to spot his reaction. It will make me too nervous, so I keep walking like I live here and enter the elevator. Punching the button for the penthouse isn’t something I ever thought I’d be doing. If I’m busted, this might be the only time, so I savor the thrill it brings.
When I reach his door, I check the time. I’ve been gone for hours. What am I walking into? His anger again? His frustration? Irritation with me? Only one way to find out.
I steel my nerves and knock loudly.Annoyingly loud.
CHAPTER 10
Warner
Relief washesthrough me the moment I lay eyes on Delaney again. Another emotion takes over when my gaze dips to the suitcase set at her side. Annoyance? Exasperation? Irritation? A combination of all three, I believe. “Moving in?”
She walks past me, leaving the suitcase behind. I assume for me to retrieve. “Back in.”
“Moving back in?” I laugh like she made a joke when I know damn well she didn’t. She’s as serious as the concussion I have.
“Yes,” she calls from the other end of the hall before rounding the corner to the bedrooms.
I grab the suitcase with my good hand because that’s what I now have—one good hand and one bad—and lock the door. Trailing in her path, I remark, “Back in because you supposedly moved out two days ago,” I say it more for myself like I might believe the words if said out loud.
I didn’t even know if she was coming back. She’s backalright. Back to spin me into her tangled web again. I would say of lies, but there’s still that minutest chance that she’s telling the truth. If she is, I’ll be the fool for not knowing my own wife from a stranger on the street. But if my gut instincts are proven correct, there will be hell to pay.
When I reach the spare bedroom, I flick on the light, wondering why she’s standing in the dark. “Delaney?”
“In here,” she calls frommybedroom. Her tone is way too comfortable for someone who’s knowingly invading my space. Again.
I set the suitcase down before marching down the hall to my bedroom. “You’re not staying in here,” I say as soon as I see her curled up on the bed.
Flopping her arms wide, she rolls onto her back. “I must stay in here. I’ve missed this bed so much.” The bed, not me.Noted.
“You’re not staying here.” Thumbing over my shoulder, I glare at her. “The bed in the other room is already made upforguests.”
She props herself up onto her elbows, those blue eyes shining with the devil inside. “I’m not a guest, dear husband. I’m your wife. If you’d be more comfortable with us sleeping in separate rooms, then the guest room bed is all made up for you to enjoy.”
“Listen, Delaney?—”
“Oh geez,” she huffs, falling flat on her back again. Only her eyes pivot toward me. “Do we have to do this? It’s not like sleeping together killed you.”
“It almost did when I saw that bagel in the bed.”
Her laughter comes easy as if there’s no strife between us at all. Rolling to her side, she rests her head on her hand with her elbow punctuating the bed. “That was delicious. Did you eat yours?”
“I saved it for you.” I come to the edge of the mattress to grab her by an ankle and pull her closer. Not closerto me, but to the edge of my bed. Pulling her off it onto the floor seems a little harsh, even for me. A squeal and a trilling giggle leave her smiling like . . .like.. . like she might not hate me. “Do you know how long I spent getting poppy seeds out of the carpet?”
“No, but I’m willing to wager your entire life savings that you’re going to tell me.”
Wonder if she got credit for snark as a second language. She’s damn good at it. “I’m not wagering anything other than you’ll be in that bed one way or the other.” Fed up, I decide to remove myself from the situation before I burst a blood vessel in my head.
But before I reach the door, she says, “If you’re trying to seduce me, Mr. Landers . . .” Her dramatic pause draws me back, connecting our gazes once again. “It’s working.”
Although she frustrates me like no other woman ever has, she’s also fucking gorgeous. The afternoon sunlight filters through the surrounding buildings, kissing the shine on her lips and making me wish I could do the same.
