"I'm not."
He steps closer, slow and decisive, until heat radiates off him and wraps around me. "You are."
"I don't get jealous."
His mouth tilts. "Everyone gets jealous. Just some people pretend they're too good for it."
I lift my chin. "Don't patronize me."
"Then don't lie to my face." His voice drops, rough and intimate.
I can't help myself. "Did you sleep with her?"
Anger fills his expression. "I've already gone over this with you."
"That's not an answer!"
"I don't answer ridiculous questions."
Heat flares in my chest. "She sounded entitled."
His gaze sharpens. "She is entitled. To her own delusions. Not to me."
"And the reason she's still circling you?"
He leans closer, too close, and his mouth brushes my ear as he says, "Because she doesn't know how to lose."
A shiver races down my spine. I step back to regain air. "You should have handled this."
His eyes drag over my mouth. "Agree. And I will. But I'm more interested in handling you right now."
My breath catches. Every nerve in my body lights.
His hand slides to my waist, fingers firm, grounding. "You're wound tight, Minx."
"Don't call me that when I'm trying to be angry."
He smirks. "I don't know any other way."
I glare at him. "You're barely around. I see you for an hour a day, if that."
His mouth softens. "I'm working."
"I know. I'm not stupid."
"No, you're not."
I stare at him, my heart racing.
His thumb strokes my hip once, slow enough to set my skin on fire. "You want me around more, Minx?"
The question knocks the air out of me. The space between us isstarting to break things I don't want broken. But my jealousy still flares.
He dips his head, lips grazing the pulse in my neck. "Have I neglected my wife?"
Heat floods me, sharp and traitorous. My fingers curl into his shirt.
He orders, "Don't let her get to you."
