Page 45 of Unwritten Rules

I furrow my brows. “Oh, Nathaniel…”

He drops his head. “How does he still hold so much power over me? Even now that the bastard is long dead, he still finds ways to fuck me over.”

We sit silently as I gently rub his arm, offering what little comfort I can give until the light from a torch draws my attention.

“What is that?”

Nate raises his dark head, peering into the distance where the torchlight is coming closer and closer. Realisation strikes us both at the same time.

“Is that Zara?”

He nods, a pained expression on his face. “You go on to bed, littlest DeMarco. This won’t take long.”

I open my mouth to voice my dissent, but he places his hands on my upper arms.

“Please, Hellcat…” He trails off, that nickname hanging between us for a beat, until I nod and slip from the vehicle.

Nate rounds it, placing a hand at the base of my spine to escort me to the bottom of the steps leading to the front door.

I stop to say good night, but pause when I see the look in his eyes. “What is it?”

He cups my cheeks in his large, warm palms as I hear Zara’s feet crunch on the gravel, her arrival imminent.

“Best keep up that ruse, hmm?”

Before I can question his meaning, he’s brought his lips down to mine to press a soft kiss on my mouth.

“Nate?” Zara’s voice sounds far away as I soak up the pretend intimacy that we’ve clearly put on for her benefit.

Why? I haven’t quite figured it out yet, but I’ll take what I can get, like the junkie I am.

But instead of pulling away as I did on Tuesday when I’d instigated this charade, Nate slips one hand down my body to rest on the base of my spine, tugging me closer until I’m flush with his body.

My mouth opens with a gasp, and he thrusts his tongue forward, caressing my tongue in long, languid strokes as though we have all the time in the world.

He groans deep in his chest, sending a wave of desire crashing through my body, undulating in my core, and I am unwilling and unable to stop the moan that rips from my throat at the simple meeting of our mouths.

It feels like his mouth is making love to mine, and even as that thought crosses my mind, I shove it away, suddenly angry at him for ghosting me for days only to turn up on my night out.

Yes, I’m aware that he saved me a lot of trouble with a drunk Cal, but that’s neither here nor there.

Why he’s decided to continue this ruse, as he put it, is anyone’s guess, but I’m suddenly fuming mad at him – and at myself. At my inability to resist any crumbs of affection I can steal from this man.

I tear myself away, stumbling backwards, only for his grip on my ass to stop me from falling on it.

“Goodnight, Nathaniel.”

I shove him none too lightly away from me, allowing my wrath to flash from my eyes.

“I…I will be up shortly, Mila.”

Turning on my heel as Zara steps closer, I mumble loud enough that he can hear me, “Don’t bother.”

Once I’ve reached the top of the steps, I glance back to see Nate and Zara immersed in what appears to be a very heated conversation about the Gate House, no doubt. I slide in the front doors and up the stairs, unheeded.

Tossing my clothes in the hamper, I make short work of my nightly routine in Nate’s ensuite, surprised as all hell to emerge, only to find the man himself already undressed and underneath the sheets.

“You-you’re staying the night, then?”