Chapter 1 - THE MAN WHO WASN'T SUPPOSED TO KISS ME
“Now, would you like to repeat what you just said to her?”
Nathan's face went completely white.
Adrian Moretti didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
The three men behind him stood absolutely still, their black suits immaculate, their expressions empty. Somehow that was more frightening than if they'd been shouting.
Nathan lowered the hundred-dollar bills.
“Mr. Moretti. I didn't realize Claire was… associated with you.”
Associated.
I almost laughed.
Twenty seconds earlier, I hadn't known I was associated with Adrian either.
His arm was still around my waist.
I could feel the warmth of his hand through my coat.
More dangerously, I could feel my own heart pounding against my ribs.
Adrian looked down at the money in Nathan's hand.
“You were offering charity?”
Nathan swallowed.
“It was a joke.”
“Explain it.”
Nathan glanced toward the phones recording us.
His fiancée had stopped smiling.
“Claire and I have history.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“So I've heard.”
My head snapped toward him.
What did that mean?
Nathan apparently wondered the same thing.
“You know who I am?”
“Yes.”
One word.
Nathan stepped back.
Adrian turned toward me as if Nathan had suddenly stopped existing.
“What do you need?”
“Nothing.”
His eyes dropped to my basket.
Milk.
Bread.
Bananas.
Peanut butter.
Prenatal vitamins.
Nothing else.
Then he looked at me again.
“Claire.”
“I said I'm fine.”
“You have seventeen dollars.”
The entire aisle went quiet.
My humiliation returned so violently that my eyes burned.
“How do you know that?”
Adrian's expression changed.
He realized he'd said too much.
Nathan gave a short laugh.
“Seventeen dollars? Jesus, Claire.”
Adrian turned so slowly that Nathan immediately stopped laughing.
“If I hear you insult her again, our next conversation won't happen in a grocery store.”
I grabbed Adrian's sleeve.
“Don't.”
He looked down at my hand.
“Please,” I whispered.
Something softened in his face.
He nodded once.
Then he took my basket.
“What are you doing?”
“Shopping.”
“I don't need you buying my groceries.”
“Good. Because I'm buying mine.”
“You don't have anything in there that you eat.”
He studied the peanut butter.
“I'm developing new interests.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
Adrian's mouth almost smiled.
Nathan stared at us like he was watching the laws of physics break.
Ten minutes later, Adrian had filled a second cart with enough food to survive a winter.
I objected to almost every item.
He ignored almost every objection.
At checkout, I tried to remove half of it.
He put everything back.
“This is ridiculous.”
“You're pregnant.”
“Pregnant women don't require six boxes of pasta.”
“The baby might like pasta.”
“The baby is the size of a mango.”
“Then the mango might like pasta.”
I stared at him.
His bodyguards suddenly became fascinated by the ceiling.
When we reached the parking lot, I turned on him.
“Why did you kiss me?”
The humor disappeared from his face.
For several seconds, Adrian simply looked at me.
Then his gaze dropped to my stomach.
When he spoke, his voice was quieter.
“Because Nathan was getting too close to you.”
“That explains stepping between us. It does not explain kissing me.”
“No.”
“Then explain.”
He looked toward the black SUV waiting beside the curb.
“I can't. Not here.”
My stomach tightened.
“Adrian.”
His eyes met mine.
“There are things you don't know about Nathan.”
Cold traveled down my spine.
“What things?”
Before Adrian could answer, one of his men approached.
“Boss.”
He handed Adrian a phone.
On the screen was a photograph.
My apartment building.
Taken less than ten minutes earlier.
A man in a dark coat was standing outside my door.
And in his hand was a photograph of me.
May you like
Adrian's entire expression changed.
“Claire,” he said quietly, “you're not going home tonight.”
