Trust Fund Fiance - Naima Simone Page 0,35

what she wished, what she desired. Maybe it was for the best—for both of them—that they were making a clean break. Before they crossed a line that neither of them could come back from.

That they would ultimately regret.

Giving in to a need that he refused to acknowledge, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to her forehead. He inhaled her honeysuckle-and-cream scent, capturing it like a photograph. Her breath tickled his neck, and he stood still for a long moment, enjoying the sensation on his skin.

Lifting his head, he met her gaze. His gut tightened to the point of pain. Sadness swirled in those chicory depths. But so did a touch of heat, of desire. Fuck. It wouldn’t require more than the barest of movements to take her mouth. To possess it. To find out if his dirtiest midnight fantasies about her texture, her taste came close to reality. With one tiny shift, he could satisfy his curiosity and just know...

He stepped back, dropping his arms to his sides. “You’d better go before your family starts to wonder where you are,” he said, forcing a neutrality into his voice that didn’t exist.

“Right,” she agreed softly. “Take care of yourself, Zeke.”

“You, too, Ray.”

He turned to watch her leave, and though she paused on the threshold of the front entrance after opening the door, she didn’t turn around or glance over her shoulder at him.

Only when she left and he stared at a closed door did he exhale and shut his eyes.

He should be grateful. Relieved. And he was. But damn if he could decide if he’d dodged a bullet or lost the one thing that had given him purpose these last few weeks.

Given him peace.

He shook his head and pivoted on his heel, heading for the staircase.

It didn’t matter. She was gone.

And in the end, it was for the best.

For both of them.

Ten

Reagan stepped into the cool interior of the restaurant with a sigh, thankful to be out of the early September heat. It was only about three weeks from the official start of fall, but Texas didn’t know it. Fixing a polite smile on her face, she strode to the maître d’s stand.

“Hello,” she greeted. “I’m meeting Douglas Sinclair. He should have already arrived.”

“Of course,” the young man said, nodding. “Please follow me.”

She was ten minutes late for lunch with her father, but considering he’d sprung the “invitation” on her an hour ago, it couldn’t be helped. He should be thankful she’d rearranged her plans to meet him anyway.

The only reason she had acquiesced to this impromptu lunch date was because he’d made it seem important, urgent even. It’d been two weeks since her father had demanded she end her engagement with Ezekiel, and a part of her still resented him for that. But maybe this lunch could be the start of healing that rift. Her father loved her; in her heart, she acknowledged he only wanted the best for her. Even if he could be overbearing and stubborn, she’d never doubted that...

“Reagan.” Douglas stood from a table next to the large picture window that looked over downtown Royal. “We’ve been waiting on you. You look lovely.”

She barely registered the kiss he pressed to her hair, focusing on the we. This was supposed to be a lunch for just the two of them. But as her attention snagged on the man also rising from his chair, a cold sliver of hurt and anger settled between her ribs.

Of course her father hadn’t just wanted to spend quality time with her. He had his own agenda, and that trumped everything.

“Reagan, I’d like to introduce you to Justin McCoy. Justin...” he smiled broadly at the other man “...my beautiful daughter Reagan Sinclair.”

Justin McCoy. The tall, handsome man with light blond hair smiled at her, his blue eyes quickly roaming over her before meeting her gaze again.

God, she needed a shower. She cut her father a sharp side glance.

“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Reagan,” Justin said, grasping her hand although she hadn’t offered it. He lifted it toward his lips, and her stomach lurched. If not for her father’s eagle-eyed gaze, she would’ve snatched her arm back. Especially since she hadn’t given Justin permission to touch her.

On second thought...

She tugged her hand back before Justin could touch her, ignoring her father’s frown and Justin’s shock. She didn’t believe in the ask forgiveness rather than permission school of thought. And if neither this man nor her father respected her boundaries, then she