Provoked (Forbidden Crush #2)

Chapter 10

10

This. This feeling of fluttery excitement and anticipation. It’s what those six months of dating strangers were supposed to deliver and never did. But ten minutes of touching Justin and I never want to stop. I guess my heart never did give up belonging to him. I’m breathless from seeing his cock come alive for me. Let’s face it, I’d be breathless simply from seeing his muscles naked, even if he had no reaction to me at all.

But he did. And I’m holding that knowledge close to my heart and relishing it with everything I’ve got.

Except Justin’s hand is insistent, tugging on mine, reminding me that I offered up a secret. It’s time I told him. He’ll guess soon enough if he hasn’t already. Now that his brain is fully back online, there will be no escaping his sharp gaze.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, facing away from him, and clutch his hand in both of mine. It’s warm and strong. What’s a little pride in the face of having him back alive with me? “I love you, Justin,” I say softly but clearly .

His fingers tighten around mine. “Are you going to elaborate?” His voice is curious, but still stern. No doubt an order will be forthcoming if I don’t.

I shrug, still not looking his way. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I still don’t care for the guy that thinks Margot is… well, whatever. And I’m not fond of the man who yells and orders people about. But the Justin who sat with me in the dark, who worries about me being here alone, who sent the doorman a month of meals when he was out sick, that Justin I’m so in love with, nobody else can even compete.”

“Ingrid,” he finally interjects slowly. I brace myself for the total rejection coming. That his cock was just a physical reaction out of his control. “How long has this been going on?”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the total disbelief in his voice. He genuinely had no clue, at least not until very recently.

“Since about a week after I met you,” I tell him softly before untangling our hands and preparing to stand. I think this is enough confessing for right now. But his hand reaches up and tugs on my braid hanging down my back.

“Come back here, Ingrid. Please?”

I turn finally to see a curious light in his bright green eyes. He tugs again, so I lie down and curl into his side with a deep sigh. My hand hesitantly extends to rest on his bare chest. His heartbeat is steady and strong.

“Is that why —? Fuck it is, isn’t it?” He heaves a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching down on my hip like he’s determined to keep me right here.

“Margot was never anything but convenient. Clearly even that was a mistake, in hindsight. But I’m not going to apologize for not seducing a teenager,” he adds dryly.

My eyebrows shoot up at that. Does that mean he might consider a woman in her twenties? But it’s not like he’d have to seduce me when I’m clearly his for the taking. He drops a kiss on my forehead. “Why don’t we table this until after we’re married?”

I’m about to protest when I scan his face and see the signs of pain etching the lines around his eyes. He’s reached his limit but is too proud to say so.

I’m reluctant to leave the warmth of his body against mine, but his pain medication is on the other side of the room. I meet his questioning gaze with a brief nod and stand to deal with the practicalities of his recovery. A few minutes later, his eyes drift shut and I head downstairs to figure out dinner for the three of us.

It’s such a prosaic task after the heavy emotions of the last few minutes that my brain can’t focus. Which is why Fred finds me staring blankly into the open refrigerator.

He coughs loudly. “Kid, you okay?”

I turn with a smile. “Yeah. Justin is…” I shrug, not finding the words to finish that sentence.

Fred snorts, but I can tell he’s almost ready to smile. “If the two of you keep running away from each other, eventually you’re going to collide hard on the other side of the world.”

“Or upstairs,” I offer with a sunny smile.

“Like that, is it? Well, I wasn’t enjoying retirement that much, anyway.” And with that cryptic remark, Fred reaches over my shoulder for a beer and then disappears with it out to the front porch. I go back to making a salad to go with the hamburgers I’ve decided will be fast and easy.

My frustration with my injuries is mounting by the day. There’s too much to be done and while Fred has been a taciturn but willing gopher, he’s not exactly set up to advise Ingrid on her investments or writing a new will. She has to have one. That much money floating around loose will just invite trouble.

“Why can’t you just inherit it if something happens to me?” Ingrid asks, her brow furrowed with bewilderment.

“Conflict of interest? It would look like I’d arranged everything for just that outcome,” I point out dryly.

Ingrid rolls her eyes. “Nobody that knows you would ever think that. Of course, they probably wouldn’t imagine you marrying me either… Fine, can I leave it all to Rose’s new baby?”

“Has it been born yet?”

“No, not that I’ve heard.”

“Then no, or at least not in a way that will stick. Plus, you should ask your friend if she’s okay with that. You know as well as anyone what kind of trouble that amount of money can cause. She might not want that for her family.” I try to lay that out for her as gently as possible, but I can see the welling tears in Ingrid’s brown eyes as the realization hits. She’s still alone, more isolated by the millions about to land in her bank account than ever.

Silently, she nods and turns away.

“Ingrid?”

“I’ll think about it, find a charity or something.” Her voice is flat. I growl with frustration because if I were mobile and had technology handy, I could hand her three to pick from in no time.

But instead I’m stuck here waiting. Waiting on Ingrid’s answer, waiting on the judge, waiting on Fred to locate a second witness.

By tonight we’ll be married, though, and I can relax slightly on the Margot front. Although we have to get the word out to make sure she knows that particular plot has no future. It bothers me that Fred and the local cops haven’t been able to turn up any hints as to her whereabouts. If we don’t even know what state she’s in, I’ll have to cast a pretty wide net of publicity. I haven’t talked to Ingrid about what that would look like either. I’m actively praying we can stick to the local paper, but it’s looking less and less likely.

I’m intentionally not thinking about Ingrid’s feelings for me. I still can’t quite believe that’s not some kind of trauma imprinting from losing her parents so suddenly. But the way she didn’t expect me to return those feelings in any way was probably more convincing than the words themselves. There’s no way I’m good for her, although I hope not so bad that we have to return to snail mail communication. Enough. I’ll work on this problem tomorrow or the next day. Ingrid understands that her safety comes first. Once we’ve secured that, we can worry about her happiness.

But I make the mistake of opening the book Ingrid left on the nightstand. She must have been reading it while waiting for me to wake up for another dose of pills. It opens somewhere in the middle of the book:

“There’s no help for it, Kitty. You’ve been compromised beyond recovery. You’ll have to marry me. I’ve already dispatched Carter to the local vicar to arrange for the bans.” The Duke’s weary voice held only resignation, without a hint of love.

Kitty’s eyes filled with angry tears. “Why am I the one that’s compromised? Why aren’t you the one facing social ruin?”

“Because you are the weaker sex, much more susceptible to temptations. And besides, I’m a duke.” His matter-of-fact recitation of the social bounds only served to inflame Kitty’s already bruised emotions.

“Well, I don’t want to get married,” she announced firmly, crossing her arms over her dimity covered chest.

“Neither do I. But married we shall be. We’ll wait at least a month to consummate the marriage to add credence to the story that this is a love match. ”

Kitty’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “You can wait forever as far as I’m concerned.”

The Duke’s snort of disbelief held all the arrogance of his position. “That’s not an option, my dear. Eventually, I will need an heir, preferably more than one. I thought to delay that for at least another five years, but that was before a wife was thrust on me. I might as well enjoy the perks that come with the position of a married man.” His gaze raked Kitty’s still form with a new kind of speculation.

Kitty froze and suddenly had the vision of a small animal encountering the hunting instinct of one of the big cats in the newfangled London zoo. She gulped. For some reason she couldn’t quite explain, her most feminine core began to tingle.

What the hell is this drivel? And why is Ingrid reading it? But my brain quickly dances over to the sudden realization after reading that passage that Ingrid is most likely a virgin. Something I hadn’t considered before. And quite frankly, had no reason to even think about. If pushed, I would have said it would be highly unusual for a young woman as pretty as she is to remain a virgin past the age of twenty. And that would be stretching it. Even an ultra conservative religious community would find a way to marry her off long before that. But it would explain the pink cheeks and averted glances. Although her rather delighted acceptance of my erect cock under the sheet doesn’t fit with that scenario at all.

And does it really matter? We’re about to be legally married. Fuck, I’m back to thinking about the problem I’d already firmly decided to table.

Footsteps sound on the staircase down the hall. Lots of them and too heavy to be Ingrid. I guess the time has arrived. I push myself up slightly in the bed and paste a less sour expression on my face.