The Wedding Must Go On by Robyn Grady Read Free Book Online Page B

Even if the world went mad and he asked her for her hand in a matter of weeks, given what she’d told him earlier, it would only be for the competition. The marriage could be easily dissolved. She was not looking to get tied down. She was a career person, like him.
    Nevertheless, when Roxy found the car door release, where he would normally have walked her to the door, Nate stayed glued to his seat. Etiquette was one thing, stupidity versus self-knowledge and survival quite another.
    From beneath lowered lashes, she said, ‘Thanks for the lift.’
    Gripping the steering wheel, he nodded once. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
    ‘Nate, I am sorry but I—’
    Anticipating her words, he cut her off. ‘Please. Think about my plan for Marla and Greg overnight. If you’re still not convinced, I won’t bother you again.’
    Did she know he was stretching the truth? Not only was this a good plan, it was the only one he had. With persistence—some subtle persuasion—Roxy would come around.
    In the street-lit shadows locked within the car’s cabin, her uneasy expression eased and their gazes held for a powerful moment. He gripped the wheel tighter, set his toes into their inner soles more, but that pleasant sensation burning high on his thighs didn’t leave him. If she tipped half an inch closer, the fight would be over. He’d have to kiss her—at least just once more. Hell, if she didn’t come right out and belt him, kissing her and staying with it might even help his cause.
    But then the car door whooshed open and closed and in a blink she was gone, striding down a path that led to her door while the throbbing in all his main arteries pulsed on.
    Still, as he watched her retreat, a small smile hooked up on one side of his mouth. He liked the way she walked, particularly in those black tailored trousers. That silk blouse was sexy too. And boots … he’d always been a fan. What kind of lingerie was she hiding beneath that ensemble? He’d bet French lace.
White
sexy-as-hell French lace.
    A raucous laugh, loud enough to penetrate his window’s glass, grabbed Nate’s attention. On the other side of the street, two youths were strutting down the footpath, jeans falling off their backsides, bright coals from cigarettes dangling from their lips. A chill chased up Nate’s spine and he shot another glance Roxy’s way. Standing outside her front door, she was digging around in her bag for a key. And now those guys had stopped to check out his car. Or were they eyeing the babe standing alone among those convenient shadows?
    His heart thudding low in his chest, Nate wrung the steering wheel and waited while Roxy fished around more. When the youths swapped hushed words, laughed again then ambled across to Roxy’s side—
his
side—of the street, Nate made an executive decision. He didn’t care if those guys were A-grade citizens out for a harmless stroll, which he doubted. He wouldn’t leave until Roxy was safe inside.
    Nate shoved open the door.
    The noise earned the boys’ attention. Standing in the cool night air, Nate challenged their wary gaze. After a few seconds, one flicked his butt at the gutter before both continued leisurely past and down the street. Nate almost bared his teeth.
Good riddance and don’t come back
.
    When the pair was a block away, he focused on Roxy again. Had she lost her keys somewhere? Did she have aspare for the house? He couldn’t leave until she was inside, which at this rate might take all night.
    As Nate approached the house Roxy pulled her nose out from her bag and her expression opened in surprise.
    She stammered, ‘Wh-what are you doing?’
    ‘Helping to find your keys.’
    ‘They slipped to the bottom, but I have them now.’ She withdrew a set from her bag and jingled.
    ‘Right. Good.’ Glancing over his shoulder, Nate craned his neck to be sure that unsavoury element was indeed gone. ‘You ought to get inside.’ He crowded her back towards the door. ‘It’s late.’
    ‘I’ve