Chapter 16
Alex
Kat’s expressionwent very still when she saw me. The only hint of surprise I saw was a brief widening of her eyes, which she quickly hid. She didn’t back down, though. And I noticed that she definitely didn’t leave.
“Alex,” she said, her voice soft and slightly rough. “What are you doing?”
It was a good question. This was an impulse. I had poured myself a bath purely because my body was stale and tired after the long drive from Nashville. I had left the door ajar because it never occurred to me not to; Kat was in the next room, and she wouldn’t come in here. She was talking to someone on the phone. I figured I’d soak, I’d dry off, and that would be it.
But then I’d heard her voice calling my name. And I’d wondered what would happen if I told her to come in here. So I had.
Which still left the question: What the hell was I doing?
Was I trying to seduce Kat? If she wanted to be seduced, yes. Hell yes. Did I think this stunt would actually work? I had no idea.
Getting naked wasn’t the most subtle of moves. But she still hadn’t left the bathroom.
In fact, her gaze dropped down, taking me in. The bathtub was big, but I never used bubble bath—I mean, come on—so she could see me pretty clearly, if a bit distorted by the water. I kept myself in good shape. She was definitely seeing that for herself. Her gaze looked at me frankly, not bothering to hide it. Typical Kat.
I lifted an arm from the water and propped an elbow on the porcelain behind me. “You wanted to talk to me about something?” I asked her.
Kat lifted her dark eyes to mine. “Do you really want to play this game?”
“I wasn’t aware we were playing. You’ve seen all of this before. Plenty of times.”
“True.” Her gaze moved to the tattoos on my arms. Kat had always had a thing for my tattoos. “It hasn’t improved much with time.”
I grinned at her. She was such a liar. “Are you sure about that?”
She shrugged. “One naked man looks the same as any other.”
“So how come you’re looking so much at this one?”
Kat opened her mouth to say something, then shook her head. Instead of answering, she started to unbutton her sleeveless blouse.
She was still wearing the blouse and jeans she’d worn all day, though she’d taken off her sandals and her feet were bare. Her long, black hair was in a loose twist at the back of her neck. She stood there and, as I watched, she undid her blouse and dropped it to the floor. She wore a white bra beneath it, lacy, the fabric delicate against her darker skin. She unbuttoned her jeans and dropped those, too.
She was as spectacular as I remembered.
Kat definitely knew how to play this game. Especially with me.
I cleared my throat so that I wouldn’t groan at the sight of her. I watched as she unclasped her bra and dropped it, following it with her panties. Then she came toward the bathtub.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s been a long day of driving. A bath sounds perfect.”
My eyes dropped down her body, and I noticed something new. “You have a tattoo.” She hadn’t had a tattoo when we were married, but now there was delicate ink on her right hipbone, outlining two small vines intertwined, their flowers pressed together like lovers.
“I do,” Kat said, walking toward me. “Do you like it?”
“It’s romantic.” I was distracted from her nakedness by the design. Something about it bothered me.
“You could say that,” Kat said. “I was drunk and sentimental when I got it. The man I got it for didn’t care.”
So she’d got it for a man, then. Someone who she had liked a lot. Maybe she’d even loved him. “Who was he?”
“Just someone who came and went, like the others. I don’t think about him anymore, but I like the tattoo. I decided to keep it.”
She stepped over the edge of the tub, and I finally looked away from her hip. I blinked and shifted as she got in, facing me. The bathtub was just big enough for both of us, but not big enough to put space between us. When Kat lowered herself into the water, her legs slid along mine. Her feet nudged my hip. The water sloshed, some of it spilling over the lip of the tub. I didn’t pay much attention. I was too busy watching the water sluice over Kat’s perfect, naked skin.
Jesus, that body. Kat wasn’t a delicate woman. Her legs were long and toned, her thighs firm. Her hips and ass were rounded. Her belly had the slightest pooch to it—new since I’d last seen her naked—and I wanted to run my hands, then my tongue, over it. Her breasts were lush, her nipples dark. They disappeared by a few tantalizing inches as the water rose over them.
She lifted an arm and put an elbow on the tub’s edge, mirroring my pose. Some of her hair had escaped from its messy knot, the ends dragging in the water. Her shoulders were supple, her arms long and lean. Kat had always been a beautiful woman, but thirteen years of age meant she wasn’t simply beautiful anymore. She was a fucking queen.
She shifted her weight, and her legs moved slickly against mine under the water. There was no hiding the fact that my cock was now very interested, even if I didn’t want her to know. Her gaze flicked down, took me in, then moved back up to my face.
“Can we talk now?” she asked, her voice calm.
“Yes,” I croaked.
She smiled. I needed to remember never to goad Kat, especially if there was a way she could use sex against me. Because she would. And she would win.
I didn’t even think I cared, as long as I had her naked in this bathtub with me.
“Someone came into Knoxy’s, looking for me,” she said.
My warming blood went cold again. My body tensed, which she undoubtedly felt, close as we were. “Do you know who it was?” I asked.
“No. Chris, the other bartender, served him. He described someone I don’t recognize. White, six feet, brown hair, clean shaven. Strong, a little scrawny.”
I frowned. “It doesn’t sound like either the man at the hospital or the guy I punched at your apartment. Does it sound like either of the men you saw with the duffel bag?”
“No, but it was dark when I saw them. And I didn’t get a look at the face of either man who attacked me.”
“Does it sound like an ex-boyfriend?”
Kat gave me a silent glare.
“I have to ask,” I said, thinking of the tattoo. There had been other men after me. I had to remember that.
“No,” she said finally. “It doesn’t sound like the last man I dated in Nashville.”
So there had been someone. I wondered who he was. Was he the tattoo guy? Then again, whoever he was, she wasn’t dating him anymore, and she was naked in the bathtub with me. Tattoo or not, he’d lost and I’d won.
Won what, exactly?I asked myself. Did I want Kat back? She made me stop thinking, made me insane. I didn’t know what I wanted except to lift her onto the edge of this bathtub, press her knees open, and try to remember every trick in the book I’d ever used to make her scream.
“Did this Chris guy tell him anything?” I managed to ask as filthy images soaked through my hopeless brain.
“Just that I was off sick, and he didn’t know when I’d be back.” Kat sighed. “Which, by the way, is never. I quit Knoxy’s.”
I lifted a brow. “I’m sure you’re really broken up about it.”
“Some of us have to work for a living.”
“Not while you’re with me, you don’t.” I looked at the bruises on her bare arm, at the splinted fingers she kept out of the water. She still had scrapes on her back I couldn’t see. “You don’t have to do anything right now except recover. You sure as hell don’t have to go back to the bar where you were almost killed. You don’t have to pour drinks in a low-cut top if you don’t want to. Not ever again.”
“And what am I supposed to do instead?” Her eyes flashed with anger, which only made me hotter. “Sit around your penthouse and play debutante? You forget I’ve already lived a rich, useless life. I left it because I hated it.”
“You left it because your scum brother tried to assault you. And you hated working at Knoxy’s.”
Her jaw dropped. “How do you know that?”
“Because I know you, Kat.” I looked her up and down. “You’re not afraid of hard work, but you’re no one’s doormat, either. You don’t like being stared at and called sweet tits by every drunk who comes through the door, looking for some cheap beer and bad honky tonk music. You’re better than that, and you know it.”
Her cheekbones reddened. “I still need money.”
“A problem I can solve.”
“I’m not taking your money, Alex. Besides, what do you want in return?”
I glared at her. I was pissed off now. “If we weren’t in this bathtub, I’d spank you for that. And you’d like it.”
“Don’t try it,” Kat snapped. “You already got a knee in the balls yesterday. Would you like to make it two days in a row?”
Our gazes locked. She was as hot as I was—I knew it. If I reached over right now, if I slid my hand between those incredible thighs, she would be wet and ready for me. She wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.
But I wouldn’t do it. Kat may have stripped naked and gotten in the bathtub with me, but that didn’t mean she wanted me to touch her. Not yet.
She would, though. And when she wanted it, I’d know.
“There’s a party at an art gallery downtown tomorrow night,” I said. “I’ve been invited. Come with me.”
She blinked at the change of subject. “You’ve been invited to an art gallery? I didn’t know you were into art.”
“A little.” I didn’t know why it was so hard to admit. “It’s sort of a hobby of mine.”
Kat thought this over, taking it in. I definitely hadn’t been an art aficionado when we were married. I wouldn’t call myself an aficionado now, either. Looking at art was just something I liked to do.
“How did you get an invite to some swanky party?” Kat asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation in Hawaii right now?”
“Yes, I am, so I originally turned the invitation down. But I’ll change my mind and accept. If you’ll come with me.”
“Why, Alex? Why do you think I should come with you?”
I shrugged. It was an impulse, like inviting her into the bathroom. I wanted to see Kat in a dress. I wanted to give her a nice night out after the shit she’d just been through. I wanted her to see art the way I did. I wanted to spend time with her.
I didn’t say any of those things. I said, “You just said you don’t want to sit around. Come out and see what Dallas society is like.”
I wanted to see Kat in Dallas society. I wanted to watch her knock them on their asses.
Kat was watching me, and she seemed to read my mind. The corner of her mouth turned up in a smile.
“A party at an art gallery?” she said. “Will there be canapés?”
“There will definitely be canapés.”
“All right, then,” Kat said. “I’ll go.”