She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 187

(Natasha)

The drive is gravel and long enough to make a point.

Two full minutes of crunch.

The kind of approach you build when you don't want neighbors.

The driver kills the engine.

The man from the passenger seat comes round, opens my door, cuts the zip ties with a small folding knife in three controlled motions.

I rub the welts and don't thank him.

Thank you would be wrong on every conceivable level.

Jeffrey Bauer is waiting on the porch.

He’s wearing a sport coat with an open collar and the expression of a man who’s rehearsed smiling in a mirror.

"Natasha."

He says it the way people say finally.

He’s cooked me dinner.

The dining table is laid for two.

White table cloth, candles in silver holders, a platter under a domed lid on the sideboard.

The French doors at the far end open onto a flagstone terrace.

I take careful note of where all the exits are.

Doors and windows.

Any place with an opening large enough for me to crawl out of.

Jeffrey pulls out my chair like we’re on a date.

My skin is crawling but I’m very careful to keep that off my face.

The driver and the other one have made themselves scarce.

I’m sure Jeffrey wouldn’t want them intruding on our time together.

"Please sit. You must be exhausted."

Oh my god.

Yes, I’m tired. After you had me drugged and kidnapped you complete fucking lunatic.

I keep the words inside and sit down demurely, even managing to murmur a Thank you.

And the Oscar goes to...

There's a butter knife next to my plate, but I’m far more interested in the fork.

It’s a far superior weapon with those four sharp tines.

Jeffrey doesn’t seem to even consider that I may choose to attack.

He dishes up for me first, like a butler.

Lamb, some kind of pale reduction, steamed vegetables.

He pours us both wine before sits.

Then he talks.

God, does he talk.

He tells me about the Warren annual report, the year I made CFO.

The announcement was on page eleven.

He kept the page.

He had it framed and has kept it in his desk drawer while he waited for me to see where my destiny truly lay and come to him.

He tells me Chase never deserved me.

He saw it the first time he sat across a table from him and watched him look past me when I spoke.

He would never do that. He’d never ignore me. He sees my true worth.

He wants me to understand how happy he will make me.

He tells me he hasn’t dated anyone else since the first time we met.

It was at an event I don’t remember, long before I recall being introduced to him.

I don’t tell him that.

I listen.

I don’t offer him false flattery, because I don’t think I can sell it right now.

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