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He says something to her that I can’t hear, and she nods, and then they both turn toward me.
Her smile gets bigger when she sees me.
I’m right beside her then.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” Christian tells her.
“Okay,” she answers. “Thanks for bowling with me tonight.”
His smile is fuckingaffectionateas he nods. “Any time.”
This man should have her.Fuck. He’s exactly what she deserves.
And all I want to do is shove him away from her, carry her back to the hotel, and tie her to the bed.
And keep her.
I breathe in deeply and unclench the hand I didn’t realize had curled into a fist.
“You ready to go?” Linnea asks me.
“Yes.” Her eyes widen slightly at my short answer.
My hand goes to her lower back and I nudge her toward our car. I try to be gentle, but I’m seething and I know I need to get a fucking grip.
“Goodnight, Jonah. It was nice to meet you,” Waite says behind me.
“Yeah,” I answer.
I don’t have to be nice. I won’t be seeing him much, if at all, after this. Once Linnea is officially dating him, she won’t be under my protection anymore. I won’t come back to D.C. with her on her dates. I won’t go to the galas and the balls. I won’t go to his fucking inauguration. Iwillbe sending in an absentee ballot though, and I just might not vote for him. And I absolutely won’t fucking go to their goddamned wedding.
I put her in the passenger seat—I literally pick her up by the waist andput herinto the leather bucket seat—and lean over her to fasten the seat belt. I hold my breath as I do it to keep from pulling in her scent.
But then I make the mistake of looking at her before pulling back.
She’s watching me with wide eyes, her lips parted, breathing fast. She almost looks scared. But…her throat is flushed.
Her adrenaline is pumping, but this isn’t nervous adrenaline.
“Jonah—”
“Are your panties wet now?” I growl.
She wets her lips and nods.
I lean back and slam the door, stalking around to the driver’s side. I get in and shift into drive, easing us into traffic.
“Jonah—”
“I need you to not talk right now,” I say, low and firm.
“Excuse me?”
I stop at the light that turns red. I risk a glance in her direction.
She’s watching me with a frown.
“I just really need tonotrehash your kiss with Waite, okay?” I tell her. “I don’t want to hear about it or have you ask me questions about it. I amnotgoing to analyze it for you. You’re going to have to call Astrid after all. But no, Duchess, not every man’s kiss is going to make you hot and wet, though I suppose it’s good that the future president’s does.”