Page 160 of Ruthless Creatures

He blinks, slowly, like he’s taking that in. A small smile curves his lips.

“I’ve missed that lethal sense of humor, tulip.”

“Call me that old nickname again and I’ll shove that bowl of shells straight up your ass.”

We stare at each other. He finally moves, uncrossing his legs and sitting forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. He fixes me in his piercing gaze.

“What took you so long to get here?”

He says it gently, not like an accusation, but that’s what it feels like.

Like he thinks Ifailed.

“Gee, I don’t know. Could be the fact that I thought you were dead.”

“I sent you the key—”

“That stupid key got stuck in your outgoing mailbox. I only received it recently, after the owner of the Thornwood found it during renovations.”

His lips part. Then he closes his eyes and exhales.

“Yeah. Great plan, David. You know what would’ve been better?A phone call.”

He shakes his head, frowning. “I couldn’t take the risk of contacting you directly. The police were crawling all over you for months.”

“Okay, that covers the first few months. How about the four and a half years after that?”

When he looks at me now, his gaze is assessing, like I’m someone he hasn’t met before.

He says softly, “You’ve changed.”

“Yep. I’m not worried about being easy to swallow anymore. You can choke.”

After another beat of silence, he says, “Why are you so angry with me?”

I don’t recall him being this stupid.

“Gosh, where to start? Oh, here’s a good place: you disappeared. The day. Before. Our fucking.Wedding.”

He stands abruptly and walks across the room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts, his shoulders tense. Looking out the open French doors toward the sea, he says, “I’m not the man you think I am, tulip. There’s much I didn’t tell you.”

“I’m already caught up to date there, David. And don’t push me on the tulip thing. I meant what I said about the bowl of shells.”

He glances at me over his shoulder. Then he glances down at my left hand.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, too, isn’t there?”

I twist Kage’s promise ring around with my thumb. Suddenly, it feels hot, like it might burn through my skin and sear my bones.

When I remain silent, he prompts, “I know a Russian love knot when I see one, Natalie.”

“I bet you do. Did you give one to Claudia?”

Surprise flashes in his eyes. It’s followed quickly by alarm.

He turns from the French doors and walks back to me, his expression worried and his tone rising. “How do you know about Claudia? Who’s been talking to you?”

“What, no denials? It’s not like you to not have a good cover story all ready to go.”