Chapter 2

Bonnie

I would have recognized Nash Preston anywhere. Those gray as slate eyes that took no prisoners. That square chiseled jaw. He was still sporting two days’ worth of stubble. How he managed to maintain that carefully constructed messy look, I couldn’t tell you. He wore a pair of casual khaki linen pants, with a gray t-shirt and a dark-checked shirt on top, with the buttons open.

He loomed in my doorway, his tall build blocking the entrance. I had to crane my neck to look up at him. The cellphone in my hand nearly fell to the floor. I tried to pull the folds of my robe tighter around my body, quickly realizing that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. I didn’t want him to realize that, too. He stared at me, with a look of recognition on his face, like he was glad to meet an old friend.

“Bonnie, I’m sorry to drop in like this,” he said, in that unusually calm deep voice I hadn’t managed to forget.

“Nash? What are you doing here?” I blurted, clutching the sides of my robe together. I must have been a terribly pathetic sight, in my thin silk robe, my hair damp and limp around my shoulders, my skin flushed and yet pale under the fluorescent light of the hallway. And he looked amused; his eyes had a look of nostalgic recognition.

“Can I come in?” he asked politely, as he stepped into my apartment without waiting for a response.

My mouth fell open slightly, from the shock of it, but I managed to shut the door behind me. He seemed too big, and my apartment suddenly looked very small with him in there. He looked around with his gray eyes, drinking in my possessions, the cactus on my window sill, the pile of Chinese takeaway boxes next to the sink in the kitchen. If I was pissed off before, now my limbs were shaking from full-fledged rage. But Nash Preston looked pleased. I was embarrassed because I figured he was judging me, but he simply continued to smile. Like he was absolutely comfortable in these surroundings.

“What are you doing here, Nash?” I repeated.

His hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his pants. He wasn’t fooling anyone by trying to look like a normal person though. His dark shaggy hair and that two-day stubble wasn’t tricking me. He was the same privileged billionaire womanizer I’d known in college.

But he did look gorgeous. The same athletic build and broad shoulders that instantly made me feel safe. As much as I tried to force myself to despise him, I could feel my shoulders sagging. I was softening. He’d always had that effect on me.

“I decided to come see you in person, before our big meeting tomorrow,” he finally said, training his eyes back on me. I could feel my cheeks flushing. I wondered if he knew what I was thinking. I was trying to look at him angrily, when on the inside I was turned on from him just standing there. How was he still so hot? In fact, had he gotten hotter?

“Why?” I asked, flinging my phone over on the couch beside me. I was starkly aware of my lack of clothing, especially now that he was looking at me again. I wasn’t exactly properly “put together.” It was like he was undecided whether I was clothed underneath my robe or not. The smile forming on his face told me that he was leaning toward… not. I wished I’d known he was coming. This was not the state in which I wanted to be seen by Nash for the first time after all these years.

“I thought I’d visit an old friend, check on how you’re doing. It’s a big day tomorrow; I can’t imagine it’s easy for you,” he said, his gaze dropping briefly to my breasts. I crossed my arms over them, very conscious of my nipples, which were definitely misbehaving. Something told me that he could see right through the thin silk, that he could see my nipples. I knew they were hard underneath. And this time, I had no chance of hiding them under layers of clothing. Was this really happening right now? How could I stop it? I tried to concentrate on anger instead.

“We were never friends, and you’re right. It isn’t easy for me,” I snapped, tipping my head to the side as I glared at him. I wanted him to notice that I was angry. A part of me wanted him to leave, while another part wanted him to stay so I could look at him some more. But I was consciously trying to build up my temper. I had lost, and he had won. I may have been the star pupil in college, but in the long run, he was buying me out.

“I hear that you dedicated the past five years to building the firm. That’s impressive,” he said, surprising me with a softness in his eyes. I expected him to gloat, but he was making a good show of trying to appear apologetic. I wasn’t buying it.

“You heard right. I put in a lot of effort into it,” I said, my fingers twitching as I held on to my arms. I could feel my nails digging into my flesh.

“I understand,” Nash said, his gaze dropping to my breasts again. This time, I followed the look and noticed that in my effort to keep my arms tightly crossed, my breasts had pushed up together. My ample cleavage had managed to part the robe, and I was literally thrusting my breasts in his face. The last thing I wanted was for Nash Preston to assume that I was throwing myself at him!

I gasped and turned on my heels, pulling the robe together again. He hadn’t said a word, made no comment on what had just happened. But I still didn’t want to look at him. I was angry, embarrassed and turned on, all at the same time.

Nash remained silent, giving me time to supposedly gather myself.

“Well, I didn’t have a rich daddy to give me the money I needed. I had to do it all myself,” I snapped at him, trying to provoke him maybe. Also, I hoped that I could simply pretend that he hadn’t just seen my nearly bare breasts.

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I have to do this,” he said, breathing in deeply. As if. There wasn’t a sorry bone in his body. I turned to him now, my face pinched with mock-pride.

“You’re sorry? You’re not sorry, Nash. You wouldn’t have turned up here to brag if you were.” The words came lashing out of me.

His brows rose, and he shook his head. He actually looked upset, and I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t falling for his act.

“Brag? I didn’t come here to brag, Bonnie. I came here to apologize. I wish I didn’t have to do this. I know how hard you’ve worked on the company and your codes,” he said, taking a few steps toward me. I couldn’t take my eyes off those large hands, the ones he was now holding out toward me. His broad chest rippled under his t-shirt, and I could feel myself going weak in my knees.

I stepped away from him, which made him stop, and I edged closer toward the wall. I didn’t want him anywhere near my breathing space. Whatever feelings I had for him in college were long gone now, replaced by rage and fury. His handsome exterior, that casual shaggy charm hid a heart of steel, just like his eyes. Nobody knew it better than I did. His gaze flickered, like he was embarrassed that I had stepped away from him. That I was treating him like a villain. But that’s the thing, I had convinced myself that he was the villain. This wasn’t about my company anymore. It was me against him.

“No apologies needed, Nash. Nobody’s died. I’ll survive. You do what you have to do, I know you’ve been trying to one-up me ever since college; now you have your chance,” I said, standing with a straight back with whatever dignity I still had left in me.

But absolute chaos was occurring inside my head. Because as he stood before me, I was imagining how crazy it would be if Nash took a few long steps forward, pinned me to the wall with his powerful body and took me right there. Focus!

“One-up you? This isn’t a part of our little game, Bonnie. It isn’t college. This deal isn’t personal, just business, and I just wanted you to know that I am sorry,” he said, not smiling anymore. He was still playing Mr. Apologetic. I wasn’t going to fall for it.

Bulldozing smaller businesses was something Preston and Son had been doing for decades. And now Nash Preston had become one of them, too. It had always been his destiny, even though he had tried to portray himself as anti-establishment, a regular hard-working guy in college. The truth was that it was in his blood, and he was just like his father. And I wasn’t about to change my mind about him now.

A surge of confidence took over my body. He might be the winner here, getting to buy my company and prove he was better, but at least I had my independence. At least I wasn’t chained to family duties. At least I got to live my own life and not the one shaped by my daddy.

“Sure. It’s just business. And now, get out of my apartment,” I growled at him.

He didn’t expect me to say that to him, so directly. What had he expected? A red carpet unrolled at his feet, a tray of coffee and bagels on arrival?

He raised up his palms in a show of defense and shrugged. “I was just trying to be polite, touch base before our meeting and clear the air,” he said, stepping away from me.

“There’s the door, Nash,” I snapped, pointing to the front door. He swung his head to look at it, and then back at me again. A flash of sincere remorse appeared in his eyes, but I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. I’d spent too much of my time in college giving him the benefit of the doubt. I had been weak and stupid back then, but not anymore.

“Take it easy,” he said and started walking away. Finally! I could feel my shoulders heaving from the growing tension building up inside me. I wanted to scream. Throw a flower pot at the back of his head. I couldn’t believe that at one point in my life, I had imagined that I was in love with this man. What an asshole he had turned out to be. I couldn’t thank my lucky stars enough.

“It suits you, Bonnie,” he said suddenly, turning to me at the door as he held it open. I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he was talking about. I was still panting noiselessly. Neither did he offer an explanation. It had been five years since I’d last seen him. He was buying my company, and I was supposed to hate him. Yet, I felt so breathless. It would just be easier to hate him if I didn’t still lust after him.

In the next moment, Nash Preston was walking out of my apartment, gently closing the door behind him. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.