Chapter 87

Evelyn turned her face away, her voice barely above a whisper. "Move aside first."

Nathaniel glanced down, noticing how the tips of her ears had turned crimson. Amusement flickered in his stormy gray eyes as he released her. He leaned back against the leather booth, stretching his long legs across the narrow aisle to block her exit.

He slid the property division papers toward her. "Sign it."

Her eyes darted to the document before she shook her head. "No."

"You can have everything listed there."

"I don't want any of it!"

Nathaniel's eyebrows shot up. No one had ever refused his money before. "If you think the amount's insufficient, I can increase it."

Evelyn's lips curled into a mocking smile. "That pocket change means nothing to me. I won't sign unless you hand over your entire fortune."

"You greedy little—" His jaw tightened. "Why would I ever give you everything?"

"Because I saved your life." She tilted her chin up defiantly. "I married you when you were comatose in that hospital bed. My presence is what brought you back. Isn't your life worth your entire empire?"

Nathaniel's mouth formed a thin line. "Preposterous. If that were true, we wouldn't need modern medicine."

Evelyn realized she was dealing with someone far more cunning than anticipated.

Sliding off the table, she straightened her skirt. "Your entire fortune or nothing at all. Do I look like some charity case to you?"

She knew Nathaniel already saw her as a gold-digger. Might as well play the part to perfection. Not that he'd ever agree to her outrageous demand anyway.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Tell me, Evelyn—did you marry me for my money?"

"How dare you!" She pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense. "I was perfectly content before you came along. This was purely an act of kindness to help accumulate your virtue. You should be thanking me for this blessing!"

Nathaniel studied the sharp-tongued woman before him. She had a way with words that both infuriated and intrigued him. "So I should be grateful?" he ground out.

Evelyn reached forward to adjust his crooked tie, her fingers brushing against his throat. "Consider me the necessary evil standing between you and your perfect future marriage. Best accept reality."

She attempted to step over his outstretched legs, but Nathaniel's arm shot out, pulling her off balance. With a gasp, she tumbled into his lap.

Evelyn's skirt rode up as she landed squarely across Nathaniel's thighs. The heat of his body seeped through the thin fabric of her dress. She could feel every defined muscle beneath her—taut, unyielding, pressing intimately against her soft curves. A flush crept up her neck as she struggled to rise.

Her sudden movement caused her forehead to collide sharply with his chin. Pain exploded through her skull as tears sprang to her eyes.

Nathaniel wasn't faring much better. He tasted blood where his teeth had cut into his lip. When Evelyn kept squirming, he gripped her waist firmly, pulling her tighter against him.

"Stop moving," he growled.

The dangerous edge in his voice made Evelyn freeze instantly. She remained motionless in his arms, her rapid heartbeat thundering against his chest.

After the initial shock faded, Evelyn gingerly rubbed her throbbing forehead. "Your chin might as well be made of steel," she muttered. "Nearly cracked my skull open."

Nathaniel leaned back with a wince, his voice rough. "Quiet."

The position grew increasingly uncomfortable—both physically and emotionally. Being this close to Nathaniel, feeling the hard planes of his body beneath hers... it did strange things to her breathing.

"May I leave now?" she asked stiffly.

Nathaniel lowered his hand, revealing an angry bruise forming on his chin. His expression darkened. "You think you can just walk away after this?"

"If you hadn't blocked my path, none of this would've happened. This is entirely your fault, Nathaniel."

"I never realized what a talented debater you are."

"Now you know," she shot back.

Evelyn desperately wanted to escape his embrace. Remaining in this compromising position while trading barbs felt... wrong. The tension between them had shifted into something far more dangerous than mere animosity.