Heart's Blood 3- Make Love, Not Money by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Format: epub
Published: 2010-02-13T07:24:51+00:00

Chapter Three

At five minutes to eight on Monday morning, Drake stood in the foyer of his house wondering why he was bothering to wait until the last second when it was obvious Felicia wasn’t going to show.

Tomorrow was their anniversary and she intended for them to spend it apart. Maybe this was her way of ending it. He would have expected her to tell him to his face. After all these years he deserved that much respect.

Furious, he growled, gnashed his fangs and stepped outside. He locked the door and headed for his car.

Then he saw her car turn the corner and his stomach tightened with a strange excitement, rather like how he used to feel before riding into battle. Maybe the sensation wasn’t so strange after all. Lately with Felicia everything had been a battle.

She parked in the driveway and stepped out of the car looking sexy in boots, jeans and a pink sweater that hugged her luscious curves. She’d arranged her chestnut hair in a French braid and carried her gray wool coat over her shoulder.

They approached each other stiffly, almost like strangers. Even when they’d first met there hadn’t been such awkward tension between them.

“You’ve decided to come?” he asked.

“Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”

“No. Not at all.” His gaze swept her again. “You look --”

“Yes?” The slightest smile tugged at her lips.

He shook his head, walked to her car and retrieved her luggage. “Let’s go.”

Taking her lower lip between her teeth in an endearing gesture, she nodded and sat in the passenger seat of his car while he placed her bags in the trunk.

At first they rode in silence, then he said, “I missed you this week.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice I was gone.”

“Damn it, Felicia, do we have to start off like this? Wasn’t almost a week of sulking enough for you?”

“You see, Drake, it’s that attitude that irks me.” She removed an emery board from her purse and began filing her long, French-manicured nails. “You’re so fucking condescending.”

“I’m condescending? Love, you are the Queen of Condescending. You can’t even carry on a conversation without making some kind of sarcastic remark.”

She sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”

He tore his gaze from the road and glanced at her, just to see if she was serious. To his surprise, she appeared to be.

“I don’t want to argue anymore, Drake.” She turned to him. “I’m tired of it.”

“So am I.”

“Why don’t we just be quiet for a while?”

“All right. We’ll have plenty of time to talk on the yacht.”

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