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She stomped away, leaving the doorway clear for him to enter.
Smart enough to know it was the only invitation he would get, he stepped inside and closed the door.
Instead of going into the living room like he expected, she headed for the kitchen. He trailed after her, looking around with interest when he entered the surprisingly large room.
“I was making myself a sandwich. Do you want one?”
“I never refuse food.” He took a seat at the round table, which had six chairs, and watched her make the sandwiches. Other than asking which condiments he wanted, she remained quiet.
To fill the uncomfortable silence, he started talking. “We had the original post taken down, along with the posts from the accounts that stitched it.”
“That’s good to know.” She slid a plate holding his sandwich in front of him before taking a chair farther away.
“We’re working on finding the original poster so we can make them post an apology video.”
“Whoever it was won’t do that.”
“They won’t,” he agreed. “If they refuse, they’ll be paying legal fees out the ass.”
Taking a bite of his sandwich, he studied her from beneath lowered lashes. Lines of exhaustion marked her face. She seemed withdrawn, and judging by her short replies, she would find an excuse to get rid of him as soon as he finished eating.
“Why didn’t you want me to take you home tonight?”
She looked up from her plate, her gaze sharp. “I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am, but sitting there and watching someone plummet to his death isn’t my idea of entertainment.”
“We’ve been making the Devil’s Jump for years. No one has died yet,” he said reassuringly.
“How many bones have been broken?”
“A few,” he admitted reluctantly.
“More than a few.” She slapped her hand on the table hard enough to rattle the plates. “It’s crazy and reckless. I can’t believe that, as president, you allow those men to endanger themselves, much less that you’re foolish enough to do it yourself.”
Taking another bite of his sandwich, he stared at her expressionlessly. He waited until he had swallowed before speaking in a frost-covered voice.
“Those men you’re concerned about consider that jump about as dangerous as riding a merry-go-round. They aren’t the normal, run-of-the-mill variety of men you’re used to. They’ve lived hard, and they play hard. If I don’t give them an outlet, they’ll search for one themselves—by joining another club or finding something involving much riskier behavior. I’m not denying that some of the brothers have gotten hurt. Bones heal, but there’s no coming back from death.”
Her lips thinned. “Is that what you plan to say to Arden when she has to watch Doom get scraped off that mountainside?”
He burst out laughing. “Making that jump is one of the least dangerous things he does. Doom is the second-worst adrenaline junkie in the club.”
“Who’s the first? You?”
“Hell no. Burn takes first place. He’s the first to stick his neck out for anything involving danger, even the women he chooses. We’re still feeling the aftermath of his breakup. We’re trying to find out if there’s a connection between his ex and the minors who snuck inside the club. They’re going through a nasty divorce.”
Natalia gaped at him. “He’s engaging in risky behavior when he has a child?”
Wizard shrugged. “He has to blow off steam somehow. Taylor is lucky it’s Burn and not one of the other brothers. She moved their kid out of state without his permission. Burn is settling the custody agreement through the courts, driving himself into debt he’ll never recover from while she’s living the high life.”
She rose from the table and carried her plate to the sink. “What would you do if it were you?”
Wizard carefully considered the question, knowing he wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of getting her to marry him if he answered truthfully. Still, he believed in fair warning.
“I wouldn’t have let her leave me. I would have convinced her to stay, at least until the child was old enough to choose who they wanted to live with.”
He didn’t disclose how dirty he would play to make her agree to those terms. He might believe in fair warning, but that didn’t mean he had to give her a nail to drive into his coffin.
He finished his sandwich, then carried his plate to the sink, where Natalia was still standing. Turning toward her, he reached out and tilted her chin up until her eyes met his. She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
