The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 509

509 Jealousy Sparks

Weston stared down at the fallen model, his coldness almost palpable. “My girlfriend needs no protection from the likes of you.”

Laura’s voice cut through the tension like breaking glass. “Weston, what are you doing?”

She had just finished honoring the evening’s award–winning employees and hurried over, only to find Harvey on the floor and Weston looming above him like a judge passing sentence.

In a quick, graceful motion, she knelt beside Harvey. “Are you hurt? Did Weston do something to you?”

“N–No, not at all,” Harvey muttered, cheeks flaming. “I just… I slipped, that’s all.”

Laura bent down and steadied Harvey as he winced and tried to rise. “Does it hurt where you landed?” Her voice was as gentle as rain on fresh grass. “I’ve got some liniment in the car–old herbal stuff that takes the sting out fast. Give me a second, and I’ll fetch it so you can rub a little on.”

Behind her, a short, ice–cold laugh cracked the air. Weston’s hand shot out, fingers closing around Laura’s forearm. In one violent tug, he dragged her so close she could feel the anger radiating off him. “Laura Wentworth, do I not exist to you?”

Watching her fuss over another man–right before his eyes–felt like broken glass grinding behind his rib cage.

“What are you doing? Let go!” Laura twisted against his grip, shoulders straining.

Her resistance only poured gasoline on the fire already roaring in his chest. Is that pretty–boy model really so important to her? Has she fallen for him?

“So this is your plan, Laura? You want to be with him?” Weston’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “Forget it–it’s never going to happen.”

Laura blinked, utterly lost. What is he even talking about?

Before she could ask, Weston locked his grip and hauled her out of the hall, ignoring the startled eyes that followed them.

“Hey, the event isn’t over. I’m not leaving! Stop pulling me,” she hissed, keeping her voice just above a whisper. The last thing she wanted was to yell and create a scene.

Weston didn’t loosen his hold for an instant. He yanked her all the way down the concrete

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ramp to the underground parking garage, the click of her heels echoing after them.

“Weston, what in the world do you want?” Laura demanded, breath hitching.

He pinned her against the sleek door of his black sedan, one arm a steel bar across her shoulders. “What do I want? No, Laura, what do you want? You brought that pretty boy into your company because partying with him at the club wasn’t enough? Now you want to keep playing during office hours?”

“Pretty boy?” Laura froze for a beat before realizing he meant Harvey.

“Harvey is an employee, nothing more. Show a little respect when you talk about him,” she snapped.

“Respect?” Weston laughed without any warmth. “First, you swear you won’t two–time, and now look at you–claiming both me and that model at the same time!”

“Enough, Weston. Harvey is just a friend. He couldn’t find the right job, so I offered him a position. End of story.” Laura was frustrated.

“You really think I’m buying that?” he asked coldly.

“Believe whatever you want.” Laura’s patience snapped; she refused to explain further. Besides, he’s not even my real boyfriend. Why should I convince him of anything?

Her indifference stoked the blaze in his chest until it roared for air.

Suddenly, Weston flung the rear door open and shoved her inside, heedless of her startled

gasp.

Before she could scramble upright, he climbed in after her, his frame covering hers like a storm cloud blotting out light.

Bang!

The door slammed shut, sealing the two of them inside the car’s dim, leather–scented cocoon.

Pinned against the seat cushions, Laura found both wrists locked in his iron grip.

“If you want to play with men, isn’t one of me enough?” Weston’s words dripped acid. “Tell me, does that pretty boy look better than I do? Is his body that much more tempting?”

With his free hand, he tore the silk tie from his collar, then began popping each shirt button open, one by one, like he meant to prove the point with flesh and heat.

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Laura froze, her eyes widening until the passing street–lights filled them like bursts of white fire.

In the dim rear of the SUV, Weston shrugged off his jacket. Button by button, he loosened his shirt until bronze skin and carved muscle gleamed beneath the tiny ceiling lamps. Incredibly. he caught her wrist and pressed her palm flat against the warm plateau of his abdomen, inviting her to trace the ridged power for herself.

For a stunned heartbeat, she could only wonder if this bold seduction was really coming from the famously restrained Weston Windore.

Weston continued pressing for answers. “Tell me, Laura. What is that little runway toy made of? What does he have that I don’t, to keep your eyes glued to him instead of me?”

“Uh… he’s younger than you,” she blurted before sense could catch up with her tongue.

The words landed like glass splintering. Weston’s expression darkened, shadows swallowing the sharp planes of his face.