Chapter 63

My nostrils flared with fresh anger. “Are you implying you want to volunteer with me?” I asked incredulously. “I would have asked if you wanted to join me, but you’re hardly ever home. And, Goddess knows, you don’t answer your phone when I call.”

Before he could answer, I let out a mocking laugh. I raked my eyes over his pristine suit and silk tie, gesturing towards him. “But let’s be real, Noah. You would never deign to sully your shoes and get your hands dirty volunteering at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter. We both know you’re only interested now because you don’t want to be upstaged by me.”

In a blink, Noah was on his feet, his broad frame towering over me as he closed the distance. My heart stuttered as his earthy, masculine scent enveloped me, his shadow blotting out the setting sun.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, his voice a low growl, barely a whisper, yet deep enough to rumble through my chest. “Just because you’ve only recently gotten involved because you want to look good for the divorce doesn’t mean you have some moral high ground over me, Hannah.”

I swallowed, fighting to keep my voice steady as I met his icy green eyes. “You’ve never done anything like that, not since we were married, at least. And everyone knows you like keeping up that perfect Alpha image—can’t have the Alpha of Nightcrest getting dirty or disheveled, right?”

As I spoke, I absentmindedly tugged at the silky lapels of his suit jacket—a gesture that, I was learning, made him shudder. He tried to hide it, but I saw the goosebumps rising on his neck.

“No,” I said, pulling him a little closer. “You’re too concerned with your perfect image. You always have been.” I released my grip, stepped back, and felt the hot air between us cool. I let my words trail off, satisfied to see them hit home. A muscle in Noah’s jaw ticked with barely restrained frustration, revealing how deeply they had struck.

“So because I’ve lived up to a certain standard,” he growled, “that means I think I’m too good to help the less fortunate?”

“I didn’t say that, exactly,” I replied, hating the way my pulse raced under his intense scrutiny. “But I can’t recall the last time anyone asked you to volunteer for that sort of thing. Or the last time you offered.”

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Maybe not,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “But that doesn’t give you the right to make me feel like some kind of selfish, lazy ass.”

I shrugged, striving for nonchalance even as that smug look ghosted across Noah’s rugged features and made my heart flip. “Whatever you say. What time should I be ready tomorrow?”

Noah held my gaze for a few moments before giving me a reluctant nod. He turned, shuffling papers on his desk.

“Be ready by nine a.m., sharp,” he said without looking at me. “Or I’m leaving without you.”