Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
I chant repeatedly to resist the urge to lower my gaze to his muscular chest and wide shoulders. Which is hard, since he’s standing at a perfect angle and even sitting on a high stool, I barely reach his neck.
Who even has a body built like a damn brick wall?
It should be illegal. Maybe I should file a petition and do all of us women a service. Especially when it makes it difficult to have a serious conversation. Honestly, I’m not sure how to go on, now that he has said yes to my proposition.
Until yesterday, I was simply focused on convincing him, which seemed like an impossibility since he was so adamant in kicking me out of his life. Worse, I kinda liked the chase.
Tormenting and teasing him…
I felt powerful knowing I could wield such strong emotions from a man as commanding as Dash. The high is like floating on cloud nine.
Hence, I never gave the rest of the plan much thought, like how we’re going to make this work. After today’s lunch, we’ll have to make sure it’s solid if we want to make it believable to my parents.
My mom made her stance very clear and by now, she would have convinced Dad against us. Although I sensed he was adjusting to the idea of Dash and me living a life together, Mom’s rejection threw water all over it. He will scrutinize us while plotting to manipulate me into ending my relationship.
With our mad exit, the ball is in their court because I won’t be calling them.
In my head, I had let myself and my stupid best friends convince me the fake relationship was a slick plan while the only hurdle would be to find a man. Turns out, it’s the least of my problems and was only the tip of the iceberg.
Fuck! Why does everything have to be so complicated in my life?
I peer at Dash under my lashes and wonder if we need a contract or something. A non-disclosure agreement? You know, like in those rom-com movies. Because if I have any chance of surviving him, I need to set boundaries. Rules that keep us—mainly him—from crossing the lines because they are already blurring.
It stirs a low throb between my legs as I imagine us sitting in a dark conference room. Him laying all his deviant demands and seductively asking in a low voice… Do you want to be my whore, kitten?
Fuck! Where did that come from? Stupid sex-starved brain.
I bury the unfiltered and filthy vision and manage to focus on him without blushing and betraying my naughty thoughts as I wait for his answer. It has been burning inside my head and rose to the forefront while my drive over here.
Dash isn’t surprised at my sudden question, rather looks like he was waiting for it. The green in his pupils darkens as he keeps them pinned on me. The full intensity of his attention is so striking and feels like the caress of a wind. You don’t see it but you can feel it.
The piercing gaze steals all the oxygen from my lungs.
It scares and excites me all the same.
See… blurry lines.
“Does it matter, kitten?” he counters with a slight tilt of his head. “I already said yes.”
“It does to me.” My gaze narrows. “You all but threw me out last night.”
“I was a perfect gentleman. I escorted you to your car.” Amusement dances in his sharp eyes and I swear I want to throttle him.
“Again, your definition of ‘gentleman’ is screwed,” I counter before smiling sweetly. “I’ll buy you a new dictionary.”
His lips twitch, causing my heart to stammer, but soon his face becomes intense and serious. I don’t even realize I leaned closer to him until he does the same on the smooth marble between us. I would move back if I knew he wouldn’t take it as if I’m scared.
“There are certain rumors floating around me. I need to change my reputation as a playboy bachelor if I want to continue working with the government. Marrying you puts them all to rest.”
In other words, it’s just another business deal to him.
My shoulders slump in disappointment and I lower my gaze now I know that I’m just a calculative move to clear his name. God! Here I thought he was actually human and had a semblance of good inside him. Maybe this is better. I wouldn’t owe him anything.
“But that’s not why I said yes.”
My head snaps back to his and the darkness staring back at me makes my spine tingle and goosebumps rise on my skin.
“It’s not?” I whisper, my mind racing a mile a minute.
“I said yes because I’m selfish when it comes to you, Bianca. The thought of another man calling you his wife, fake or not, makes me want to end their life. You may never give your heart to me but I won’t let anyone else have it either.”
“Because you want my heart?”
His eyes become playful and lustful as he smirks, “I haven’t decided yet.”
What the hell does that mean? And why does it make my pulse race?
He pulls back and straightens himself while leaving me stunned and staring at the empty space. Meanwhile, he walks out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I don’t follow because I’m still reeling from the effect of his bold statement.
It should be scary, the ease with which he basically conveyed he wants to have his cake and eat it too. Apparently, his possessiveness and domineering attitude knows no bounds. And I invited it with welcoming and open arms.
I’m stuck on the rumors he mentioned when he returns a few minutes later with his suit jacket and vest gone. His forearms flex as he rolls the sleeves and my mouth drools at the veins in his arms and the light dusting of hair. Though he appears relaxed, his hard edge cannot be tamed.
Intense and broody might as well be his middle name. Surprisingly enough, I’ve only seen him smirk or be mischievous with me. Otherwise, he has his carefully practiced cold mask in place.
I don’t want to admit how it makes me feel.
The green flecks in his eyes lighten as they land on mine and he nods toward the drawing room. “Let’s talk.”
Hmm, I might have to do something about his bossy orders if we’re going to be in a pretend marriage. No matter how my pussy betrays me by finding it a turn-on, I won’t put up with it.
Making my way over to the couch where he’s already lounging, I walk past him to sit as far away from him as possible, only to go tumbling down on his lap as he tugs on my arm without any warning.
Circling my waist, he shifts me until I’m sitting with my bent legs on either side of his hips and my hands resting on the couch behind him. The same male satisfaction flitters across his face every time he has his way with me and ends up winning.
I swear my protests have no effect on him whatsoever.
They might as well be invisible.
“You seriously need to stop manhandling me, Dash.” I glare down at him, irritated only half-heartedly with him. Not that I’ll admit it.
His brow arches mockingly as he teases, “Is that any way to talk to your fiancé, kitten?”
“I’m not wearing your ring yet,” I retort, waving my left hand in front of his face.
He catches it in his big one and traces my ring finger, his pupils becoming heated as they travel back to mine. “I’m well aware and I’ll rectify that soon.”
“Wait… you’re not actually going to buy me a ring, are you?” He stares back as if it should be obvious. He can’t be serious about spending money on an engagement for a fake marriage. Knowing him, the expense wouldn’t be cheap. I try pulling back but his hold tightens, so I shake my head. “Uh-uh. No way. I’ll just wear one from my collection.”
“No.”
“You’ll be wasting money.”
“I’m a billionaire, in case you don’t read the newspaper,” he replies with a smug grin. When I open my mouth to argue, he cuts me off. “I’m buying you a diamond ring and it’s final, kitten. If I have to force you to wear it and glue it to your finger, I’ll do it.”
“You’re insane.”
“Only when it comes to you.” As if reading my regretful thoughts he adds, “And too bad you’re stuck with me.” Still holding my hand, he switches the topic. “So how do you want to proceed with the plan? Should I expect a court marriage or a big wedding? When do we announce it? Though I should warn you, it won’t be long before the media catches wind of us.”
I catch only half of what he says, because all I can feel are his muscles flexing beneath me. Hard as steel yet warm and comfortable. They are so fucking distracting and it doesn’t take long for flashbacks to visit me.
I don’t stand a chance of a serious conversation if we stay pressed like this.
“Do I really need to be on your lap while we discuss this?” I complain.
“How else are you going to get used to my touch?”
“I’m plenty familiar with your touch.” My tone is annoyed, to which his grin widens. “More than it’s required in front of my parents, unless you plan to manhandle me in front of them.”
“If the situation calls for it, I might,” he says, making my eyes widen.
“Be serious, Dash.”
He relaxes his back against the plush couch, his fingers gripping the tops of my thighs as he shrugs his big shoulders and confesses, “I like having you close, kitten. Get used to it because it will be happening a lot.”
I cross my arms and lift my chin as I match his bossy tone. “Well, in that case, we need to set some ground rules.”
“Afraid I’m all about breaking rules.” He smirks, his tongue running between his teeth as his predatory gaze lowers to my chest.
I look down to see my breasts pushed together and my nipples poking through the material of my top. With a huff to hide my burning cheeks, I bring my hair forward to cover my body’s arousal to his proximity. His expression screams it’s too late.
“Tell me your rules,” he demands instead of opposing when I don’t budge.
I hold a finger up for each of them. “No bossing me around. No touching me when we’re alone. No more mind games. This arrangement will be strictly business, Dash. If you can’t agree, then I’m walking away.”
Silence stretches once I’m finished laying down my terms and I feel the undercurrent of tension in him, but I hold my stance. As important as this is for me, considering it’s my last resort, I wouldn’t do it unless I’m an equal in this, which means he can’t call all the shots.
If I continue to let him treat me in his domineering and territorial way, lines will get blurry. It will only be a matter of time.
While my heart is safely locked inside the cage, so will be my body. If I allow him to touch me, I’ll become addicted because in two short weeks, I’m already halfway there.
He may act all obsessive and infatuated now but once I’m out of his system, he’ll walk away while leaving me a crumbling mess. I won’t let it happen. Never again.
“Are these rules really important to you?” he finally asks, voice devoid of emotion. I nod anyway and my stomach hollows when with one single move, he picks me up and sets me down beside him.
I’m too stunned to react because he does it so fast. At first, I’m afraid he’s rejecting me and I’ve pushed him too far until he meets my gaze with his steady ones. Something calculative, lurking beneath them.
“Okay. Although I can’t promise to not be demanding, because it goes against my very nature, I will give you a choice in the final say. As for not touching you…” His eyes turn molten as they run over me seductively. “I’ll do it because it won’t be long before I have you begging for it.”
I swallow the nerves because he’s taken my rules as a challenge. Instead of giving me safety, they make me feel anything but. Only Anticipation. Arousal. Thirst.
Still, I somehow manage to mumble, “I won’t beg.”
“You did last night.”
“Last night was a fluke.”
“And you also did seven years ago,” he growls, voice deep and guttural. “And if I were to play with your wet cunt right here, you’ll do it again. It’s the only reason you’re insisting on this stupid rule.”
His words light up my body and it takes all my willpower not to squirm and clench my thighs together to stop the ache. I hate the tremble in my voice when I reply, “Whatever helps you to follow it.”
The smirk on his face widens at the breathlessness and stubbornness in my voice. I take a relaxing breath, assuming he’s done, until he speaks again, “And I have one condition too, kitten.”
My hackles rise because it feels like a trap. Except, I don’t know how I lost or how I’ll pay for it. At least his list isn’t as lengthy as mine, so I hesitantly ask, “What?”
“You will move in with me.”
“But I already have my apartment,” I say dumbly. The whole reason I chose him was to avoid the entire living together situation because he won’t be in the city half the time. He himself said so. Besides, where the hell am I going to move into? He doesn’t even own a place.
Unless he’s planning to shift to mine.
Hell no. I’ve already experienced living with him back when I stayed with Niall. It was torture of the worst kind. And I won’t have anyone to use as a buffer to avoid him.
“This is nonnegotiable.” His tone is firm while his face is calm. “Besides, you’ll only have to shift to the thirtieth floor.”
My jaw drops at the revelation. “You bought an apartment in my building?”
“No. I bought the whole building.” The smile that stretches across his full lips is nothing but devilish. “Like I said, we’ll be living together, no matter what.”
It really hits me at this moment that I’ve made a deal with the devil.
An insane, devious, and sinful devil.
The control I fought for a second ago might as well be an illusion. “When did you do that and how? You might be rich but you can’t make something like this happen so fast.”
“Like I said, I’m persuasive and it also helps that I’m best friends with Justin,” he explains but leaves me more confused. He must sense it because his head tilts in astonishment and he probes, “You do know who he is, don’t you?”
“Um… No.” I frown. “Am I supposed to?”
“Heard of Merchant Properties?” he asks and I nod because, of course I have. They are the biggest real estate dealers and developers in the country. “Justin is the CEO and the son of the founder, kitten.”
“He’s Justin Merchant?” My voice goes high-pitched, making Dash chuckle. “I thought he was a recluse and an antisocial.”
“He prefers the term selectively social and he’s not the recluse the media likes to paint him as. He tends to avoid them and they don’t like it.”
“Wow,” I mutter to myself. To think I had no clue who he was this whole time. I’m still distracted and musing over Justin also being a billionaire when Dash interrupts.
“Do you accept my condition?”
After the initial shock, it’s actually convenient if I think about it, and it only seems fair since he met my demands too. “Yes.”
“Good.” His tone is victorious. “We’ll move together tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
Other than the fact that I’m not prepared to be in such close proximity to him constantly and without barriers. I’ve been alone for years and now I have to share my home with a man I will soon call my husband. My future is turning out to be full of surprises.
“I thought we’d wait until we’re married,” I finally reply, hoping he’ll take the excuse.
“I’m not spending another minute apart from you.” His deep voice is a promise and a warning. “You’re mine now, kitten.”
