The conversations rolled on, and I felt more and more like a spectator in my own life. It was as if Christian had taken control of everything, conducting an orchestra where I was nothing more than a flat note.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he announced that he had to go.
“I’ve got some meetings early tomorrow,” he explained, sounding genuinely disappointed to have to leave. “But I’ll be back on Tuesday to pick Zoey up for the trip.”
I walked him to the door, strangely relieved that we finally had a moment alone again.
On the way to his car that was a sleek silver Mercedes that looked wildly out of place on my modest street, he stayed quiet. I could feel the tension in the air, the weight of the lies we had just spun.
“They believed it,” he finally said as we reached the car.
“Yeah, they did,” I agreed, crossing my arms. “My mom’s probably already planning the wedding in her head.”
Christian smiled, but there was something different in his eyes. Something I couldn’t quite read.
“Your family’s good, Zoey.”
“Yeah. They are.”
He unlocked the car, but before sliding inside, he paused and turned to face me.
“Something wrong?”
I drew a deep breath, the weight of the ring on my finger impossible to ignore.
“Actually… I forgot to mention another condition.”
That flicker of genuine curiosity lit up his eyes again.
“And what would that be?”
I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage I could find.
“Sex is not included in the deal.”
For a moment, Christian actually looked surprised. His eyes widened slightly, and the mask of unshakable confidence slipped. But then, just as quickly, it was back-the seductive smile I knew far too well curving his lips.
“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning in ever so slightly. Just enough to let me feel his heat without him even touching me. “Because I remember very well the way you moaned my name last time.”
My face went up in flames, shame devouring me from the inside. Images of that night in the pool flooded my mind without permission. The warm water around us, his fingers mapping paths across my skin, the way his body had fit against mine so perfectly.
“I didn’t even know that was your real name!” I protested, crossing my arms like that could protect me from both the memories and his presence.
“Now you do,” he said, his voice dropping a full octave-deep, rich, and designed to send shivers down my spine.
I had to stand my ground. This was a business arrangement. Nothing more. It didn’t matter that my body remembered exactly what it felt like to be with him. It didn’t matter that, for one night, I’d felt more alive than I had in years.
“It changes nothing. No sex.”
Christian shrugged, as if my condition didn’t bother him in the slightest. Somehow, that irritated me even more.
“Fine. I don’t need a deal to sleep with you.’
“What?”
His gaze traveled over me slowly, like he could see straight through the fabric of my clothes. Like he was memorizing every curve, every detail.
“You’ll come looking for me when you’re desperate for my hands.” His fingers raked casually through his hair. It was a gesture that had no right to look as sensual as it did. “Or my tongue. Or the things I do when I’m between your legs.”
. I swallowed hard, battling the images he was deliberately planting in my head. Damn him! He knew exactly what he was doing.
“That’s never going to happen,” I said. But my voice didn’t have nearly the conviction I wanted.
The crescent moon cast shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the shape of his lips that I knew too well. A car drove past, headlights flashing briefly over him, and in that moment, I saw it: that glint of challenge in his eyes.
But he was already too close. Close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough for the scent of his cologne to invade my senses. Close enough for me to realize I was holding my breath.
My eyes betrayed me, dropping to his mouth, remembering exactly what it felt like to have those lips on mine, on my skin, everywhere.
“And no kissing either,” I blurted quickly, stepping back, desperate to put space between us before my willpower dissolved completely.
That caught him off guard. His brows shot up, and for once, he looked genuinely confused.
“Kissing? Impossible.”
“Why?”
“I can’t have a fiancée I don’t kiss in front of people.” He shook his head, incredulous. The movement sent a strand of hair falling across his forehead, and I had to fight the ridiculous urge to brush it away. “That would look way too strange. It would raise suspicions.”
I bit my lip, knowing he was right. A newly engaged couple that doesn’t kiss? No one would believe it. Not my family, not his grandfather, not the people at the event.
“Fine. A peck, or something like that. But no kissing… no real kissing.”
Christian arched an eyebrow, stepping closer again. This time, I didn’t back away. Partly because there was nowhere to go-the car was behind me. And partly because, as much as I hated to admit it, I didn’t want to.
The air between us thickened, heavy with unspoken promises and restrained desire.
“Let me get this straight…” he murmured, his voice now almost a whisper, far too intimate for a business arrangement. “Like this, it’s fine…” He leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against mine in a quick peck.
The touch, brief as it was, sent a rush of heat through my body. Ridiculous, how something so simple could have such an effect.
I nodded, though my body was already betraying my common sense.
“But like this…” Without warning, his hand gripped my waist, pulling me against him. His other hand rose to my face, his thumb stroking my cheek with a tenderness that contrasted with the urgency of his movements.
His mouth claimed mine in a deep, demanding kiss-the kind that makes your legs turn to jelly. The kind that makes you forget your own name. The kind that promised far more than either of us was ready to admit.
My mind screamed at me to pull away, a distant voice reminding me of the conditions I’d just set, of the boundaries he was bulldozing through without hesitation. But my body had other plans. My hands clutched at the lapels of his suit jacket, not to push him back, but to hold on as I surrendered completely.
His tongue traced the curve of my lips before finding mine, and it was like every sensation from that night in the pool came crashing back all at once. His taste, his heat, the way he knew exactly how to touch me, how to kiss me.
A low moan slipped from my throat, and I felt his smile against my lips. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me.
When he finally pulled away, my lips were swollen, my breathing uneven. My hands still gripped his suit like it was a lifeline in a storm.
“But not like this,” he finished, flashing that wicked smile that made my heart stumble.
I lifted trembling fingers to my lips, still tingling from the memory of his kiss. My mind was blank-every sharp comeback I’d prepared wiped clean.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I managed, my voice betraying my fake indignation. Even to my own ears, it didn’t sound very convincing.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.