Page 42 of Poisonous Kiss


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“I…”

“You tested the highest,” Gabriel’s eyes narrow. “Though I’m sure that’s unsurprising to you, given your methods.”

“My methods?”

“Cheating is another word one could use.”

My lips purse. “I didn’t cheat. I just know you.”

“Watch your tone, Ms. Yamaguchi.”

“Am I in the office right now?”

“Thus attired? I would hope not.”

I simmer, wrapping the towel a little tighter around myself.

“I used the tools I had available to win.”

“Which I would find admirable if we were in court, not talking about my life,” Gabriel snaps back.

“It’s a fake marriage, right?”

His jaw ticks. “It’s a real marriage. The relationship it’s based on is, presumably, not.” He sighs. “Ms. Yamaguchi, my team says you’re it.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

He frowns. “That and the free show, apparently.”

My core clenches as his eyes drag over my towel. Then his gaze lifts to the bruises on my neck I’ve been hiding with high collars, and the ones on my cleavage and shoulders I’ve been hiding with concealer.

More bruises from him, I should add.

I shiver when I see the way his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow.

“I hope it goes without saying that your extra-curricular activities?—”

“I’m allowed to have a sex life, Mr. Black.”

“Mr. Black seems a bit formal for your fiancé,” he snarls. “And you know damn well what I mean. If we do this,” he says grimly, pointing at my neck, “that stops. Is that clear, Ms. Yamaguchi?”

“I thought it was fake?—”

“Don’t test me, Fumi,” he rumbles in a low tone that makes my breath suck in sharply. “You and I will announce tomorrow that we are, and have been, dating. There will be press, for which you will be prepped. Then, we’ll get married before my campaign starts.”

“How…” I clear my throat. “What am I supposed to tell people?”

He shrugs. “That we’ve been dating, and keeping it quiet due to?—”

“The negative connotations of me screwing the boss?”

Jesus Christ, my mouth sometimes. I cringe, trying to cover it with an awkward smile.

“I’d suggest not using that exact verbiage,” he growls. “But yes.”

“What about my dad?”

“What about him?”

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