He nods, then adds, “That doesn’t mean things have to change.”
“What do you mean?”Silly heart, please calm down.
“That you don’t have to move out.”
My laughter sounds strange. “I was thinking I’d find myself a place way before then. I might start looking next week. You know, after the big meet.” The big meet that might go so badly that he’ll want to be rid of me, because I have no idea what he thinks I’ll be able to achieve.
“No.” One adamant word, his diction sharp. “That doesn’t suit me. The agreement was three months, and we’re barely one month in.”
“Oliver, I need to pull my life together. I can’t hide out here forever.”
He folds his arms across his chest, staring down at me as though I’m some wayward subordinate who might be cowed by his magnificence. I’m not cowed, but I am appreciative.Which is an issue in itself.
“I have to get on with my life.”
“If you leave before the twelve weeks is up, it’s a breach of contract,” he intones stonily.
“You know a verbal contract isn’t worth the paper it isn’t printed on,” I counter in the opposite tone, all jokey and lighthearted.
“Eve.” He steps closer, his finger under my chin as he brings my gaze to his. “Don’t test me on this.”
I make a derisive noise as I jerk from his hold. My heart shoots into my throat as, like a prizefighter knocked down, I’m on my feet as though my survival depends on it.
“You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” My tone is low and hard. Bo scrambles out from under the table, stepping between us with a low growl. He hunkers down, hackles rising in his fur. “You think you’re the only one who can be a pain in the ass? You think me being here can’t get difficult for you?”
Oliver reaches for the remains of my toast, then Bo is chasing it across the room. My fair-weather friend’s taste for peanut butter makes him a shitty guard dog.
“Don’t tell me. You’re going to withhold sex?”
“Having sex with you would imply I like you.” My eyes glitter over him. “Or at least some part of you.”
“If you need reminding which parts of me you do like, just let me know.”
“I don’t like any part of you.”
“Oh, but you do. Read the documents, darling.” Reaching out, he taps the folder with his index finger.
Wariness skitters down my spine. He’d better not have ...
“No. My application is for a working visa.” Ariana, the immigration lawyer said so. “I checked the paperwork before I signed it.”
“And the supplemental documents? My signed affidavit? Did you happen to see that?”
“What affidavit?”What the hell is he up to now?
“We decided a settled relationship would be an extra layer of solidity to your application. So that’s what we have, you and I. You wouldn’t want to move out before you have your visa and prove that a lie.”
I inhale a deep breath, but I will not resort to cussing him out. “We agreed my visa wouldn’t be dependent on a relationship with you.”
“It isn’t. Not wholly. It’s just an added safeguard. A man of my standing wouldn’t commit visa fraud.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your standing. Take it out. I don’t want it—I don’t want any link to you.”
“How would that look, given it’s already been submitted? A canceled spousal visa followed by a failed relationship. Be sensible, Eve. Think of how it would look.”
I don’t feel sensible. I feel rage filled. I physically vibrate with a deep loathing for his interference, his underhanded manipulation. Why would he force me to stay longer? I just don’t get it. “You are ...” I growl low and hard.
“Yes. I’m all those words running through your head and more. But I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.” He takes his glasses from his pocket, examining them briefly before slipping them on.
