He loops an arm around my waist, pulls me close once more except this time I’m facing him and I can see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes, smell the spicy wood scent of his aftershave.
“We’re playing a part, Seraphina. Remember that.” He lowers his head, stopping just before his lips brush mine. I keep my feet planted on the ground even as my baser needs urge me to close the distance and kiss him again. “Remember all the people we’re helping.”
I gaze up at him, at this man who gave me an incredible opportunity when I needed a fresh start. A man I’ve worked side by side with for three years.
A man I barely know, but I’m expected to pretend I love.
“Why are we helping all those people? Why New Field?”
Aiden’s brows draw together, but he quickly smooths out his expression, doesn’t even bother to glance and see if Liam is still taking photos.
“Does it really matter?”
I start to answer, but then I shut my mouth and look out over the terrace. I’ve never told him about Brett, about why I volunteer at Grace’s Refuge or what led me to fire dancing. I have no foundation to stand on.
“No.”
I turn back to him and give him a slight smile. Then, slowly, I raise my hand up and lay it on his cheek. His eyes widen a fraction. At least he’s not wholly unaffected, even if I only surprised him.
“Seraphina—”
“All right!” Dylan steps in. “A few more poses, and then questions.”
A few more poses turns into thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of me clinging to Aiden’s arm, gazing lovingly up at his face, holding on to him and looking over his shoulder at the camera as we wind our way through the lower floor of the penthouse. Each pose is more intimate than the last, each one requiring us to touch, hold, embrace. Hands together, cheeks brushing, lips nearly coming together again and again. Inside I feel like I’m about to combust even as I fight the oddness of having someone photograph every move I make.
Aside from that moment when I touched his face, Aiden is composed. He slides into each pose with ease, doesn’t seem to be affected at all. I can’t help but despise him for his control.
Finally, Dylan has us walk back out onto the terrace.
“Last one,” Dylan promises. “Face each other. Mr. Hawke, arms around her waist, hands at the small of her back. Miss Clark, arms loosely looped around his neck and angle your ring toward the camera.”
A wicked thought infiltrates. I try to brush it away, but it’s insistent. Pushy. Petty.
But as I look up into Aiden’s calm, smooth face, I let the thought take over and subtly press my hips against his while I smile at him. His fingers dig into my back as his mask slips and fire lights in his eyes.
Success.
My triumph is short-lived as he grows hard against me. Even through all the layers of fabric I can feel him pressing against my core. I bite down on my lower lip to stop myself from moaning.
“And done.” Dylan chuckles. “With the posed photos anyway. Liam is going to get a couple shots while we sit and chat.”
I drop my arms and step away from Aiden. He’s staring down at me, eyes hard and glittering. My heart is pounding in my throat as I wrench my gaze away. I started it, and dear God, I want to keep going.
For the first time that morning, I’m grateful Dylan and Liam are here to keep me from making a stupid mistake.
“Of course.”
We follow her inside. She seats us in front of the fireplace but with the windows at our backs. Aiden reaches over and grabs my hand, his grip a little tighter this time.
“So.” I can easily picture Dylan rubbing her hands together. “When did this incredible romance start?”
“The office New Year’s Eve party.” I lower my eyes, as if embarrassed, but I’m steadying myself, mentally reviewing the lies we concocted before I open my mouth. “We’ve always respected each other. But that was the night we both realized our feelings were more than professional.”
Dylan tilts her head as her smile morphs from pleasant to slightly mocking. “So you’re telling me you haven’t dated at all in the two and a half years prior?”
“I am.” I hold her gaze. “Aiden has the most integrity of any man I know. He never once crossed the line in the time I’ve worked for him.”
Dylan finally inclines her head to me. “All right. Let’s talk fire dancing then, shall we?”
