"To meet with Richard Francis and the CulinaryVision board. The acquisition is hanging by a thread after his arrest. I need to convince them I can still close this deal."
"How long will you be gone?"
"Overnight. Back Thursday evening." I lean forward slightly, my voice dropping. "And you're coming with me."
She blinks. "I am?"
"Yes, you am.”
"That sounded like a statement, not a question."
"That's because it was."
"Victor, you can't just?—"
"I can. And I am." I slide my hand from her waist to her hip, my thumb brushing against the bare skin where her sweater has ridden up. "The board needs to see stability. A CEO who honors his commitments. Who brings his wife to important meetings."
"The fake wife you're planning to divorce by year’s end.”
"The wife who's helping me save a hundred-million-dollar acquisition." I tilt her chin up with my free hand, forcing her to meet my eyes. "I need you there, Harper."
"For the optics."
"For more than that."
"What does that mean?"
This is the moment, the point where I can retreat back into my CEO bubble, keep this arrangement exactly what it was supposed to be.
But I'm done pretending.
"It means," I say slowly, deliberately, "that when I'm with you, I don't feel like the Ice Prince everyone thinks I am. It means I'm tired of fighting this. Whatever this is between us."
My hand slides higher on her waist, and she shivers. "It means I want you in Vegas with me. Not for the board. Not for Rachel's strategic plan. For me."
Harper is staring at me, her pink lips parted, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"That's a lot," she whispers.
"I know."
"We're supposed to be keeping this professional."
"We failed at that the moment I kissed you in that dressing room.”
"This complicates everything."
"It does." I lean closer, my mouth hovering just above hers. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop. Tell me you want to keep pretending there's nothing here, and I'll back off."
She doesn't say anything.
"Harper." My voice comes out gritty, each syllable sandpaper as it leaves my mouth. "I need to hear you say it."
"I can't," she breathes.
"Can't what?"
"Can't tell you I don't want this." Her hands come up to my chest, fisting in my shirt. "Can't pretend there's nothing here when you look at me like that."
