The guilt nearly destroys me.
"Victor, I can’t ask?—“
"I mean it. Whatever you need. Medical bills, specialists, anything." He tilts my chin up. "You're not alone anymore, Harper. You have me."
The words are a knife to the chest.
Because I don't have him. Not really. This is temporary. An arrangement. And the moment he finds out what I've done, it'll be over.
"Thank you," I whisper, because what else can I say?
He studies my face for a long moment, then leans down and kisses me.
It's soft, and gentle—nothing like the demanding kisses from the car.
This is comfort. This is care.
This is everything I don't deserve.
When he pulls back, his steely stare is darker, softer. "Better?"
"Yes."
"Good." He shifts slightly, adjusting me in his lap. "Stay here for the rest of the flight. I like having you close."
"What about work?"
"Work can wait."
"What about boundaries?"
"Fuck boundaries."
I laugh, and he smiles against my hair.
"That's better. I like it when you laugh."
We sit like that for the rest of the flight—me in his lap, his arms around me, both of us pretending this is something it's not.
When Claire announces we're beginning our descent into Vegas, I force myself to move back to my own seat. Victor lets me go reluctantly, his hand trailing down my arm before he releases me completely.
"Harper," he says as I'm buckling my seatbelt. "Whatever you're still hiding from me—and I know you're hiding something—you can tell me. I won't judge you."
My heart stops. "What makes you think I'm hiding something?"
"Because I know what secrecy looks like. I've worn it myself." His eyes hold mine. "When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen."
The plane descends, and I stare out the window at Vegas sprawling below us—glittering and bright and full of bad decisions.
Just like last time.
Except this time, the bad decision isn't getting married.
It's falling for a man I'm going to betray.
My phone buzzes as we land.
I glance at it, and my stomach drops.
