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“Ward!” I whimper, mouthing his name on the charged air more than saying it.
“Come for me, damn you,” he growls, pressing his forehead to mine, and winning the war that began the day our destinies crashed together.
White-hot pleasure rips through me, courtesy of the beast who plunges his cock ever deeper, reminding me with every stroke that I’ll be owned long after this night.
Far longer than any contract.
It’s a whole new level of electric I never knew existed.
Every nerve tingles, a fiery echo of the eruption in my core.
I’m convulsing. Floating on air. I think I’m laughing—silently, of course, because I’m so drunk on this climax I can’t make a sound.
This is new. I’ve had sex before but I’ve never floated.
With a guttural snarl, Ward drives into me one more time, plunging his steel length to the hilt. His arms tighten around me and I can feel him swelling.
“Oh, hell—Paige!”
Then comes a wave of fluid heat that sets me off again. He comes hard, ruts harder, and kisses me like he wants to break me when it’s through.
It’s just the right kind of roughness and God I’m in love.
But I love the afterglow, too, when we reluctantly pull apart and his head falls near mine, sharing one big pillow.
He turns with a smile that makes me think I hung the stars, and kisses my cheek like a prom date in his glory after his first dance with a pretty girl.
And for once in my life, I’m her.
I’m worthy.
I’m still reeling when I crack my eyes open the next day, scared the most amazing night of my life was just a dream.
If winding up under Ward Brandt was inevitable, a long road with a dozen nasty detours...then we just made up for it in spades.
Is this real life?
Chiseled gods don’t go for plain artsy nerd-girls. My heart still wants to leap out of my chest and take flight like the hyperactive sparrow it is.
Smiling into the sunbeam splashed across my face, I reach my arm out. It lands on a fluffy mattress and a snatch of tangled sheets.
“Ward?” I turn my head.
I’m still in his bed. Alone.
Well, chiseled gods don’t go for plain art nerd-girls. It was real, it was fun, but it’s not the kind of thing to last.
I find my crumpled dress on the floor, step into it, and pull the corset tight enough so I’m not exposed, then shuffle to the guest suite with what’s left of my dignity.
Crap.
He sits in the game room I have to cross to get to my suite, a soul-rending grin on his face.
“Mornin’, sweetheart. That dress looks even better on you today than it did last night,” he says in this low panther-like purr. It’s still fraught with desire.
“It-it does?” I stammer.
“Technically, it looks better on the ground, but yeah. You’re damn near glowing, Paige.”
Ward, keep it to yourself.
There goes my heart again, but this time it’s bound for orbit.
Leaning against the couch, I rest my hand on the sleek leather and try to keep my gaze focused on my fingers. “So, I was thinking. We have roughly two months left in our contract—”
“Yep,” he says, melting me in his island pools for eyes.
Crap-o-rama.
He’s not going to make this easy.
“But since Winthrope agreed—” I try again, tripping on his gaze.
“Yep. I had the contract sent the second I woke up.”
“Wow, that’s fast. Do you think we should—”
“Yeah,” he cuts me off again, his eyes leaving no doubt whatsoever what he’d like to do. “The fun doesn’t end there just because he bought our little lie. We’ve got to keep up appearances, Paige.”
“We do?” It comes out like the faintest squeak.
Why is he making this so difficult? I was going to give him an easy out, an excuse to put his shields back up, a reason for us to start keeping our distance like sane people.
He’s a careful man.
He can’t possibly want a repeat of last night...right?
But my Warden nods firmly.
“You heard me. Can’t have the guy thinking I’m doing something insane like faking an engagement to a pretty girl just to convince him I’m a decent man.”
I giggle. “Oh, of course. Who would do such a thing?”
He shakes his head, a mock-pained grin on his face. “Leave it to those Brandt boys. So, we’ve got two months, and I’ve done some thinking of my own. I hope you’ll hear me out.”
Like I have any choice. I nod briskly.
He stands, moves behind the couch with me, and pulls me into his arms.
“Paige, we could have a lot of fun with this illusion. Actually, I think we should continue just as we are until the Winthrope hotel’s well into final approval. You open to that?”
I’m nothing but open.
Not when biceps strong enough to hold up the entire world envelope me.
Dammit, Ward, I’ll play your fiancée as long as you’ll have me.
