Page 47 of The Contract Marriage

“Rude? Rude? I’m being factual,” Czarina says. “Does she deserve my respect? Of course not. If she did, you would’ve brought her to me, introduced her like a proper fiancée. Even Rhys brought Max to meet the family before he married her.”

“You mean the dinner where she was insulted?” By you isn’t said, but it’s obvious from his bland expression and raised eyebrow.

“No one was insulted. It’s simply that her background was rather subpar.”

“Well, I married a Whitmore.” Liam says it as though that explains everything. And maybe it does. A woman nicknamed Czarina must have certain expectations.

She pauses for a beat.

I open my mouth, ready to tell her who I am since she probably doesn’t know all the old-money families in Los Angeles. Not that I care much about my pedigree, but anything to get this woman off Liam’s back—

“Olivia Whitmore Desmond,” she says.

“Yes,” Liam says.

“Well. I suppose you’ve done better than your brother. Even if that other girl did bid a billion dollars for him.”

Liam rolls his eyes.

But the woman isn’t done. “So what precisely is wrong with this particular Whitmore that your marriage had to be hidden?”

“Might’ve been me who’s the problem,” he says.

“Ridiculous. You’re a Kingswood. And still practically a baby. Has to be that woman.”

If Liam were a cat, the fur on his back would be standing. I run a soothing hand over him.

She continues, “You’ll bring her to meet me and your grandfather tomorrow at the mansion, of course.”

“I have to work, Grandmother.”

“Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before marrying some…person.”

Liam’s jaw tightens. He opens his mouth, but the line’s already gone dead.

“Do you think she’ll consider me high-class enough?” I ask, half-teasing, half-gauging his reaction.

“Does it matter what she thinks?” Liam asks.

“Shouldn’t it? She’s your grandmother.” I don’t care that much about her opinion of me, but he has to deal with her long after I’m gone.

“Yes, but you’re my wife.”

The firm declaration leaves me unable to respond. He dips his head and slants his mouth over mine. I part my lips to let him in, stroking his tongue, then sucking on it. A low groan vibrates in his chest as he pulls me close.

Fire burns in my belly, heats my blood. A suddenly surging libido leaves me breathless. When did I become so responsive to male need? Men are just necessary distractions in life, but with Liam, it’s more than that—he occupies a big space in my heart.

A languid fever spreads over me, and I slowly fall back on the bed. He shifts, pinning me just like he did last night. I push my fingers into his hair and deepen the kiss. His impatient fingers run down my dress, searching for the zipper.

I arch my spine and push my hand behind my back. His hand joins mine, and I flip over, so we can tug it down together.

My dress parts, and the cool evening breeze tickles my bared back. “No bra again.”

“No.”

He pulls the dress all the way down. I shiver when the silky fabric glides over my bare ass.

An audible inhale. “And no thong this time.”