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I shake.
With a tilt of his head toward her, he leaves. The door snicks shut.
She turns on me. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"You going all caveman and pretending to be all territorial."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about." I head toward my desk.
"You got jealous when Finn kissed me on my cheek.”
"You must be mistaken." I pull up a document on my computer. The words blur in front of my eyes. I’m too aware of her scent, her presence, the way she walks toward me with that sensuous sway of her hips. She drips sex-appeal, and she has no idea about it. Her innocence— Despite everything I’ve done to her body, she has that innocence about her eyes that draws me in and threatens to engulf me.
It’s why I need to stay focused on this merger. It’s important to keep my eyes on the prize. The ownership of this company. That’s what matters. I manage to bring my attention back to the job at hand when she walks around the table and leans a hip against it.
"You’re going into business with Rick and Finn?"
"It would seem that way, yes."
"As your assistant and your wife, it would be helpful to know what you’re planning."
I hesitate, then nod. "You’re right."
"I am?"
I turn toward her. "It will help you do your job better if you have some idea of what was coming down the line, yes."
She frowns. "Being your wife is not a job."
"But being my fake wife is."
Her frown deepens. "Last night didn’t feel fake to me."
"You mean the passion, and the spontaneous combustion when we come together? Sure, there’s a thread of truth running through it. But that means nothing. You signed a deal. That’s all that exists between us. We’re an arrangement, and don’t forget that."
The light in her eyes fades, and I instantly feel like I’m lower than an earthworm in the food chain, fuck. Then she squares her shoulders, and says, "You haven’t told me about this sports management venture with Rick and Finn."
I search her eyes, but other than the slight dullness, she seems to have gotten a hold of her emotions. Apparently, I’m not the only one who can present a mask to the world.
"I’m buying an ice hockey team."
She blinks. "There’s no ice hockey in England."
"Sure there is. You Americans don’t know, is all. Britain’s men's national ice hockey team won gold at the Olympics and medals at the World Championships in the 1930s.” I turn back to my computer screen and pull up a new page. "Take a look."
She walks toward me to peer over my shoulder. "The London Ice Kings?"
"That’s the team I’m buying."
"And the national league is called the Elite Ice Hockey League?"
"Yep, it’s growing in size every year. There’s global interest in sponsoring teams.”
"And you plan to get in on the action early?"
"Very good."Of course, my wife is clever and bright, and if she’d had the opportunities I've had, she’d have thrived in the corporate world. It’s not too late. She can be your partner, in more ways than one. An asset. Someone in your corner, with your best interests at heart. The only other person I’ve trusted like this is Adam. Is my Little Dove someone who will not be revolted by what happened to me when I was taken captive?
