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I looked up, tensing my jaw. “I will not be made a fool. If I’m expected to be faithful, so will you.”
He moved the tie from my shoulder blade, dipping it down into the slit of my cleavage before moving it back up to my neck. I shuddered, fighting to keep my eyes open.
A pool of wetness gathered in my cotton underwear.
His eyes were dead and serious when he asked, “That’s your one condition?”
“And the notes,” I added as an afterthought. “I know you know about them because you ruined my kiss with Angelo. Do not read my notes. The wooden chest is mine to open, read, and explore whenever I’m ready.”
He looked so blasé, there was no way I could detect whether he tampered with the box or not. And by now, I knew my future husband would never willingly volunteer any information to me.
My future husband.
It was happening.
“I take verbal contracts quite seriously.” He brushed the tie over my cheek, his smile still intact.
“So do I.” I gulped, feeling his hand prying my fingers open.
The shears dropped to the floor beside us, and he squeezed my palm in his, his version of a handshake.
Our hearts were pounding together in a completely different way from when Angelo and I were tangled in the darkened alcove like two messy teenagers fumbling for their first kiss yesterday.
This felt dangerous and feral.
It felt exhilarating, somehow.
Like he could tear me apart, no matter how many shears I arm myself with.
I forced myself to remember that he’d slept with Emily yesterday while being engaged to me. To keep in mind his cruel words when he thought I’d slept with Angelo on the same night I presented my engagement ring to Chicago’s highest society.
He was not my playmate.
He was my monster.
Wolfe picked up our entwined hands and brought them level with my chin. I watched in fascination as his dark, big hand enclosed my ivory, small one.
Little, black hairs peppered each finger above his knuckles, and his arms were veiny, tan, and thick. Yet somehow, our size difference didn’t look ridiculous.
My heart stammered in my chest as Senator Keaton bent his head down, his lips brushing my ear.
“Now clean the mess you’ve created. By evening, you will be given a new laptop connected to WiFi and a Northwestern brochure. By night, you will have your dinner and a snack. And tomorrow morning, after breakfast, you will practice the piano and shop for a dress that will make our guests foam at the mouth. Am I understood?”
He was crystal clear.
But I chose to pull away, bat my eyelashes, and answer him with one of the taunting smirks he was so fond of.
I lacked real power in the situation between us, so sarcasm didn’t cost me a thing, and I found I had it in spades.
I brushed past him and strode away, leaving him alone in his walk-in closet.
“For someone who doesn’t negotiate, you just went pretty far.”
He chuckled behind me, shaking his head.
“I’m going to bury you, Nemesis.”
Chapter
