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I wrench away, hating myself for my body’s response. “I wouldn’t ask you to demean yourself,” I snap back, stepping around him. “After all, you said it yourself: It’s time we both learned from our mistakes. Because loving you was the biggest mistake I ever made.”
I head for the bathroom and slam the door—but not before I see the anger flash on Nero’s face.
Anger, and something like hurt.
But that’s impossible. A man like him isn’t capable of feelings.
And the longer I remember that, the safer I’ll be.
Dinner passes in a blur.Ian and Fiona are seated at the other end of the big table, unfortunately, so I meet more people and try to keep all the names straight. It’s a collection of financiers, politicos, and society types—the movers and shakers who really run the city behind the scenes. Nero and I are supposed to be an engaged couple, and I don’t think much of that until we’re seated together at the dinner table, and he drapes an arm around my shoulder, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek.
I tense, even though I’m in the middle of a conversation with Dahlia. Then, Nero leans close to my ear and whispers.
“Appearances, Princess. We’re supposed to be in love.”
Love. With the man I loathe to my core.
I force a smile, and snuggle closer to him, forcing a besotted smile. Go ahead and give me an Oscar, because this is the performance of my life, not grabbing the butter knife and stabbing it in his hand when he slowly begins tracing a circle on my bare shoulder.
The room shrinks to just that small point of contact, his touch hypnotic.
Turning me on.
Heat spirals through me. I want to pull away, but I already know, I can’t. So, I just have to sit there through dinner, my body slowly going up in flames as he caresses me casually. Every inch the attentive fiancé.
“More wine, sweetheart?” he asks, brushing hair from my eyes.
“No, thank you,” I reply. “You know what I’m like.”
“I sure do.” Nero chuckles, perfectly at ease, and that stubborn streak in me flares to life.
“Here, taste these berries,” I coo, as dessert is served. “They’re so ripe.”
I pick up a perfect strawberry and bring it up to his lips, feeding him.
He shoots me a warning look, but I ignore it. I
’m not the only one who should suffer at this ruse.
“You always liked sweet things,” I murmur, as I push the strawberry slowly through his lips, my fingertips grazing his mouth. His gaze darkens, flashing with fury, and pressed close against him, I feel his whole body tense as steel.
“See?” I purr. “Delicious.”
I sit back, licking the juice from my fingers. Not breaking his gaze.
The air between us practically crackles with tension, but I refuse to back down and look away first.
He wanted PDA? I’ll give him damn public displays of affection.
“Well!” There’s an awkward laugh, and we both drag our eyes away to see people looking. “Guess who’s in the honeymoon phase!”
“Can you blame me?” Nero says, relaxing back, all smiles again. “I mean, look at her.”
I have to simper and smile, even as lust and rage whirl in a toxic cocktail in my chest. By the time we’ve finished eating, I’m exhausted keeping them both at bay. I manage polite ‘goodnights,’ and wordlessly follow Nero back to our cabin.
The minute the door shuts behind us, his amiable act drops.
“Fuck,” he curses, shoving a hand through his hair. “This whole event is bullshit. All that damn small talk, and I’ve barely said two words with McKenna. You said this would be my chance to get close,” he adds, accusingly.
