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God, I hated him.
Thoughtfully, he chewed and swallowed. “Your changes are minimal. The major changes appear to be a requirement to revisit and renew the contract after one year. That is fine with me. And you wish for the medical clause to go into effect immediately upon signing.” For a long moment, he regarded me, then signaled a passing waiter who snapped to attention.
“May I borrow a pen?” he asked.
The blood drained from my face. Surely he didn't mean to...?
But he did. The waiter whipped a ballpoint pen from his pocket, and right in front of me Anton Waters initialed and signed each clause and page, and then signed and dated it.
He pushed it across the table.
I stared at it.
It stared back at me.
I willed it to go away.
It didn't.
I reached out and drained my glass of wine.
“Are you not prepared to sign today?” Waters asked.
I swallowed. “I...” My thoughts ricocheted inside my head. All it would take was a flourish of a cheap Bic ballpoint and my life would change. I would be bound to marry this man that I didn't even know, my father would be back in business, and my mother would be in chemo.
The world darkened at the edges of my vision. I tried to take a deep breath, but it seemed like something heavy had settled on my chest.
“Miss Dare?”
A movement across from me caught my attention. Waters had risen from his seat.
I didn't know how to react, but then I felt the booth dip and he slid in next to me, looping an arm around my shoulders, shielding me from the rest of the dining room.
God, he felt good, warm and strong. If circumstances had been different, and if he had been less of a douche, I might have enjoyed the intimacy. I might have been able to lean into him and taken comfort from his strength. I might have been able to wholeheartedly let him take my burdens from me.
But all it did was make me skittish. My pulse picked up the pace.
"Let's not pretend," he said. Reaching out, he poured me another glass of wine. "You need me, and I want you."
"You don't want me," I said. "You want a woman who needs you."
"To me, those are one and the same at the moment." He lifted the wine and brought it toward me, urging me to drink. I took the glass from his hand and set it on the table.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head. "I like to watch you fight it," he said. "Just like I liked watching you finger yourself in my elevator while you thought of me."
Security cameras. Of course.
Mortification swept over me. I stiffened and he leaned in. His lips brushed over my ear. "You are beautiful when you abandon yourself."
"Don't feel so smug," I snapped, even as he moved his lips to the spot just below my earlobe. "I haven't gotten laid in six mo—ooh..."
Anton Waters pressed his hot, soft mouth against my hammering pulse.
I melted under him, my body dissolving into shivers. Panting, I put my hands on the table, gripping the table cloth tightly as I struggled to keep myself from touching him back. My fingers itched to feel him. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting him.
"Our marriage would be mutually beneficial,” he said, breath ghosting over my skin. “I think you might even enjoy it."
No, no, no, no, no... "No one would enjoy being forced into sex for money,” I ground out.
