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His mouth snaps shut, his amber eyes narrowing. “I thought you could control yourself?”
“This is a business arrangement, right? That’s what you called it.”
“I’m aware of what I called it,” he growls.
“Okay. So do you regularly have sex with business associates? I’m guessing not. So I’ll do what needs to be done when we’re in public to sell the story. But behind closed doors, no sex.”
“Fine,” he barks. “I agree to your terms so long as you hold up your end of the bargain. You have to sell the story, Cora. When I need a smitten wife at my side, you need to be there.”
“Fine.”
“Then be ready in an hour,” he says.
I tighten my towel around my chest. “Where are we going?”
He half-turns on his way out and drawls, “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t get my wife a ring?”
Then he strolls out of my room and into his, his back rippling with power and definition all the way. It’s only when the door between our rooms snaps closed that I blink and break out of the trance.
I turn and drain the tub I just filled.
I need a cold shower instead.
34
IVAN
I look across a sea of glittering diamonds and gold and see my fiancée. That’s what I called her when my family’s long-time personal jeweler asked why I needed the last-minute appointment. The first person beyond the circle of my own family who knows.
“I wanted to let my fiancée hand-select her engagement ring,” I told Kieran. “Whatever she wants, it’s hers. No questions asked.”
At those words, Kieran looked like he wanted to marry me. He’s an incorrigible gossip, too, so I’m sure that the second we’re gone, he’ll take out a billboard saying that the new Pushkin bride is wearing his jewelry.
Which is why I chose him as one of our first stops.
Kieran immediately turned to Cora, peppering her with questions about size and preferences. She gave him a blank stare in return. Overwhelmed by all of this, no doubt.
“I’ll leave you two to browse as I prepare some custom mockups I’ve been saving for a special occasion.” He winked at me and disappeared into his office in the back.
Cora and I have been perusing the display cases ever since. We’re circling each other in tense silence. Every time she tucks her dark hair behind her ear and twists her full lips in concentration, I get rigid.
I can’t seem to decide what I hate more: being close to her or not being close enough.
God, the way she looked standing in that bathroom…
My office had been dark the night we’d met. She kept my suit jacket on, kept the curves and edges of her concealed under wool.
This morning outside of the tub, she was illuminated from every possible angle. I saw the soft swell of her breasts and the curve of her hip. I’ll never scrub the image from my mind. Not that I’d want to. Especially after the way she looked back at me, her green eyes going dark with desire as they trailed over my tattoos.
We’re alike in that way: I also love the allure of something I’m not supposed to have.
“This one,” Cora says suddenly.
I snap my attention up. She’s pointing to a case at the front of the store.
“Not good enough. Pick something further back.”
She glares at me over the glass. “You haven’t even seen it.”
