* * *
The click of lenses is what pulls us out of the moment. He rolls with me, sitting up on his knees, gently brushing sand off of me and offering me a hand. I accept, and he pulls me up and in for one more kiss, a playful smile on his lips. “Let’s go to the room,” he says hoarsely, his eyes darkening. “I need you. Now.”
* * *
And we run, sandy flip flops slapping against bare rock, my smile lasting through two elevators, one long ass hallway, and onto the giant bed in our luxurious penthouse suite.
CHAPTER 44
“Another beer?”
* * *
I look up from my plate with a smile. “Yes, thank you.”
* * *
We are in Seafire, a steakhouse in the Atlantis resort, dining on lobster and steak at a table by the window. I can see cameras when I look outside, the collapsed arm of a photographer draped over a large lens, cigarettes glowing in the night as they chat, waiting for us to leave. Every once in a while I find their eyes on me, their lens positioning for a quick shot.
* * *
“Are you having a good time?” Nathan asks, tipping back an ice-cold bottle of Kalik.
* * *
“Considering all we’ve done is have one incredible fuck, yes. Thank you for asking, Mr. Dumont. Excellent trip planning.” I grin, taking a mouthful of conch and settling back in my chair, savoring the buttery taste of perfection.
* * *
“Any qualms about tomorrow?”
* * *
“As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
* * *
His eyebrows rise questioningly. “Yes?”
* * *
“First, I just want to confirm that, upon our separation, you will continue to care for my father.”
* * *
He settles back in his chair. “There is no chance of you continuing in the marriage?”
* * *
I brush off the question with a shrug and a swig of my beer. “I’ll let you know that after this weekend. I need more time to think about that. More time with this …” I gesture with my fork. “…Nathan. I’m not used to him yet.”
* * *
He grins. “Point well taken. I’ll try not to bend you over in front of any strangers while we’re here.”
* * *
I frown, the joke hitting a little close to home, reminding me of my lips on a stranger’s cock—Nathan’s hand sliding up the back of my dress as I sucked. The problem was two-fold. I hated being used, being told what to do, but I had grown wet during the experience, his authoritative instructions incredibly erotic in their commanding tone. I try to refocus, to move my thoughts back to where I am, on my fairytale dream date. “Let’s get back to my dad.”
* * *
He shrugs, cutting into his steak. “You saw the amendment my attorney made. Your father is officially my life-long dependent. I will support any medical expenses while he is sick—once he improves, I will cover his living expenses, up to seven thousand dollars a month.”
* * *
“I just want to make sure that you’re okay with it; I don’t want you to feel forced into anything.”
* * *
“The money you are helping me recover will more than cover it. But thank you for your concern.” He smirks, and it’s the kind that makes me want to yank open his fly and suck his cock right here.
* * *
“There is a second condition,” I say, dipping a piece of bread in olive oil.
* * *
“Yes?” he asks wryly.
* * *
“It involves our sleeping arrangements.”
* * *
The laughter leaves his eyes.
* * *
“If you want me to help you tomorrow, then I want to sleep with you while we are here. Not in the second bedroom of the suite. In your bed.”
* * *
It shouldn’t be an outlandish request. It should be something he agrees to easily, without hesitation, considering the fifty million dollars at stake—a lifetime of wealth. But I can see from his eyes, from his tight jaw and the hesitation with which he speaks, that this is difficult for him.
* * *
“You want to sleep with me,” he repeats. “That's your request?”
* * *
“Yes.”
* * *
“Why?”
* * *
I shrug. “Ever since I moved to Nashville, I’ve felt…” Like a whore. The words sit on the edge of my tongue, only I’m too ashamed to verbalize them. “Disconnected from you. I feel isolated. If I’m going to stay in this marriage, I need to feel some sort of normality in our fake relationship.” I grimace. “At least for a few nights.”
* * *
He nods and the candlelight reflects in the blue of his eyes. “I understand loneliness. I ache for Cecile in a way that hurts. But, I want to make sure that you know—”
* * *
“I got the memo, Nathan,” I interrupt him crossly. “You don’t love me. Aren’t going to love me. I hear it loud and clear. A fucking cuddle session isn’t going to change that.”