I narrowed my eyes. “You know, if I didn’t like you, you’d be in trouble.”
His whole body shook with laughter. It’d been months since he’d laughed like that. That rich, deep timbre seemed to reach into my heart and tug it every time I heard it. I almost thought I’d never hear it again after what happened.
His eyebrows knitted together as he noticed my expression. “What?”
“It’s been a while since you laughed like that.”
He sobered. “It’s been a while since I felt like myself.”
I sat up and set the bowl of cereal on the coffee table. “Are you still having nightmares?”
“Yeah.” The word was barely audible. “I?—”
It was like my brain and my heart decided at that moment to lock arms and conspire against me. I sprang forward, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I hate that you went through that. I wish there was some way to take it from you.” I wanted to wrap myself around him and keep the darkness at bay. He’d stepped up in ways I could never have imagined. What could I ever do to repay him for all of it?
Slowly, he circled his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, burying his face in my neck. It was sweet and innocent and intimate, all mixed together.
I don’t know how long we sat there like that, but it was incredible. Holding him. Being held by him. It was comfortable and comforting.
Wonderful.
Slowly, he loosened his hold on me, and I leaned back. I quickly realized my second mistake of the night. Being close enough that our breath mingled.
His lips were so close. My heart was hammering against my ribs. I cared about this man. More than cared. I couldn’t and shouldn’t, but I did. He was going to be my husband. My fake husband. And right now, every part of me wished it could be real, even when I knew he needed more than a secretary with a kid. I’d already felt that before I knew he was a billionaire, but now that I did, his world had shifted from a place I didn’t fit to a place I could never belong.
I'll admit, for a moment I just stared at him. This sweet man. He was beautiful with a soul so radiant just being near him made me warm. Quiet and strong. Gentle and protective. Even after being broken by people, he should have been able to trust.
Suddenly, I found myself lifting my hand and combing my fingers through his hair, brushing back the strands from his forehead. I'd imagined this exact moment more times than I wanted to admit, and somehow reality was better.Way better.
Our eyes locked, Papa Smurf ceased to exist, and it was just us.
My fingers traced his lips as his hand cupped my cheek.
We slowly moved toward each other.
Our lips touched, lightly at first. Little kisses. The kind that maps out the lines and curves so our lips know where they’re going. And then it was as if we were a bonfire doused with gasoline. The kisses became more urgent, desperate.
It was as if I could finally satisfy every craving I’d ever had for him. My body crushed against his like even the smallest amount of space was too much.
When the kiss slowed, I could barely catch my breath. My lungs burned, and my lips were tender.
“That was…” He said as his lips slowly made their way along my jaw.
“That was…” I repeated it. What did I say? Incredible? Extraordinary? Spectacular? Give me more?
We’d been through something traumatic together. I was lonely. Stressed. And as far as relief, his kisses were infinitely better than Cookie Crisp cereal.
I also knew something fragile had been created. One wrong word and it’d crumble. Did I want that?
No.
Did I really know what I wanted? Not even a little bit.
I just knew I wanted more of his kisses.
We were getting married. The object was to make people think it was real. What better way than to kiss like that?
He made his way back to my lips, and the match lit again. While the kisses were just as hot as before, they were softer, delicate. Sweet. When they slowed again, he nuzzled my neck with his nose.
