He smirks. He knows I’m lying.
My cheeks burn like lava. I hate how he affects my body—and I still want his fingers all over me.
I step back, putting some distance between us. The tension is so thick I can cut it with a knife.
He leans against the dark walls, sliding his fingers into his pockets. Elegance drips from him like water.
“Are you hungry? The chef made dinner.”
My jaw tightens slightly, and my chest expands, but I keep my composure. If I make him think I’m going out on a date, he’ll set me free. I can scare him off—show him I don’t want him anymore. I face the lit fireplace, turning my back to him.
“No. I’m going out, actually,” I mention casually.
I hear his footsteps behind me.
“Where are you going?”
A shiver slithers down my spine.
“Out.”
I dash out of the library and into the bedroom.
I head straight to the walk-in closet and settle on a long gray gown. If this plan is going to work, I have to play it cool. Don’t break character. I remove my clothes, toss them on the floor, not caring that Irvin’s predatory eyes are on me.
When I turn around, I fumble with my ankle boots, stride to the lavish open bathroom, and poise on the vanity to contour my face with makeup.
Irvin follows me in.
“Where are you going all dressed up?”
I meet his eyes in the wall-mounted mirror.
I feel guilty for what I’m about to say.
I clear my throat. “I-I, uh… have a date,” I lie.
His eyes track me slowly. His brow wrinkles.
“A date?” His tone is sharp like glass.
I square my shoulders, running a comb through my hair.
“Yes. In case you missed the memo, our relationship isn’t real. You tricked me into this marriage, so our marriage is open. I can fuck and date whomever I want—and so can you.”
I don’t like the thought of him with someone else, but I shake my head, dismissing it. That’s a ludicrous thought.
“Lilac.” My name sounds like a warning.
“Don’t wait up for me.”
My smile is smug as I move past him. I grab the key from the hook and his credit card from his wallet and head outside to his white Mustang. He wants to steal my freedom? I’ll steal his money and car.
At the elegant restaurant, I order butternut squash soup. Classical music hums in the background. The lights are dim, and I exhale loudly. My shoulders relax. I didn’t know how suffocating the mansion was until I left.
I eat in peace while reading on my phone, picking up where I left off at the mansion.
I love the way he looked when I walked out—the rage simmering in his beautiful eyes. For once, I have all the power, making him feel as angry as he makes me.
