Page 112 of Temporary Vows

But it has nothing to do with me. It’s all her.

She makes me look good.

Some are even calling us Beauty and the Beast—and they mean it because everyone knows I’m a villain.

Elodie’s lighthearted presence and inner beauty shine through like a constellation of stars.

And fuck, I even had my old man smiling with me again. Haven’t seen him like that since I was a kid. Long before I started disappointing him.

These are all good things.

Everything is going exactly to plan.

Except for her.

Every thought I have still circles back to her. And I feel like I am losing control.

Now I am here, preparing to put my ring on her finger.

The easy way out would be to let Albert give it to her, or even leave it in her room, but neither of those are my style.

This isn’t something I want to delegate.

If she’s going to wear my ring, I’ll be the one putting it on her. After that, distance resumes.

I need to take the reins on the situation. It got out of hand because I dropped my guard and allowed my fucking dick to take over.

Business is business. That is the thing I need to remember.

Vanessa walks into the dining room carrying a tray of pastries. She smiles at me and raises the tray higher.

“You’re not doing my sweet tooth any favors,” I tease with a lighthearted chuckle.

“A little sugar makes everyone’s day so much better.” She sets the tray on the table.

“I can’t argue.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“No.”

“Shout if you need me.”

“Sure.” I give her a curt nod.

She leaves, and hardly a second goes by before I hear Elodie’s voice in the corridor. She’s telling Vanessa good morning.

Moments later, she walks into the room and stops short when she sees me sitting at the table.

I can’t blame her for the reaction. Apart from our little encounter, she’s not used to me being around at this hour. Or at all.

I give her credit for composing herself and plastering on a smile.

“Hi,” she says in a polite tone, resuming her steps.

“Morning.” My gaze drifts over her plaid skirt and camisole. Perfect. She’d have to look like the sexy schoolteacher when I’m trying to keep my distance from her.

She walks up to the table, assessing me as if she’s trying to decide whether my presence is a good thing or not.