He takes a step closer, breaching the space I thought I still had, and my body reacts before I can control it. Every nerve tightens as I crane my neck to look at him.
“Or me, for that matter,” he murmurs, looking down at me.
My brows dip together in confusion. Use him? The words don’t hit like an accusation. He says them like an invitation—to do just that: use him.
I search his face, trying to find a hint of what he’s thinking, but there’s nothing. His poker face is too good.
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Using you?”
He lifts one shoulder in a slow, deliberate shrug. “This situation is convenient for both of us. Using someone isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” he says. Hisgaze holds mine. “As long as that someone knows they’re being used.”
So it is an invitation to use him? For what? My mind conjures more than a few options, but judging by his look, I don’t think he means any of them.
“Why would someone let themselves be used?” I ask, trying to understand.
“Because an opportunity like this falling into your lap,” he explains softly, “isn’t something you throw away.”
His eyes flick down to my mouth. The glass in my hand suddenly feels too heavy, my limbs growing weak just from the sound of his voice. “This is a story people are ready to believe.”
Wait.
My mind starts to catch up, then race. Wait, wait. Is he…? No. No, he couldn’t be suggesting—
My eyes widen, and his narrow before he slowly nods, clearly seeing the wheels in my head turning.
“She’s finally figuring it out,” he murmurs, and the smirk that follows makes my stomach somersault in the most traitorous way imaginable.
God. I am.
The invitation. The seating arrangement. The glances. I realize it all at once.
It slams into me with sharp clarity and stings.
I blink, take a breath, and try to regain some control over the situation. “Shakespeare couldn’t have written a more romantic proposal.”
He huffs out a quiet, amused breath that’s almost a laugh. “See it for what it is,” he replies. “A mutually beneficial arrangement.”
This wasn’t what I expected. Not this…deal wrapped in seduction.
Part of me recoils. The rest starts calculating. Could this help me? Would being associated with him launch my designs into the stratosphere? The attention? The momentum? I could ride it. I’ve been riding it. And if I stay beside him—if I let people think—
While I’m still spiraling through the pros and cons of branding hell, his voice cuts through the haze. “You saw what five minutes of my time did to your engagement online.” He steps closer. “Imagine what all of it would do.”
He’s too close. I can’t think straight with his scent. That deep, expensive all spice and dark musk and danger—wrapped around me.
And something about him tells me that now that I’ve met him, I won’t be able to forget him. There’s no going back.
So I do the only thing I can. I tilt my chin, find my voice, and wrap it in confidence I don’t fully feel. “And what will you be using me for, Captain?”
His eyes scan mine, then drop to my mouth. They roam slowly, dragging over every inch of my face like he’s cataloguing it, already imagining a hundred different answers, each one more unholy than the last.
His hand lifts to my face, and I suck in a breath, bracing for his touch. The pad of his thumb brushes along my lower lip, feather-light. It’s almost nothing, but it seals the air in my lungs.
He drags his thumb down until it tugs at the soft flesh of my lip, pulling it slightly, like he’s testing how far I’ll let him go.
I suck in a breath as he parts my lips. He commands my body without even trying, without needing to ask.He just takes, and I let him, because everything inside me is chaos.
His answer comes in a deep murmur. “Whatever I want.”
