She gives me a cursory glance, her eyes stopping to linger on my bare chest before she brushes past me and spins to face me, arms crossed.
“So,” she says tightly. “How to do you propose to pull off this sham of a marriage?”
Brooklyn
Chapter 8
Now that I’m standing in Luka’s penthouse, I’m not entirely sure how to play this. I’d been so sure of myself on the way over, but then he had to answer the door wearing nothing but a pair of clingy sweatpants, flashing that ridiculous six-pack and those broad shoulders I’ve never forgotten. It takes all my willpower to keep my eyes off the obscene bulge of his cock.
His skin is flushed and there’s a light sheen of sweat at his temples, as if he’d just been working out or something. Too bad I hadn’t gotten here earlier.Icould have been his workout.
No, Brooklyn!I made a deal with myself that I wasn’t going to think about sex, or kissing, or Luka naked with me under him. None of that. This is going to be a professional meeting. I know what I want from this visit, and it’s not an orgasm.
I sweep my gaze over his chest, my hands twitchy with the need to trace the dips and lines there. Who am I kidding? An orgasm is exactly what I want.
He runs a hand through his hair. His eyes are lit up as if he’s happy to see me. “Hello to you, too. Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”
“No.” I grip the strap of my purse with both hands and clear my throat. “I just came to talk. I’m…open to discussing your proposition some more.”
“In that case, have a seat while I get you a drink.”
I’m about to decline the drink, but I don’t. I might need something to calm my nerves.
He gestures to the end of the short hall where it opens into his living room. I swallow hard as I enter the room, remembering it from the last time I was here. I can’t indicate that I know anything about this place, though. He obviously doesn’t remember having me over, and I’m not about to burst that bubble.
I take a seat on the edge of the couch. “This is a beautiful place.”
His right brow hitches up and I feel like he’s assessing me. “Thanks.”
“Professionally designed, or is interior decorating one of your talents?”
There’s different artwork on the living room walls than when I was here last, large prints of antique architectural sketches, but they somehow lend a distinctly modern feel. I expect Luka to quip something about his talents resting solely in the bedroom.
“Designer. You would not want to see this place if I was left to my own devices.”
He puts up a finger to indicate he’ll be right back and disappears in the direction of the kitchen. I let out a deep breath and give myself a mental shake. I’m determined to stick to the script in my head. I have questions. We’ll talk about it. Make a plan, and then I’ll decide if an arranged marriage is something I really want to do.
Mateo’s words keep playing in my head. What if this is my only hope of getting a break? I hate having so few options, and like it or not, the most promising one on the horizon is becoming Luka’s wife.
He returns before I get too nervous and hands me a glass of wine. Cracking open a bottle of water for himself, he ignores the open expanse of the massive L-shaped couch and sits beside me, close enough that I get a clear whiff of his sexy male scent mixed with his high-end cologne.
“How did you know where I live?” he asks casually.
I tilt the wine glass to my lips, stalling for time. Shit. I have no idea how to answer that without giving myself away.
He shrugs as I swallow down half the glass. “You must have seen my address on my driver’s license when we were comparing mug shots.”
Relieved, I laugh, hoping I don’t sound as nervous as I think I do. “Yes. I did.”
He shifts a little and my pulse starts to race. “Okay. So let’s talk.”
Well, he just opened the door and there’s no backing out now.Stick to the script. “I’d like to know what your plans are for this whole marriage thing. How would it work, exactly?”
Maybe it’s my imagination because I’m nervous, but he appears way too calm. Like this is something he’s really committed to, not just some whim.
“I hadn’t really thought out all the details to be honest—I was going to work through it on the fly. How about this? You tell me what you’d need to make it work.”
Ah, good. The door is really wide open now. I set my glass on the side table and clasp my hands together. His thigh brushes against mine. My breath hitches and I momentarily forget what I was about to say. Did he move closer to me? Why is it so hot in here?
