The little black dress I’m wearing drapes perfectly over my body, the deep V in the front showing off my cleavage. The hem falls to mid-thigh, and the sparkling silver heels I plan to wear will make my legs look killer.
Mateo is taking me out tonight, and even though I’m not really feeling it, trying on outfits is getting me in the mood. I’m going to sip a couple of cocktails and watch my bestie flirt his way into some unsuspecting man or woman’s pants, and likely, I’ll be taking a cab home. Alone. At least one of us will be having some fun.
I give myself a once-over in the mirror, debating how to do my makeup. My hair is still wet from the shower, and I’m not sure what to do with that, either. Up or down? Straight or curls? Rubbing some hair oil between my palms, I just start to apply it to my ends when the doorbell rings. Mateo is still in the shower, so I wipe the oil onto a towel and go to the door.
It’s Luka.
I take a step back as his tall body takes up the door frame. He’s perfectly dressed in a black suit and matching dress shirt with a subtle pattern on it, a pale green tie catching the color of his eyes. His hands are in his pockets, his stance nonchalant, as if he’s got all the time in the world and swinging by was a spur-of-the-moment decision.
I swallow hard and clutch the door as his cologne hits me like catnip.
“Hi,” I finally manage. “What are you doing here?”
He’s not looking at me. Not at my face anyway. He’s feasting on my body, working his gaze by increments from my legs to my lips. His hands twitch inside his pockets, and his arms tense as if he’s holding back from reaching for me. Finally, he meets my eyes.
“I may have been a little forward yesterday,” he admits. “It’s no excuse, but I guess I’m still learning how to deal with women in a context outside of the bedroom.”
I put one hand on my hip and open the door wider. “It shows. Come in.”
He wanders into the apartment and I lead him to the living room. He’s on my turf this time—it gives me a sense of power. I gesture for him to sit on the sofa and he does.
“Before you say anything else,” I tell him, “I’ve given it some thought, and you were right—I wasn’t asking for enough. There are a few more things I’d need.”
I sit in a chair across from him, glad to have space between us. There won’t be any accidental touching, any possibility of me letting my guard down again.
“I’m happy to hear your requests,” he says, sounding sincere. “And I apologize our negotiations got off on the wrong foot.”
“Apology accepted,” I say. “So first off, there needs to be mutual respect between us if this is going to work out. We have to act like adults and be considerate of each other’s goals.”
He nods. “Agreed.”
Bolstered by his encouragement, I go on, “If this is going to be a marriage of convenience, it needs to be convenient for both of us.”
He’s watching me intently, but he hasn’t opened his mouth to protest, and I decide to just lay it all out there while I’m on a roll.
“Also, if we’re going to have a physical relationship at all, we have to agree that it will not get in the way of our goals.” I feel my face heating at my boldness, but I push on. “I want my modeling career to have the best possible outcome. You want your image squeaky clean. Nothing can compromise those things.”
I can’t believe I just put the sex clause out there like that, but the truth is, I’m still into him, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be intimate with each other if we’re married. Plus, I know from experience that we’d have an amazing time in bed.
Luka nods, his eyes unfocused as he seems to mull this over. I wish he didn’t have such a poker face right now, though, because I’m dying to know what he thinks of my demands.
Suddenly his head snaps up and he bolts to his feet. I swivel in my chair to see Mateo wandering out of the bathroom, his ripped, muscular body glistening, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips.
“Oh. This is—” I start to say
“Who the fuck are you?” Luka barks at Mateo, completely ignoring me.
“Would you like to find out?” Mateo smiles, completely unperturbed by the verbal aggression and lazily eyeing Luka as if he’s lunch.
I’ve never heard that throaty tone in Luka’s voice before. It’s raw and dark and possessive. My middle clenches even as my panties go suddenly damp. Damn, it’s hot to see him so alpha—but I can’t have him going off on Mateo like this.
“Who’s he?” Luka asks, turning back to me now.
Shit. I can see how this must look to him. My hair isn’t dry yet and I’m not wearing any makeup—it’s obvious I just had a shower, and here’s a man walking around my apartment in a towel. It makes sense Luka would jump to conclusions. Still, I’m surprised he’s acting like a protective alpha—if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s jealous.
It strikes me that I can take advantage of this. Especially since I need every advantage I can get with this guy.
“It’s none of your business who he is,” I snap, being purposefully vague. “This is exactly what I meant about respect. How dare you walk into my home and act like you have any right to decide who gets to be in my life and what I can or can’t do with them. I can’t be married to someone who treats me like that.”
