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“Sorry about that,” I say, hearing the resignation creep into my tone.
He frowns, and for the first time, seems genuinely angry with me. “Platitudes and apologies? From you? No thanks.”
Chapter Nineteen
IVAN
"Just fucking do what you want and get it over with," she flares up.
That’s better. I don’t want a pitiful heroine in a tragedy. I want a fighting, kicking Irish spitfire. Part of me wants to just take her right there and show her that all of her high and mighty protestations are blatant lies. She wants it as much as I do, but she just wants the raw lust hidden behind romantic nonsense, bouquets of red roses, boxes of chocolates, and kisses. She is a pain in the ass, but I will play her little games for now. Eventually, I will lay bare her hypocrisy. I will show her the torrent of lust raging deep inside me and her. I don’t want to kiss her, I want to fucking devour her.
A kiss she wants. A kiss she will get.
My hand curves around the back of her tiny waist as I swoop down on her mouth. Softly... because she wants romance. But as I register the taste of her, a frisson of pure desire, like a bolt of electricity, runs through my whole body. The intensity shocks me. I freeze and pull away, but as I do, I see the same shockmirrored in her eyes, I understand that whatever this is, it’s one hundred percent mutual.
For a few seconds, neither of us moves. Strange thoughts enter my mind. It’s just a kiss. She’s beautiful. Her father is outside. She has been baking. I can smell vanilla. This place is too dirty for her. Then my brain short circuits… and I wrap my arms around her body and crush it against mine. Her soft warmth seeps into me.
I kiss her again, truly kiss her. Tasting her lips, sucking on them.
She is sweet… so fucking sweet it makes me feel lightheaded. I slide my tongue against hers, and her tongue begins a delicate and sensual dance with mine. I can feel my excitement building, so I keep going, hooking her tongue and pulling it into my mouth, sucking hard, taking what I want.
She pulls away suddenly, gasping for air, her eyes enormous, her pupils dilated.
I straighten my jacket. I didn’t expect the chemistry between us to last even a month, but I can confirm now that I might have been wrong. Something about her is different...
Her hand closes around my wrist. “I’m ready now.”
I shake my head. “Not here.”
“What’s the deal? What will be expected of me?”
“Available whenever I need you. Attend social functions with me. Leave the country at a moment’s notice.”
“For one month?”
I nod.
“Okay. We have a deal.”
"Good. A contract will be sent to you. You can discuss whatever you need to with my lawyer or request clarifications."
"So you pay off his debts… and still buy the house?"
"Where has all your shame gone?" I mock.
She has the grace to look shamefaced.
"I never go back on my word. Yes, I will buy the house, but all your father’s debts will be only covered if the deeds for the house, car, and business are transferred to your name.”
She frowns. “Why is that a stipulation?”
“You have one chance to make sure he never loses the roof over his head again. I’d take it if I were you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“And if you truly impress me, I may even throw in the two hundred and fifty thousand your father lost to me. You have an hour to consider my proposal," I tell her.
"What?" she asks, eyes widening. "Why can’t the contract start tomorrow."