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“I think he’ll be humiliated,” I said. My voice came out sharper than I intended.

“He’s spent years building this squeaky-clean image.

Having his daughter suddenly appear in tabloids with the country’s most eligible bachelor isn’t going to sit well with him.

Especially given the age difference and the fact that neither of us told him about the stunt.

” I held back my true thoughts about how upset my dad would be when he found out Dominic fathered my twins too, because that wasn’t really a good topic to bring up for optics’ sake.

A beat passed between us. My chest tightened. I hated talking about my father. I hated the way Dominic’s gaze stayed steady, like he was trying to piece together more than I was willing to share.

I looked away first, pretending to focus on the violinist. The song had shifted to something slow, something so sweet it almost felt like a setup.

Movement in the corner of my eye pulled my attention. One of the reporters rose from his chair and adjusted his jacket. He walked straight toward our table with the air of someone who knew exactly what kind of story he wanted, and my blood pressure rose the closer he got.

“Mr. Knight,” the reporter called. He flashed a press badge clipped to his lapel. “Ms. Bennett. Any plans for a ring?”

The question landed hard. I froze, my pulse tripping over itself. My mouth opened, but no words came out. And Dominic waved the man off as he started snapping pictures.

Every part of me wanted to cringe and hide, cover my face, scream at the man to leave me alone.

But despite the creep of heat up my neck, I smiled at the camera as Dominic stood and ushered the man away.

The waiter arrived with our meals, setting down two artfully plated dishes and refilling our wineglasses without a word.

Dinner passed in a blur of forced conversation and delicate bites I didn’t really taste.

We ate slowly, surrounded by too many eyes, our words carefully measured between sips of wine and low remarks about campaign optics and regional rollout strategies.

His gaze lingered often, but neither of us touched the subject that hung between us like smoke.

When the plates were cleared, Dominic rose from his seat, stepped behind my chair, and leaned over me a little closer than I felt comfortable with. “Ready?” he asked.

I nodded and stood. He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me toward the exit. Flashbulbs popped again as we stepped through the doors and into the night air. He stayed silent the entire way to the curb. When we reached the limo, he opened the door for me without a word.

We slid into the limo and settled into the leather seats.

The city lights blurred through the tinted windows as the driver pulled away from the curb.

Inside, the space felt even tighter because neither of us spoke at first. For a few moments, I stared out the window, willing the streetlights to distract me.

Then Dominic shifted beside me. “Why do you always do that?” he asked. His tone was quiet, but I could feel the charge under it.

I glanced at him, cautious. “Do what?”

“Pull away. Pretend you don’t feel anything.”

I scoffed lightly and looked back out the window. “Because it’s easier.”

He didn’t let it go. “Easier than what? Being honest?” He leaned closer and I noticed how his fingers were inches from mine, splayed on the leather bench seat between us.

I flinched at his question. Not because it wasn’t fair, but because it was.

I turned my face toward the window. “I pull away because I’m afraid,” I said.

“Not of you—of what it means if I don’t.

” I really didn’t want to have this conversation with him right now, while trapped in the back of a limo with him.

He didn’t speak right away. I could feel him watching me. “Afraid of what, exactly?” he asked.

“Of my father,” I said. “Of what he’ll do when he finds out. You’re his best friend, Dominic. This job is supposed to help build my career, not—” I stopped myself. I had said too much already.

“Not what?” he said, almost indignantly. “You think it’s because I’m older? Age is just a number, Savannah.”

“Not to him,” I fumbled, realizing that my father was actually a pretty reasonable man. If Dominic and I were really in love and spoke with him about it first, I could see him being upset but accepting. This, however, was a stunt he would balk at.

And I could feel the words bubbling up, the ones I’d held back for years.

But I couldn’t tell him the truth about Leo and Cal, and that was what I was choking back.

I tried to make this about Dad’s reaction, but deep down, it was sheer terror that the man seated next to me would react so explosively I’d never find all the pieces of my heart to put myself back together again when he learned the truth.

“Van—”

“Getting close to you means everything falls apart,” I said instead. “And I’m not ready to let that happen.” I bit back tears—literally—my lip felt like I’d drawn blood.

His expression shifted, but I looked away before I could read it. I stared out the window again and held down the truth sitting on my tongue like a stone. If he knew, everything would change—and not just for me.

“This was supposed to be fake,” I muttered. “A strategy or therapy or rekindling a spark we had years ago.”

Dominic leaned in, his voice lower now. “Maybe I’m tired of being alone.” He shrugged and I felt him take my hand. “So we had some fling one night years ago; I know that doesn’t mean I own you, but I’m not willing to give up what I think may be a good thing, Van.”

I looked at him, and something about the way his eyes searched mine made the space between us shrink. The car turned a corner, which had me lurching closer to him. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off my shoulder. My breath caught.

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he said.

His hand slid behind my neck and drew me toward him with a steady pull.

I should’ve stopped him. Every rational part of me screamed to push him back, to remind myself of everything I had to lose.

But I didn’t want to. His mouth met mine before I could speak, and the kiss burned through every ounce of resistance I’d been clinging to.

I kissed him back.

It wasn’t strategic or soft—it was hungry and sure and absolutely scorching. I wanted him in a way that made no sense given everything at stake. I was torn between giving in to the woman who still wanted to be wanted, and the mother who knew what this would cost if the truth ever came out.

I should have pulled away.

But I didn’t.

Because for one stolen second, I wanted to be the woman he saw in me.

Dominic’s hand slid down my back, fingers fumbling with the zipper of my dress.

Heat pooled between my thighs as I arched into him, our lips still entwined in a feverish dance.

His hunger was tangible, his breath ragged against my ear as he growled, “God, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

The limo jerked to a stop at a red light, jolting us momentarily from our haze. Dominic pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. “We can stop,” he panted, though the way his eyes devoured me belied his words. “I don’t want to pressure you…”

“No,” I breathed, the rebel within me taking over. “I—I want you.” The words were barely a whisper, but they hung in the air between us.

I knew the risk, counted the cost, and made a calculated decision to hike up the hem of my dress and crawl over top of him anyway.

It wasn’t his billions, or the fact that he could open doors for me in my career.

And it definitely wasn’t because he was already the father of my children—that much was sure.

I wanted Dominic Knight because he saw me. Me—a lonely, desperate, single mom who just wanted something in life to go right and for things to get easier for a change. I wanted my heart to feel cherished and cared for, and I wanted him to be the one to do it.

So when he gripped my hips and pulled my body down hard onto his lap, I obeyed him like a soldier trained for battle.

“God, this is so wrong,” I muttered against his mouth.

“Who cares,” he breathed, “when it feels so right?”

His lips found my neck, trailing a line of fire along my collarbone as his hand slid up my thigh.

My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic drumbeat that drowned out all rational thought.

This was insane; I had a secret so big it would destroy him, for God’s sake, but the heady mix of adrenaline and desire coursing through my veins overrode any semblance of reason.

I wanted this—wanted him—more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

Dominic’s hand skimmed underneath my dress, his fingers seeking out the lace of my panties.

A moan escaped my lips before I could stifle it.

He hooked his fingers in the delicate fabric, and with one swift motion, he tore them apart.

I gasped, both with surprise and desire as he exposed me to his eyes.

His hand delved lower, his fingers seeking out the center of my heat, and when he found it, I arched my back and moaned.

“You’re so wet,” he growled, his voice raw with lust.

“Yes,” I breathed. “God yes, I want you.”

His thumb started to circle my clit as his other hand fumbled with his pants, unzipping them just enough to free himself.

He was hard against my thigh, hot and throbbing with need.

Our heavy breathing filled the limo as he guided me to rise and lower down onto him, our bodies coming together in a desperate union.

The limousine jolted forward as the light changed, and we both moaned in unison as Dominic thrust upward, sheathing himself inside me completely.

His hands gripped my hips, steadying us both as our bodies rocked together in a primal rhythm.

I could feel every inch of him, all of my senses heightened by how forbidden this felt.

“Van,” he groaned, his eyes locked on mine. The passion in his gaze made my heart clench, and for a brief moment, I let myself believe that this could be real. That we could be real.

“Dominic,” I whimpered, my nails digging into the back of his neck as the pleasure built within me. My lips crushed against his again, and I whimpered when he bottomed out at the same time the car hit a pothole.

The sex was feverish and intense, our bodies practically searing the leather upholstery of the limousine.

Dominic’s hips slammed against mine in a relentless rhythm; his grip on my hips was bruising but exhilarating at the same time.

My nails raked down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as I arched my back and met each thrust with equal fervor.

“God, Van,” he growled into my neck, “You’re incredible.” His words were hot against my neck, reigniting the flame of hunger that lingered in my chest.

“Christ,” I breathed. I rose and fell on him, and my walls clenched around him. “Dominic,” I gasped, my voice hoarse with pleasure as he angled his hips just so, hitting the spot that always sent me over the edge. “Oh God…I’m…I’m…”

“That’s it, Van,” he growled in my ear, his grip on my hips tightening as he bit my neck.

The pleasure built inside me, coiling tighter and tighter, until I couldn’t take it any longer.

I arched my back and whimpered, “Dom…” as my orgasm crashed over me.

I clawed my nails into the leather headrest behind him to avoid leaving marks on him.

Dominic grunted and held me even tighter, his hips jerking sporadically as he joined me in the blissful oblivion.

For a moment, time stood still. The world outside the limo faded away, and my body shuddered around him.

Sweat-soaked and breathing heavily, we remained entangled as our heartbeats slowed to a more manageable pace.

The limo continued to weave its way through the city streets, oblivious to the storm that had just raged inside me, but when his lips caught mine again, it was more intense than the orgasm he just gave me.

“Van,” he whispered…“I don’t want to fake date you…”

I sighed and rested my forehead on his. “I…” My heart physically hurt. I didn’t want to fake date him either, but the bomb had been set with a remote detonation switch and it was strapped to his chest, and he didn’t even see it. “I can’t,” I breathed finally, but that’s all I could manage.

He kissed me again, despite me trying to pull away. The sex was incredible and while the rest of the world saw him as a playboy and a joke, I knew the real man. His heart was more amazing than what his dick could do to me.

But the fuse was too short.

My heart too fragile.

I slid off his lap and felt him drain from me as he fixed his pants. We were less than a block away from my apartment as I fixed my skirt and tried not to cry.

As the limo pulled up to my building, I leaned into him one last time and pressed my lips to his neck. But before I could speak, I caught a glimpse through the tinted window—a small figure darting up the sidewalk in a striped hoodie, hand in hand with another.

My blood froze.

It was Thea and the boys.

She crossed the front courtyard from the movie theater two blocks down, laughing with Leo and Cal trailing beside her, each holding the last of their popcorn. My stomach flipped. I yanked back from Dominic, panicked.

“What is it?” he asked, breath still uneven.

“I need to go,” I said, fumbling for the door handle before the driver could even get out.

The car hadn’t come to a full stop, but I pushed the door open anyway and stepped out fast. The heels I wore caught the edge of the curb and I almost took a nosedive, but I steadied myself and glanced toward the opposite entrance of the building.

I prayed Dominic hadn’t seen them. I prayed harder that he didn’t look twice.

Thea hadn’t spotted me yet. She was talking animatedly with Leo tugging on her sleeve while Cal skipped ahead.

I kept my head down, heart pounding. If Dominic stepped out now, if he glanced even once in their direction, he’d see it. The same eyes. The same chin. The resemblance was undeniable in the right light. I couldn’t let that happen. Not like this—not tonight.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said quickly, not waiting for a response as I slammed the door and disappeared around the corner and into the service entrance before anyone could call after me.