Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“I want to apologize,” he said quietly. “For kissing you like that. Without warning, without asking.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry, Raina.”
Hearing my name in that low, rough voice made everything worse. My throat tightened, and I couldn’t form a response.
He’s sorry. Sorry for the best kiss I’d had in years. Sorry for the moment that had set my entire body on fire and made me forget every reason I was supposed to keep my distance. Great.
Simon seemed to take my silence as acceptance. He gave me a short nod, then closed the door with a soft click.
I sat there for a long moment, watching him walk toward his own car, my lips still tingling and my heart aching with something I refused to name.
Then I started my engine and drove away, trying very hard not to think about how thoroughly I’d just complicated my life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Simon
Monday morning arrived with the kind of headache that felt like pressurized fog sitting just behind my eyes. I knew it was from lack of sleep, so even though Raina would make coffee when she arrived, I’d stopped at a café on my way in and downed a double shot of espresso.
The pain in my skull hadn’t budged, but now my heart was pounding like I’d touched a live wire—partly from the caffeine, partly from the anticipation of seeing her again.
I sharpened my focus on my computer screen, scrolling through emails that had accumulated over the weekend. The office was still quiet, Raina not yet having arrived, and I already knew this was going to be a long day.
My exhaustion was the result of two sleepless nights spent staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, thoughts churning in restless circles. I couldn’t stop replaying everything that had happened at the gala—the tension with Chuck, Alexander’s invitation, and most of all, the ruse Raina had invented.
This fake relationship.
The implications kept unspooling in my mind, one after another. To make this convincing, we’d have to touch in public. Hold hands. Stand close. Act like two people who couldn’t get enough of each other. Alexander was perceptive; he’d see through anything half-hearted. If we were going to sell this, we’d need to be intimate. Convincing. Real.
And then there was the kiss.
I’d kissed women before—countless times. It had always been a means to an end, the expected prelude to something more. I’d never given much thought to kissing itself. It was just… a step. A formality on the way to the main event.
But kissing Raina had been different.
The softness of her lips. The small gasp she’d made when our mouths first met. The way she’d melted into me, her fingers pressing against my chest like she wanted to pull me closer. That kiss had stirred something in me I hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever.
And now I was supposed to fake a relationship with her while maintaining professionalism?
The contradiction was almost laughable. An oxymoron of the highest order. How was I supposed to hold her hand and gaze at her adoringly in public, then return to the office and pretend she was just my assistant? How was I supposed to keep my hands to myself when every instinct I had was screaming at me to touch her again?
I rubbed my tired eyes, turning from my computer as the elevator dinged at the end of the hall.
My already racing pulse skipped a beat.
I listened to her soft footsteps approaching, a familiar rhythm I’d come to recognize over the past few weeks. She paused at her desk as usual, doing something on her computer, and I found myself resenting the layout of the office and the way my position made it impossible to see her from where I sat.
It took her longer than normal to come to my door. Maybe I wouldn’t have noticed before, but today I was already on edge, every nerve ending attuned to her presence. The anticipation was unfamiliar, both electric and unsettling. I wasn’t used to waiting for anyone like this, wasn’t accustomed to the way my chest tightened with each passing second.
When she finally appeared in my doorway, I immediately knew something was wrong. At first glance, she looked the same as always. A red silk blouse tucked into high-waisted grey trousers, her blonde hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. No baked goods in her hands this Monday morning, but that wasn’t what caught my attention.
It was her expression. She smiled, but it wasn’t the same smile I’d grown accustomed to—the one that lit up her entire face and made the very air in the room feel lighter. This smile was polite. Professional. Her lips curved, but there was no spark in her blue eyes.
“Good morning,” she said, stopping about halfway across the room instead of approaching my desk the way she usually did.