Page 14 of The Casella King

“I got you a drink,” he says, handing me a tall glass of which looks like a cocktail. I smile as I take it from him and set it down on the table. He doesn’t look impressed, his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not going to drink it?”

I bite my bottom lip, unsure of how to tackle this. “Ezra, I don’t really know anything about you.”

He cocks his head to the side, thinking about what I just said, the creases in between his eyebrows deepening.

“You think I would drug you?” He sounds hurt, and I don’t blame him.

“No, I just…” I pause, thinking about what I really want to say. “I think this whole thing would be more believable if wetruly got to know each other, you know, in case someone asks me something, and I look like an idiot if I don’t know the answer,” I say, taking a breath, anticipating his answer, but I don’t expect what comes out of his mouth next.

“Okay then, let’s go away together. Just us,” he says, his face returning to his usual serious look.

I laugh, a little too hard. “What? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other quicker with no distractions.” He lifts his glass to his lips as I watch the liquid dance into his mouth, his throat working to swallow.

Heat rises within me, forcing a rush to my cheeks. Thank God it’s dark in here because I’m pretty sure my cheeks are as red as a fire truck.

“I’m not sure I can commit to that. I mean, what about my job?”

He shrugs, like it’s the most unimportant thing in the world to him, and truthfully, it probably is. Why should he care about my job?

“What of it? You’ve agreed to be my wife, and if my wife doesn’t want to work, she doesn’t have to.”

I watch his chest rise and fall, the exposed skin just begging for my lips.

Fuck.

“Do you want to work, Aries?” I feel his fingers brush my hair away from my face, such an intimate, romantic act for someone who has been called a psycho.

Did I?

I think I did—I mean, I’ve worked all my life, since it was legal. I never really had the choice not to. I thought about it, and a few days off wouldn’t hurt, given that most of the things that needed to be done were admin anyway, my next wedding being in eight days.

“Where would we go?” I question, a smirk growing on his lips as his eyes fall to my lips.

“I know a place.” He looks back to me, his hand moving higher up my leg, making my stomach swirl with anticipation, then my attention is drawn to a man making his way into the seat across from us, placing his glass on the table in front of him.

“Mr Casella.” He nods before taking a seat.

Ezra doesn’t remove his eyes from me, and I feel them burning into the side of my face. “What is it?”

“We have hit a few…hurdles.” He clears his throat as Ezra’s hand glides up my thigh.

Sensing that I should be putting on a show, I gaze back into his eyes and trail my fingers from his temple to his jaw. My legs press together on their own at the intensity of his gaze.

“Hurdles can wait until tomorrow,” he says as his hand travels up to my hip, pressing into my skin possessively. “I’m busy.”

I look back to the man sitting opposite us, trying to avert his gaze from our obvious public display when I look behind him and notice a few other men at the bar, their eyes fixed on Ezra. They’re all dressed in suits, and I can’t tell if they work for him or not.

Who was this show for?

Ifind Nico sleeping on the lounge in my office in nothing but his black boxer briefs. Scotch bottles scattered over the floor, his socks strewn over the armchair.

I whip the door shut, the bang startling him, as he rolls off the lounge onto the floor.

“Fuck, man!” He covers his eyes, struggling to open them.

“It’s nine in the morning. Get up, we have work to do.” I take a seat behind my desk, opening my laptop. Nico picks up his clothes from the floor, his hair looking like a rat’s nest. “What happened to you anyway? Why are you here?”

---