Page 149 of One Wealthy Wedding

“You’re mocking me,” she grumbles, but I can feel her smiling against my skin, that secret smile she gives only to me.

“I like you,” I tell her. “I like you defending me.”

“Well, you won’t do it for yourself.”

“If I don’t tell them, what are you going to do about it?” I’m going to tell them, because Cat wants me to, but I want to needle her.

“No sex until you tell them,” she says mulishly.

“You think you can go without?” I skim a hand down her back, making her arch against me.

“Totally,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sure.

I put my lips to her ear. “I can be very convincing.” She shivers. I bite at the top of her ear. “But I’ll tell them. For you.”

“You will?” She pulls back and reaches up to press her lips to mine. “Good,” she says against my mouth. I slip my tongue between her lips, stroking and sliding, trying to consume her, to show her how special she is.

“You’re the only one who’s ever forced me to do things like that, you know.” I whisper the words.

“I hate that,” she whispers back. “You deserve more.”

“People don’t see me that way.” I kiss her again.

“What way?”

“Smart.” I cup her jaw. “Worthy.”

“I do,” she says simply. “You’re impressive to me.” She presses her hand over my heart. “Confident when I’m not, charming and smart, infinitely capable.” Her mouth curves up.

I bend to press a kiss to the freckle on the side of her lips. “You make me sound like a superhero.”

“You make me feel safe. When I’m with you, I feel like nothing can go wrong.”

I want to respond, but my throat is tight, and my heart feels too big for my chest. So instead, I crush her to me and claim her mouth. I kiss her until she can’t breathe, until my chest is heaving and her eyes are bright.

How am I supposed to let her go?

This marriage has an expiration date, but I want to keep her forever.

Cat is getting ready for dinner with Lane and Callie later. I watch from the bed while she twists her hair up and applies her makeup. She catches my eye in the mirror and smiles.

“No smiling,” I say.

Her grin broadens.

“Cat, please. You told me to keep my hands to myself. How am I supposed to do that if you smile?”

She winks at me, and I groan, but look away. Keeping my hands off her is impossible. I already had her in the shower and on the couch, but I’m half-hard just watching her get ready.

“What are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“Jonah invited us to dinner in his suite. He got a private chef.” I shrug. “Nothing big.”

Her brows go up. “A private chef. Nothing big.”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” I say. This is our last night here, and this bubble is going to burst. We’ll go back to New York, and the clock will start ticking down to the end of our time together.

Her eyes soften. “I know.”

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