Page 106 of Sinister Intentions

Her eyes hardened, she wove her fingers into my hair, then pulled. “Sorry to drag you out of your delulu fantasies, but that will never happen.”

I chuckled, kissed her nose, then hugged her and rolled us around. She belonged in my arms. Period. And it was high time we both accepted that fate.

My mother always told me if I ever met the right person, I would know. She’d been right. It just took me a while to accept that the right person might seem all wrong—in every aspect. But my body had known way before my mind caught up.

“Vince?”

My stomach tightened when I heard Matt’s voice reverberating through the apartment. Fuck.

I met Jemma’s gaze, who looked completely freaked out.

I kissed her nose once more, then lifted her off me, rolled out of the bed, grabbed my pants, and pulled them up. “Get dressed. We’ll be in my office, and afterward, we’ll go grab some breakfast.”

She nodded while still clutching the blanket against her chest.

I winked at her, then turned, left, and closed the door behind me.

Matt would have no qualms about entering my bedroom. And I didn’t need him to find his ex-fiancée and my future wife naked and in my bed.

Not before I talked to him and explained the situation.

That Jemma was mine.

That I was the one who would marry her.

Not him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

As soon as Vince closed the door behind him, I jumped up and searched the room for my clothes from yesterday. Where the hell were they? I even checked the en-suite bathroom, without luck. I didn’t even have the shirt I’d slept in.

It was still in his office, on his desk…where he and I…

Damn. I would not think about how he’d laid me out and devoured me as if I were his favorite dessert.

Shit…now that was exactly what I was thinking about. Heat rose up from my chest, and I fanned myself while I got up, moved to the door, and eavesdropped.

Matt and Vince’s voices were too muffled to make out anything. I swiped the room once more. But my clothes weren’t there. Vince must’ve moved them, that I was sure because I hadn’t been that drunk yesterday, and I could remember he placed them on the chair right here.

What kind of a neat freak cleaned up in the middle of the night? And had he not slept at all?

I walked into his closet, took a whiff, and did a 360. There were so many black suits and white and black dress shirts, it wasn’t even funny. And the whole room smelled like Vince’s signature scent—something heavy, dangerous, and incredibly sensual and sexy.

I went to the row of suit jackets, touched them, then looked at the label of one of them. Brioni, not Armani as I’d expected.

I went through several drawers, grabbed some boxer shorts and a dress shirt, then wrapped a belt around my waist to hold everything in place.

I looked in the mirror, then shrugged. The clothes were several sizes too big, but with the belt, they at least didn’t dwarf my body and would hopefully stay in place. Even though Matt would know immediately that those clothes weren’t mine.

I braced myself for some major awkwardness, then sighed. There wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.

I stepped out of Vince’s bedroom, my heart pounding like a jackhammer, closed the door behind me, and moved across the corridor toward the voices in the living room.

The sudden silence hit me like a wall as all eyes locked onto me as soon as they came in sight.

My cheeks burned, and I tugged at the hem of Vince’s oversized shirt, acutely aware of how ill-fitting the clothes were.

Matt’s eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and amusement dancing in his eyes before he cast a glance at Vince.

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