Page 46 of Keeping The Virgin

My stomach curdles. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

He sets the brush on the surface of the table, and I try not to feel badly that he seems not to care about us “breaking up,” even if it’s a fake breakup.

I meet his gaze in the mirror. “From now on, you’re going to have to keep your wild dating life real low-profile in order to keep his business. Can you manage that?”

Cage doesn’t say anything. He only keeps looking at me in the mirror until overwhelming heat consumes me.

Then he steps away from me, completely out of the reflection.

“Let’s go, Karini. Just enjoy tonight’s wining and dining and romancing.”

I guess I’m not going to get an answer about his future with other women. Still, it’s as if he’s making last night’s strange behavior up to me, just as he did this morning when he cooked me breakfast.

I’ll take what I can get.

He leaves the room, and I stand from the vanity table seat. He has no idea he’s taking my heart with him.

So what will I do when this arrangement is over? Cry? Wallow in what could’ve been with a billionaire who has no idea how to connect with me except sexually? Yes, I’ll have the money I need, but just thinking about being away from him hurts…

My phone dings where I left it on the bed, and I freeze, dreading who might be texting me.

I inch over to it to see that my worst fear has come true.

Time is running out.

Panicked, I shut my phone off and take it with me as I run out of the room to catch up to Cage.

* * *

Cage takesme to Columbus Circle where there’s a small, red-shaded tasting room that specializes in Russian vodkas. He’s bought the place out for the night, and we sit at the dark-wooded bar by ourselves, the sole customers.

The air is cool in here, contrasting with the summer night outside. Cage orders and then I listen raptly as our server explains in a thick accent about how vodka is distilled and the different ingredients it’s distilled from, and then we taste the smooth liquor.

It goes down like silk.

We have plates of foie gras and caviar as appetizers, then Chicken Kiev for an entree. Oddly, no matter how much I drink tonight, nothing gets me even buzzed. It might be because the latest text from Liam has upset my system, and I’m so desperate to do well with this “girlfriend” thing that nothing is going to stop me—not even with Liam hanging over me.

Even so, when my nerves fail me and I spill some of the vodka I’m having with dinner on the bar, Cage frowns at tonight’s first faux pas.

I quickly use my napkin to clean it. “Sorry. I swear, the alcohol isn’t a factor in my clumsiness.”

Our server, who has left us to dine alone, comes by and cleans the mess without a fuss.

When he leaves, Cage looks as if he’s wondering if there’s time to contact a charm school so I can take some emergency classes there.

I touch his arm. “Mr. Vasiliev isn’t going to disapprove if I spill a little vodka.”

“It’s not that. You seem extra…jumpy tonight. I want to make sure that doesn’t happen with—”

“Our dinner tomorrow. I know, Cage. I know how much this means to you.”

It seems that he has to pull himself out of this dark place that my one little mistake has put him in. The stress is weighing on him so heavily that it almost has him in a vise.

I try to distract him. “So we can guess what Mr. Vasiliev is going to ask me during dinner. What do you think he’s going to question you about, besides how we met and all that?”

“I told you that he already grilled me about my ambitions and plans early on.”

---