Page 36 of My Possessive Billionaire: Our Fake Marriage

I didn’t know where that came from. It just sort of spurted out of me. Abruptly, Amanda gasped and pulled away from me.

“I… we shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not right.”

“What?” I said, utterly flabbergasted. I thought we were a go forsex. It seemed inevitable that’s where we were headed, either in the bedroom or right there in the back seat of the limo.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she repeated in a monotone. She hiked her dress back down and sidled over to the door, opening it herself. I watched as she vanished inside the manor house, taking the steps quickly despite her towering heels.

I sat there, blinking in confusion for a moment, utterly bewildered that she just kept defying me. I’d never had a woman resist me before.

I opened the door and followed her with a careful, measured stride. My mind grappled with what had just happened. I followed her path through the manor until I reached her bedroom door. It was closed tight, but I saw light shining from underneath. I somehow knew she was still awake.

I reached for the knob, and then I froze. I started thinking about what my next move was. I get in, and then what? Try to force her to like me, to respect me, to want me?

I turned, doing an about-face and headed back down the hallway. I passed by my own bedroom and just kept going to the recreational wing of the manor. A minute later I entered the gym and stalked toward the heavy bag, intent on beating out some frustrations.

I eschewed the glove and hit the bag barehanded. The last time I’d done that, I’d stripped away a layer of skin and had to wear a bandage for a few days. I was too lost in the corridors of my own mind to care.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Amanda. What was it about her that drove me so fucking nuts? How had she so suddenly, and unexpectedly, managed to get under my skin?

It was a hard pill to swallow, but I had to be brutally honest with myself. And the truth was that I was borderline obsessed with Amanda.

Even though she was only my fake, pretend wife, she’d growncloser to me than anyone else in my life. That is, sometimes she acted that way. Other times she was the most distant woman I’d ever known. Every other woman I’d ever been with had always done whatever I wanted them to.

I beat away on the heavy bag, sweating in my suit and not caring in the slightest. I felt the sting in my hands and knew I was probably raw and bleeding, but it didn’t compare to the pain I felt in my chest.

Amanda was so damn distant. I wanted her to sleep with me again, in both meanings of the word. I wanted her… I guessed I just wanted her.

I couldn’t put my finger on why. I mean, she was gorgeous. Of course, she was gorgeous. But she wasn’t the only gorgeous woman in the world. Just the only one I really wanted.

So, if it wasn’t looks, what was it? It sure wasn’t because she was pliable or easily manipulated. In fact, I respected the hell out of Amanda for the fact that she was not easily controlled. I admired her for it, too.

I realized, as I beat my hands into bloody oblivion, that I admired a lot of things about Amanda. I admired her passion, the way she’d do anything to save the stupid rainforest. I admired her moxie, her willpower, and her intelligence. I admired the way she so skillfully coordinated those huge charity events and made sure everything happened at just the right time, in just the right place.

I admired her for sticking to her guns. I realized she was right, it was a fake marriage. I shouldn’t have taken it personally that she forgot her wedding ring. I mean, as an employee she’d certainly fulfilled most of her obligations in a stunningly competent fashion.

I could hardly complain about her performance, if I were being objective. She’d smoothly handled a couple of situations at the movie premiere that I’d nearly botched with my surliness.Amanda had it all. Beauty, brains, and real gumption to stick to her convictions no matter what.

That’s when it hit me why I couldn’t get her off my mind. Why I felt so damn obsessed with her. It wasn’t that I liked her, though I did. A whole hell of a lot.

It was that I wanted her to likeme.

It had always been a given before that woman liked me. I never had to worry about being liked before. But this time I had to earn her affection.

I wanted her to want me. That silly classic rock song had come to be all too poignant to me out of nowhere. I didn’t want to force Amanda to be with me. I wanted her to want to be with me of her own free will.

I’d been trying to force her into it the whole time. That wasn’t working. It took me a moment to realize that I’d been trying to force her into it because that was the only way I knew how to get things done.

Picking up my pieces on the chessboard and moving them where I wanted them to be for my entire life. Only now I couldn’t pick up the rogue queen and move her. Only the rogue queen could move the rogue queen.

I had no experience in how to make the rogue queen move toward me instead of away from me. But I knew that I had to put an end to this situation one way or another.

One thing became totally clear. I had an epiphany and stopped hitting the heavy bag.

I turned around and pulled my phone out of the suit jacket pocket. Blood from my busted knuckles ruined the expensive garment but I didn’t care. I unlocked the screen and called Jenna’s number.

I knew that something had to change. I could not keep going on with Amanda the way that I had been.

Jenna picked up almost immediately.

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