Page 22 of The Plus One Contract

My lips quirk upward. “There's a first time for everything.”

She huffs out a small laugh, blue eyes sparkling. “Yeah, apparently.”

I watch her closely—the subtle parting of her lips, the graceful line of her throat as she swallows.

Tempting.

Too damn tempting.

Despite everything, the electricity from last night still hums between us, faint but undeniable.

She knows it.

I certainly fucking know it.

She squares her shoulders, offering her hand with exaggerated formality. “Can we start over and pretend you haven’t seen me naked?”

I stare at her extended hand. There's no chance in hell I'll ever forget that.

But she's determined, eyes bright with challenge, daring me to play along.

Fine, sweetheart. Let’s play.

I grasp her hand firmly, the heat of her skin instantly reminding me of every detail I'd learned last night.

“Nathan.”

A soft blush dusts her cheeks, and her chin tilts defiantly as she recovers. “Nice to meet you, Nathan. I'm Sienna.”

“The pleasure's all mine.” I let my thumb briefly stroke across the back of her hand before releasing her.

She sucks in a breath. “Where are you headed?”

I lift my glass before I tell her, “California.”

She pauses, eyes closing. “Of course you are.”

“Let me guess. You too?”

She groans, shaking her head and draining her glass before setting it down again.

I chuckle softly, genuinely amused for the first time in ages.

As much as this woman has disrupted my morning, she's somehow managed to make it far more interesting than I ever imagined possible.

Twelve

Sienna

Nathan’s phone buzzes against the bar, its light briefly illuminating his face as he reads an incoming text.

It gives me a second to tilt my head back and silently mouth,What the actual fuck, universe?Because really—really? One reckless, spontaneous night of passion, and now I’m forced to sit here, having to make small talk with the man who left my legs trembling as if possessed.

Nathan’s fingers dance over his phone with efficient precision.

Still clinging to a hint of irrational bitterness, I lean in with a half-smile and ask, “Is your wife waiting anxiously at home for you?”

His gaze snaps up, an amused eyebrow arching. With a casual flick of his left hand, he wiggles those long, annoyingly attractive fingers. “No ring.” He pauses just long enough to watch me squirm before adding smoothly, “No wife. However, I do have a tall business partner with fantastic hair who drives me insane. We could call him my wife.”

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