Page 27 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

The next day, in his car, we made our way to the doctor, more show in our pretend efforts to start a family and throw the media off the scent of our so-called fake marriage.

“I think we need to discuss the contract,” I said.

“No.” The word was so damn final it almost made me mad. But anger wouldn’t get me anywhere with Alexander, and I knew it.

"Why?" I asked wondering why he wouldn’t even talk to me about it. Things had undeniably changed between us, and I thought the contract needed revisiting.

Alexander hesitated. I hated that more than anything. Did he think I was too fragile or too stupid to talk openly? Or was he just not interested in working with me at all? His jaw clenched. "I don’t want to hurt you, Claire."

I blinked, stunned by the words. He shifted closer, a movement so slight but so significant that it left me trembling. How could he still have this power over me, after everything? He didn’t touch me, but he didn’t have to. I already felt it.

“Hurt me how?”

“In any possible way.”

That didn’t make sense. “How would discussing the contract hurt me?”

He was silent, his hands tightening around the wheel until the rich leather squeaked in protest.

The words left me with more questions than answers, but he didn’t seem interested in helping me understand. Typical. The man was a thorn in the skin between my thumb and index finger. One of the really small ones that you can’t see but can feel the sting every time it moves.

The car ride was silent, and so was the doctor’s visit. When we got back to the penthouse, I still didn’t understand. Not him, not myself, not the mess we’d created that he seemed so against fixing or working on.

When he said my name, I had high hopes he’d reconsidered.

"Claire, you need to know. You have a security detail now."

I blinked, thrown by the words. Why did I need protection? Simple answer, I didn’t. Was this another method to control me? Maybe to make it so I stopped walking in on him at inopportune times? "What are you talking about?"

He looked at me like I should already know. "You’ll have a small team with you. At all times."

The defiance surged up before I could stop it. "I don’t need a bodyguard, much less a team of them," I said, my voice loud in the empty space.

"You do now," he said, his tone so maddeningly final that I wanted to scream.

I grumbled, crossing my arms, trying to remind myself that I didn’t owe him anything. Didn’t owe him compliance or gratitude or anything more than I was already giving.

"I can take care of myself," I said, a flash of anger in my voice, because anger was easier than fear, easier than letting him win. If he thought I needed protecting… he probably knew something I didn’t. Not that he’d tell me if I asked.

Alexander watched me with an unreadable expression, one that kept me guessing, kept me hoping. "That’s not the point," he said, his voice quieter now, but with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. "If people start thinking you’repregnant with my baby…" He trailed off, and I saw the way his jaw tightened, so hard I expected him to break a tooth or three.

Those words… the thought of being pregnant with his baby…

My cheeks went red. We’d have to, uh, do something for that to happen. But since our kisses at the cabin, he’d been a lot more careful. I think he’d been surprised, as much as I was, maybe.

I didn’t want to admit I craved the sensation of his lips on mine again. My resolve had thinned to nearly nothing, to the point of failing. It was inevitable. I couldn’t stop it, just like I couldn’t stop the way he made me feel. I was falling for him. For the real him. For the idea of him that was taking root in my heart, no matter how hard I fought against it.

What.

A.

Disaster.

"Fine," I said, the word sharp and quick, before it could betray me by sounding like anything but reluctance. I turned away, wishing I could miss the ghost of a smile that played on his lips, the look that said he knew he’d won.

I hated myself for conceding, hated the way I already felt safer because of it. I hated him for being so frustratingly immovable. And I hated the way that immovability made my pulse race in ways it never had before.

I needed to get away, escape, something. So, I waited for him to get a phone call he took back to his office and slipped out to go get a coffee at my favorite place.

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