Page 61 of Bride on the Dotted Line

We’re close—so close—to breaking the rules.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I look down at myself and shrug, trying to play it cool. “I just did my laundry today. Didn’t have any clean tops.”

Nick smirks, making a little, disbelieving noise in the back of his throat.Mmhm.“You really needed a distraction, huh?”

“Yes.” The word rushes out on an exhale. “Not that it’s helping.”

I expect him to say something flirty back, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to, but then he just nods. He wants to say more, I know he does, but we’re right up against a door neither of us can walk through.

After a long moment, he puts his attention on the stir fry, lifting a forkful to his mouth and chewing.

“It’s great,” he says. “Good job.”

I nod, unable to look away. His heady, masculine smell, his strong hands, his beautiful eyes. It’s like the air between us is shrinking. My bowl of stir fry steams in my hand, moisture wicking from my thumb where it overhangs the lip of the bowl.

I’m falling for you.Just say it.I want more.

“Um … have a good night,” I tell him. “Enjoy the food.”

Nick lets out a breath, gaze following me as I slide out from between the stove and the island, heading for my room. My legs are jerky, knees wobbling. Just as I’m about to step into the hall, he clears his throat.

“Sienna.”

“Yes?” I turn. He’s still standing where I left him, profile illuminated by the soft, yellow light of the kitchen.

“If I text you later tonight,” he says, “will you still be awake? For a … distraction?”

I glance at my phone in my hand, confused. It’s only nine o’clock. We often text after midnight, our usual banter, a quick goodnight. He’s never been this formal about it.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll be up for a while.”

“Good,” he replies without looking up. “Thanks for dinner.”

My stomach dances as he takes another bite, tattoos rippling over his arms. I could stare at him all night, committing the casual way he stands to memory. His tall, statuesque figure, the way he’s kicked one leg back, foot resting on the base of the cupboards behind him …

“Talk to you later.”

I scurry into my room, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap of my own making.

Chapter 20

Sienna

In my bedroom, moonlight seeps in under the gossamer curtains, so potent I can almost see raindrops hanging in the air. I nestle under my blankets and stare at my e-reader, trying in vain not to wonder when my phone will light up with his text.

The dark silence of the penthouse does nothing to ease my nerves. Nick is only a few steps away, just down the hall. After dinner, I heard him bumping around the kitchen, doing the dishes and listening to music on a low volume. Then his footsteps trailed up the stairs and disappeared behind his bedroom door.

Inside me, it’s like the world is cracking open.

I’m falling for you. I want more.

I drop my e-reader on the bed, breathing in and out. I’ve never felt like this before, this gut-squirming, heart-pounding cocktail of anxiety and excitement. I don’t know what to do with these unrequited feelings—can I hide them long enough to see Nick and I through to the end of the contract?

What if I can’t?

My family needs this money.Ineed it. Without the payment, I’m staring down the barrel of a lifetime of debt. Everything that Nick and I have accomplished together would be for nothing.

But his eyes tonight … they were deep, black, his proximity maddening, our conversation charged. The longing between us is getting more and more obvious. And though he only wants me for a quick, casual release of sexual tension, it’s nearly impossible for me to deny him.

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