Page 105 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

---

34

Summer

"Did she actually ask him that?"

I turn to Sinclair in time to see his lips twitch.

"I do believe the chemistry between Saint and your stepmother is interesting, to say the least."

"He’s not the kind who’d seduce a married woman—"

Sinclair shakes his head. "Not that he has many ethics… But that’s something he steers clear of. Which is one reason I find that scene intriguing."

"You could have warned me that he remarried." I tug my arm free from his and he lets me go. His warmth recedes and chills pepper my arm.

"So could you." He jerks his chin to my dress.

"It’s not the same thing."

"Oh?" He tilts his head, "My wife parading herself in almost next to nothing—"

"This is a completely decent dress—"

"Not." He growls, taking the steps two at a time.

I increase my pace to keep up with him. "Aaannd... I’m only your pretend wife," I pant.

His jaw tics and a vein bulges at his temple.

"So, you can’t really tell me what to do or wear, considering I don’t even have your ring on my finger."

Reaching the landing leading to his room, he stops, turns to peruse my features. "Is that why you’re pouting?"

I force all emotions from my features. "This is my normal resting face."

"And it’s a beautiful one, too."

"Did you pay me a compliment?"

He frowns.

"Yes. No." He drags his fingers through his hair. "Maybe."

I go to brush past him and he stops me. "I had your belongings moved."

"Huh?"

He jerks his chin toward the closed double doors. "My suite."

"Bu… but."

"We need to put up enough of a front for people to buy into the pretense."

"No one’s gonna pry into your living quarters, are they?"

"They wouldn’t dare." He widens his stance, "Consider it a precaution. As much as I trust my staff—I wouldn’t have them employed if I didn’t—still, I am not taking any chances until the deal is done."

"But—"

---