Page 158 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

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"You missed the memo." I grind my teeth so hard, pain flicks up my jaw. "I’m getting divorced."

He shakes his head, "Don’t be such a..." He turns to Saint, "What was the very eloquent word you used?"

"Chutiya."

"Yep, that."

My left eyelid twitches, "And you’re the master of relationships because?"

"I am the one who’s married to a woman who lights up my days and my nights."

"What-fucking-ever. That flowery-ass bullshit may suit you, but it’s not for me."

"Hmm." Jace approaches me. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

Saint snickers, "If I were you, I’d be careful. Whatever Jace is on, it’s clearly infectious. I, for one, intend to savor my single status." He steps away, giving us both a wide berth.

Jace grimaces, "You going to be swayed by this sorry excuse of a douche, or you going to, for once in your sorry life, listen to your fucking heart?"

"Newsflash." Saint stretches out on the couch, "He doesn’t have one."

Jace jerks his chin at me, "Didn’t take you for a pussy."

Fuck this.I shut my eyes. "Now what?"

"What’s the first image that flashes behind your eyes?"

Her.

"What’s the first voice you hear?

Hers.

"The first scent?"

Her arousal.

"Color?"

The pink strands of her hair.

"The first touch you recall?"

How her lips had parted under mine. How she’d moaned, opened up for me. Welcomed me into her body, her life, her soul.

My eyes flash open.

"You doubt what you feel for her?"

A hot burn stabs at my chest.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Saint punches a cushion behind his neck, "Shag her out of your system, that’s what you should do. Get it all out, man."

I turn in his direction.

"Then," he rubs his hands together, "divorce her."

I prowl toward him.

"After," He links his hands behind his neck, "making her sign a watertight contract that she gives up all rights to your name, your firm, every goddam thing that she’s come in contact with."

I squint down at him. "You’re right."

"I am?"

"Good thing I am not you, eh?"

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