Page 35 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
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Sienna
* * *
Asher's room in the hotel is not even half the size of the suite I share with Jace. I am shivering from the walk through the garden. The cool air has also cleared my head a little, bringing with it a dawning realization of what I've done.
The one chance I had to get the money and rescue my business and I've blown it. That's it, then. I can kiss the money from Jace goodbye. I swear inwardly.
I had taken up Asher's challenge to follow him into the pool. Worse. I. Had. Stripped. Bare. In front of all the guests.
I cover my face and groan aloud.
As if that were not enough, I'd made sure Jace had seen me leave with Asher. Had dared him to follow. I had provoked him.
And I can't understand why I'd done it.
Because I'd been drunk? Too far gone to care about the reason I had come here in the first place? No, that's not true. I knew what I’d been doing.
I'd goaded Jace. I'd wanted to get him to react, to find out if he feels anything for me.
I wanted to provoke him. Make him feel jealous. Wanted to make him feel the way I do when I see him. Make him want me the way I want him.
And I'd also been jealous of the emotions I'd seen on his face as he talked with Asher at the hotel.
Somewhere in the last few days, I'd begun to want this man. The need to possess him is slowly taking root.
I'd let the lust inside come to the fore. And now I am going to pay for it.
Jace's going to walk away from the bargain, and I am going to lose everything.
As these thoughts run through my head, Asher looks at me and says, "Why don't you take a shower? You look cold."
I purse my lips. "Are you also going to use that line with me?"
"Why?" He asks, his face expressionless. "Is that what he said to you?"
I don't need to ask who Asher is referring to. There is only one 'he' as far as we're both concerned.
Without bothering to reply, I walk into toward the bathroom.
"Wait," he calls out before I can shut the door.
He rummages around in the chest of drawers by the wall near the bathroom, before handing me a pair of jeans, shirt, a belt.
I walk out after the shower with the jeans rolled up almost double. It's held up by tying the belt twice around my waist.
Asher has changed too. He's bare-chested, and wearing comfortable pajama bottoms. They mold to his thighs and hang around his hips. Sculpted chest and a flat stomach. Well defined muscles, angle down into a 'V' toward his groin area.
Once again, he looks to have stepped straight out of a fashion advertisement. This man is gorgeous.
Too perfect.
Unlike Jace, who has a rougher, more natural appeal. The kind I prefer to the manufactured prettiness on display in front of me now.
"You look good." Asher says.
"No way." I laugh, running my hands through my damp hair which lies in raggedy tails around my face.
