Page 116 of Morally Black Betrothal
And now? I wasn’t sure if I’d just broken the rules—or myself.
“It’s just a business arrangement,” I managed. “I know that. I crossed a line, and I—it won’t happen again.”
My words sounded like they’d come from somewhere else because inside, all I could hear was my soul screaming for more.
More kisses.
More touching.
More Brendan.
A sly expression spread across his face, telling me he understood the tug-of-war going on inside my mind. Slowly, he leaned across the back seat to press another kiss just under my jaw. “Sweet, sweet Simone. Haven’t you ever heard of mixing business and pleasure? Or contract amendments?”
Oh God, if he kept twirling his tongue like that, I was going to yank my skirt back up for round two. “Brendan…”
He adjusted his trousers and groaned. “You can’t know the effect it has on me when you say my name like that.”
“You like being chided?”
“Maybe I just like that someone cares enough to want me to do the right thing.”
It begged the question: if his family weren’t putting pressure on him to do the “right thing,” what exactly were they putting pressure on him to do?
He didn’t wait for me to ask as he sat up. “You’re right, I know. This won’t happen again. Not unless you kiss me first. Again.”
For that, he earned a smack on the shoulder, which only made him laugh, full-throated and deep from his belly.
It was maybe the best sound I’d ever heard.
“Dinner?” he wondered. “Or do you want to take that dress to the opera or a show? It deserves to be seen by someone who doesn’t want to rip it off you in the back of his car.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I actually think you tore it. And my mascara has to be down to my neck. If I’m being honest, the only thing I want to do is take my puffy face upstairs, draw myself a bath, and forget this day ever happened.”
“Fair enough. But tomorrow, we’re going to take care of this problem completely.”
He knocked on the door, which the driver quickly opened, then got out before turning for me. I hopped out behind him after wiping my face with a tissue. My eyes were swollen, but at least my makeup wouldn’t be too smeared when the doormen caught sight of me.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked as we entered the building.
Brendan waved hello to one of the doormen, keeping my hand in his on our way to the elevator. He pressed the call button before turning to me. “I’m taking the day off. We need to be seen together, and you need to get some respect. I dare them to kick you out tomorrow when I’m with you. I dare them to treat you like anything other than the love of my fuckin’ life.” He bared his teeth. “First the shopgirls. Then my family.”
He snapped his fingers one by one, like the action snuffed out his enemies just as easily.
And while I appreciated the gallantry and the help with a task I clearly needed to do, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I were the object of one of Brendan’s snaps.
And how quickly, if he wanted, could I be snuffed out?
27
CULTURE SHOCK
Simone
Shopping on Newbury with Brendan proved to be an entirely different experience than when I was alone.
It probably helped that my fake fiancé was unbelievably gorgeous in his bespoke suit, and none of the salesclerks could stop staring at him. But it was the casual mention of his name that mainly did the trick. Black wasn’t technically etched across the storefront windows, but they certainly knew who signed their paychecks. And probably who was on the cover ofForbesthis month too.
“We’re here to do some serious damage,” Brendan said every time we entered a new store.
