Page 51 of Seduced by Her Billionaire Fake Fiancé

“All of it,” he replied, nodding towards the glass.

“You’re very bossy.”

“Yes.”

“Always?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know if I like it.”

A single brow arched upwards. “Don’t you?”

She glared at him, then nearly lost her footing, without even attempting to move. He snaked out a hand, steadying her, and her lips parted at the instant spark that buzzed through her.

Drinking the water, her eyes stayed latched to his. When she was finished and the glass was empty, she handed it to him, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. He took the glass, placed it on the bedside table.

“Turn around.”

She didn’t.

He made a noise of impatience then came to stand behind her. “Your dress got wet.”

“I know.”

His hands ran reverentially over her shoulders, lifting goosebumps across her skin, but it was an almost clinical touch, as he sought the zip and slid it down.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you get ready for bed.”

“I can manage,” she said, stumbling a little without even attempting to move.

“No, you can’t.”

“Bossy again.”

“Only when required.” His voice was terse. The dress slithered to the ground and his hands were gone, the desertion instantly felt. He strode across the room to a large wardrobe, opened it, removed a shirt from a drawer and brought it across to her. Standing in front of Andie now, making her self-conscious of her bare breasts, he stretched the shirt over her head, helping her feed her hands through the arm holes.

“The bathroom’s through there,” he said, but dubiously. “Do you need help?”

She shot him a glance. “Of course not.”

But her legs were none too steady beneath her and after a short curse he caught her at the waist and guided her to the bathroom.

“Toothbrush?” She asked impishly.

“Here.” He led her to the bench and only when her hip was propped against it did he relinquish his touch, moving to the top drawer and removing a brand new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. He squeezed some gel onto the bristles, wet it, then handed it to Andie.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, brushing her teeth under his watchful scrutiny, wondering what he was thinking, why he was looking at her like that, pleased that she was able to make it to the basin herself to spit out the toothpaste and rinse her mouth. When she straightened, he was holding out a freshly folded hand towel for her. She patted her lips then handed it back.

“Thank you,” she said again. He stayed where he was. “Are you going to watch me pee?” She asked with a hint of hauteur.

His eyes narrowed. “Do you promise you won’t fall off the seat?”

She rolled her eyes. “I promise.”

“I’ll be just outside the door,” he muttered, moving with obvious reluctance away and closing the door behind him.

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