Page 74 of Seduced by Her Billionaire Fake Fiancé

Something about this conversation was lined with danger, but she didn’t shy away from it. He was speaking her own inner-most fears. Maybe if she could understandwhyshe was so prim, Jack’s cheating would make sense.

“You’re wrong.”

“About what?” He moved closer, eyes flecked with amber and gold, lined with dark black lashes, probing hers. “You not caring? Or your being prim?”

“I’m—,” her tongue darted out, licking her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

He appeared to contemplate that. “Have you ever had sex with a guy anywhere other than a bedroom?”

She gasped at the question. “Marco,” her voice held a warning, but the physiological response to his words couldn’t be ignored. Her heart trembled, her cheeks flushed, her blood seemed to be racing through her body hard and fast. “How dare you?”

“That’s not an answer.”

Heat gushed between her legs. She glanced away quickly. “I’m—,”

“It’s a simple ‘yes’, or ‘no’ question.”

“That you have no right to ask.”

“What are you going to do?” He teased, moving closer, lifting a finger to her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Dob on me to my brother?”

“Go to HR?” She responded but her voice wobbled and her knees were even worse.

“You could do that,” he said with a shrug, then turned back to the table, picked up the pen and moved to the document.

Her ears were filled with gushing, rushing blood and she could hardly think straight, but she didn’t want him to sign the documents because then she’d have to leave and as weird and wrong and totally unexpected as their conversation had been, it had also made Portia feel more alive and sensual than she had in a very long time.

Her heart slammed into her ribs as heat made it almost impossible to breathe.

“Do you really think I’m prim?” She asked, moving closer, pretending that she wanted to witness his signature. He etched his name on the page, placed the pen down deliberately and slowly, and straightened.

“I’ve speculated about it,” he said thoughtfully. “Outwardly, yes, but there’s always been something about you,” he continued. “Something that makes me think you could be quite wild beneath all this,” he gestured to her grey suit.

Her insides trembled. This was her boss’s brother. Or was he technically her boss, given that she worked for the family business? Whatever. He was a total cad, a bachelor who changed women more frequently than most people changed sheets. He was definitely out of her league in terms of experience and, well, just about everything, really.

And yet…

She didn’t leave.

She didn’t want to leave.

She wanted more of this. More of feeling interesting. Sensual. Of feeling that someone like Marco might actually have been contemplating her wildness, or lack thereof.

It was just a question of ego. Hers had been badly battered and bruised, and suddenly she saw a way to feel better. Just for a minute. It couldn’t go much further than this, but just letting him flirt with her was doing something to the deep, aching wounds of her soul.

He’s your sort-of boss,an inner-voice screamed, but Portia blanked it.

“I think,” she said, belatedly, realizing he was looking at her, as though waiting for an answer. “You’d be disappointed.”

His eyes flicked to hers. “Is that an invitation?”

She gasped, unaware of having said as much, and yet, basically, yes. She had been inviting him to test his theory, to ascertain for himself the truth of his speculation.

“I’m asking,” he said, after a beat, teasing. “For the record. In case HR requests to speak to me.”

She swallowed, her throat shifting with the movement, his eyes dropping and lingering there. “I’m not going to go to HR,” she said, jutting her chin.

“No?”

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