Black Ties and White Lies(72)

He grunts, gesturing to the bed in the middle of the room. “You’re eye fucking the hell out of me. If you aren’t careful, I’ll end this call right now and fuck you on top of the sheets I’m trying to replace.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a finger. “Oh hi,” he begins, clearing his throat. “Uh yes, we do need new sheets.”

My eyes bug as I realize whoever is on the other line with him definitely heard the threat he just gave me. I know I should be embarrassed, but instead I find it hilarious that Beck is clearly uncomfortable talking to whoever answered. His pale cheeks fill with color, something I haven’t seen before.

I have to stifle a giggle as he places the phone back on its station. When he looks at me with a menacing grin, I know I’m in trouble.

“You find that funny?” he taunts, taking a step closer to me. I take a step backwards, trying to escape the wrath in his eyes. The plush hotel robe is way too long on me, causing me to almost trip over my feet with the backwards movement.

I shake my head at him, hating that my lips betray me by curing up in a smile. “Nope,” I answer, popping the P for dramatics.

He raises his eyebrows, adjusting the towel on his waist. “You’re lying,” he drawls.

My calves hit the back of a chaise lounge, giving me no place else to go. He knows I’m cornered by the Cheshire cat grin on his face. “Do you find it amusing that a poor old woman just heard me threaten to fuck you?”

“I mean, she probably would have gathered anyway when you asked for new sheets.”

He hums, closing the distance between us and pulling me toward him by the lapels of my robe. “You have a point there, Miss Moretti.”

Standing on my tiptoes, I loop my arms around his neck. He smells delicious. The vanilla and sage soap the hotel provided is a scent I’ve become obsessed with. “Soon to be Mrs. Sinclair,” the words fall from my mouth before I can think better of them. The moment they’re out, I wonder if I’ve said too much. “You know, with our agreement and everything. I didn’t know if it was now time for that,” I add last minute, internally wishing I would’ve just kept my mouth shut.

Now that we’ve slept together, I don’t know what it means for our arrangement. I’d imagine it’s still on, but things do seem more…complicated now.

“I’m the one who mentioned it to begin with. Tell me when and where and we’ll make it official.”

My heart flutters in my chest, something it shouldn’t be doing. While we may be intimate now, it doesn’t change the fact that our engagement will be a lie. When he says, “make it official,” it isn’t in a romantic way. At the end of the day, it’s a business arrangement for him, and I need to keep reminding my heart of that fact.

I run my fingers over the hard planes of his muscles. For the time being, all of this is mine. We’d also come to that agreement. We’d have each other and nobody else for the year while we pretended to be in love. It’ll undoubtedly hurt at the end of this when we stop pretending, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy him for as long as I have him.

Any amount of time I can have Beck looking at me the way he is right now will have to be enough for me. Women would kill to have one night with him. I get an entire year.

“You did say people would believe us after a month of me working for you…”

His hands drift underneath my robe, running over my ass. “Are you saying you’ll be my fiancée?”

“I’m saying whenever you decide to ask, I’ll say yes. Don’t forget I want a big ass ring Mr. Sinclair. It has to be believable, of course.”

He kisses the tip of my nose. The gesture makes me feel warm all over. He’s so commanding and scary at work, when he does soft things like kiss the tip of my nose or run his thumb along the top of my hand, I can almost convince myself that this isn’t all just for show. That we did develop feelings while working with each other, and that none of this is pretend. That everything between us is raw and real.

“Noted.” The tone of his voice makes me wonder if there’s more he wants to say, but I don’t push it. I’ve already tested my luck by bringing up the impending fake engagement.

A knock sounds at our door, bringing a halt to our conversation. I miss the warmth of his body the moment he pulls away. Taking long strides to the door, he peeks out the hole, standing there and watching whatever he can see on the other side. He waits there for a few moments before opening it.

He grabs a paper bag identical to the ones we got in the gift shop from the ground. Smirking, he shuts the door. “Looks like our new sheets came.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to look that nice woman in the face again tomorrow morning.” She seemed so sweet, like my grandmother. The fact she knows that Beck and I clearly put the honeymoon suite to good use—even after admitting we work together—mortifies me. I’m fairly confident my grandmother still thinks I’ve never kissed anyone. She’d probably faint if she knew all the filthy things my boss just did to me here.

Beck sets the bag on the top of the bed. Walking over to our stuff from earlier, he pulls out the clothes we bought at the gift shop and throws them over to me. “Put these on before I strip you of that robe and sink inside you again.”

“That doesn’t sound so terrible.”