Chapter 23
DEX
I’ve spent the entire day working. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself. In reality, I’ve been sitting in my private villa, watching my wife.
That word doesn’t seem so strange anymore. I quite like it. From where I’m sitting, I have the perfect vantage point to see her at the infinity pool, stretched out in the sun, those curves impossible to ignore. She looks gorgeous. People keep coming up to her, congratulating her on our marriage, smiling, flattering her.
It’s not just her looks. God knows, she’s stunning. Dani has a heart of gold. She hates that people notice her looks. It’s why she picked me, because I didn’t fall at her feet.
Yet, there’s something between us. Something that burns, sizzles. My lips still remember our first dance, our kiss.
I want more, and I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance. I don’t know how she feels about me. She’s made it clear this is just a business arrangement, a deal to save her father’s company. An arranged marriage with a clear-cut expiration date.
But we connected, and that is hard to forget, even as I work, and she sunbathes by the pool.
My brothers are almost home. I’ve been texting Jett, Zach, and Rio, but Rio isn’t answering. I text Jett, needing his opinion as to why the old man stayed behind. His reply is dry and predictable:
Shouldn’t be surprised. He’s obviously there to spy on the business.
Do you think something’s not right with the deal?
I text back.
Jett’s reply:
Our father wouldn’t have agreed to this deal otherwise
I text Zach, asking for his thoughts. His response?
Any photos from the honeymoon?
My reply:
Sick
The hours pass and I catch up on my workload. My schedule is all over the place. We’re here for three nights, then back to Brazil for a day because Daniela insists on spending time with her parents. After that, New York.
And then… reality.
I’ll have to get used to her invading my privacy, her presence in my penthouse, the way she’ll set up her life inside mine.
Hopefully, the renovations will be done by the time we return.
By the time I finally look up, the sun is high, and I’m roasting. I glance outside and narrow my eyes. Daniela is standing near the infinity pool. Talking to someone. Wearing that damn sexy strapless bikini.
My insides are molten lava when I recognize the guy. He’s a Hollywood superstar. One of those action-hero types. And he’s standing too damn close to her, his hand hovering near hers, his body angled toward her like he’s claiming her space. She’s smiling, nodding politely, but I know that look. It’s the look of a woman trying to disengage without making a scene.
Jealousy creeps in before I can shove it down. I don’t like the way the guy lingers, the way Daniela tries to walk away, and he won’t let her. She didn’t ask for that attention. She hates it, that’s why she picked me.
I move before I think, striding out, across the pool area, heat pulsing through me, not from the sun, but from something darker, something possessive. By the time I reach them, I barely hear what the guy is saying. Daniela turns toward me just as I take her hand, pulling it free from his touch.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say smoothly, my grip firm around her wrist. “Everything okay?”
Daniela blinks up at me, her lips parting in surprise. And then she kisses me. It’s instinctive, natural, the way our bodies fit together like they’ve done this a thousand times before. Her tongue swipes my lower lip and a buzz hums inside my body.
My hands encircle her waist as I claim her mouth, can’t help myself as my tongue sweeps into her mouth. I press against her, eliciting a soft moan from her. Then her hands slide around my neck, and I tighten my grasp on her waist, my fingers tracing over her soft, warm and slightly damp skin. I fight the urge to explore. To slide my hands inside her tiny bikini bottoms. To reach down the front and explore her folds. To dip my head lower and suckle her breast.
Whoa. My imagination raced ahead. Thoughts I’d managed, with difficulty, to suppress as I tried to work, release as our mouths crush together, our tongues dueling and dancing. Those tempting ideas take a hold of me again.
This woman is so luscious to touch. So soft and inviting. She’s almost naked, save for tiny bits of fabric strategically placed over her body. I have fisted myself to orgasm, while showering, trying to brace for each day with her.
It’s slowly killing me.
“Thank you,” she murmurs against my mouth as we slowly pull apart. I barely heard what the man said before we kissed and now he’s gone.
“Thank you.”
“For saving me,” she says, looking hot and flushed and sexy as hell.
“This is going to be a thing with you, isn’t it?” My gaze drags down her body before I can stop myself. Her bikini hugs her curves like a lingering lover. Water droplets fall into the crevasse between her breasts, dripping down over the full and luscious globes. I try to swallow. Try to breathe, but I’m enraptured by how smooth and bronzed her skin is, how it glistens in the sun. My eyes slowly roam over her full, plush hips, and those long and lean legs that go on forever. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the idea of them wrapped around my waist.
“Kissing you?” she asks.
“Needing to be rescued on account of all the attention you seem to get.”
“I don’t need rescuing, Dexter. I can take care of myself.”
But she’s my wife.
There’s no way I’m going to stand by and watch some sleazeball try to get her attention. There’s no way I’m going to let my wife squirm and try to squiggle her way out of it. I’ll be there, no matter what. Every part of her body is made for sinning. I should look away. I should move. I should say something sharp, something detached. Instead, my voice comes out rough. “I should get back to work.”
“Are you still working?” There’s a hint of playfulness in her eyes. Yesterday we were playing the part of being married, and today, now, it almost feels like we really are.
“I’ve got a little more to do and then I’m done. Maybe we can have lunch together?”
“I’ve had my lunch, Dexter. I didn’t ask you because you seemed so busy.” Her fingers slowly trail up my arm, and when I don’t move, she strokes my face, her thumb hovering just over my lips. I love this, and I’m tempted to ask what she’s doing, but I get it, especially when I see that people around us are staring.
“You’re learning fast, Gatinha.” Her face lights up, and I have a feeling that she loves me calling her that.
“People are watching, and we have to give them a show.”
“Are they?”
She raises an eyebrow. “We have to keep up the pretense.”
I step closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off her skin. “I guess we do.” My fingers instinctively wrap around her waist. She jumps, and her eyes turn darker. My cock jumps to attention as I see her thick, plumpy lips, her face upturned and just inches from my face.
“Can you take it?” she asks. “This charade.”
“It means nothing to me,” I whisper.
Lies.
This time, I lean in for another kiss, my hands framing her waist, her curves pressing against me.
She’s barely wearing anything. Just a bikini that she fills out in all the right places. And if I’m not careful, I’m going to be carrying way too much heat.
“It also means nothing to me,” she rasps, pressing her body against me, suggestively. Too close. Too flush. Too sexy. Then she does the last thing I could ever imagine her doing. She reaches down, and her fingers barely graze my hardened cock. I twitch, feeling that touch everywhere. I think I’ve imagined it, but her eyes hold mine and her fingertips dance over my length, like she’s daring me to do something. Reciprocate. Or wait for her next move.
I’m too focused on how this feels, on what might happen next, to do anything, but savor the moment. She strokes me gently, in that tight, small space between us. Fuck, if this doesn’t feel like heaven. I’m so hard, I could come over her hands if she keeps this up.
This can’t happen, so I lift her fingers, and bring her knuckles to my lips, pressing a kiss there.
“We’re good actors,” I murmur entwining my hand in hers. We’re also totally screwed. “I should get back to work.” I get back to the safety of the villa and wonder how the hell I’m going to get through this honeymoon.
Things are moving so fast and my feelings for Daniela have evolved. I’ve done a one hundred and eighty degree turn with her.
But I didn’t want this.
She did.
Now I don’t know what to do. I’m a man who has built his life on control. On emotional detachment. On never letting anyone get too close.
I don’t do relationships. I can’t love.
I won’t love.
And yet, ever since I stepped into this woman’s orbit, something inside me has shifted. Maybe it’s because the dynamics are different. Daniela is a woman who is perfectly fine without me.
I like that about her.
She’s strong. Independent. Snarky and unafraid to put a man in his place. And she’s got a good body; hard and firm, honed from jiu-jitsu and running. Yet she still has curves in all the right places.
She had the guts to fly out alone to meet my father and negotiate a deal. But still, the nagging question lingers. Why this alliance? It smacks of desperation. Or is it something else? She has alluded to her family business going through some struggles and has admitted they could use an injection of capital.
But something in my gut tells me it’s more than that. I hate that I don’t have the answers, but what I hate even more is that she’s perfectly fine without me.
I feel tempted to do the one thing I swore I wouldn’t. To stop pretending. But if I gave in, where would that lead?
She thinks we have twelve months but seven months from now, I’ll walk away. We’ll part, go our separate ways, and life will go on.
That’s the plan, but I’m suddenly not so sure.
***
DANI
If Dexter wants to play games, he can. I know men like him. Men who run when they feel trapped.
But I haven’t trapped him. His own father did that.
Though I did choose him. Would it have made a difference if I’d picked Rio? I shudder. No. Not Rio. He’s too much like Oscar Ramos. He hunts, and chases.
Dexter is different. Aloof. Detached. He also told me once that his father couldn’t have forced him into marrying me. He’s his own man and he’ll do whatever he wants. Then why would he agree to this?
I spend the rest of the day on my own, making the most of my solo honeymoon. Time flies as I read by the pool, swim in the ocean, then, occasionally, slather myself with suntan lotion before lying back on the recliner with a cocktail and a book.
By six o’clock, Dexter still hasn’t come out. I should check on him and make sure he hasn’t passed out. Make sure he hasn’t been bitten by some poisonous insect.
But I won’t. He’s expecting me to.
I was so relieved when he came out to rescue me from that odious celebrity, that I couldn’t help but lean in and hug him out of sheer gratitude. Except, it just felt so natural when I ended up kissing him.
What I didn’t expect? Him kissing me back.
My brain went into a daze as soon as he touched me, pressing me tight against him. His firm body, impossible to ignore. His hardness, a shock. I did that, to him?
My heart leaps with the thought of Dexter Knight becoming sexually aroused. His lips, his sweet mouth, the taste and feel of him. My legs almost buckled and I tightened my hold on him, as if clinging to stay upright. My breasts pressing into his hard chest.
I’m in a state of constant arousal. Something that is new to me. Having a man foremost in my thoughts. Desire pulsating through every vein. I need him more than I’ve ever thought it was possible to need anyone.
I hate that he keeps himself to himself, inside, working. It’s as if he doesn’t feel anything for me.
This is a game to him, and I mustn’t forget that he’s a Knight. No matter how much he thinks it doesn’t affect him, his mother’s tragic passing, and his father’s iron fist, I know it does.
Dexter is all kinds of messed up.