Chapter 10 Karina #2
“Love or not, appearances matter in this world,” he says, swirling the remaining wine in his glass. “And I would like to honor the terms of this arrangement while maintaining my reputation. And yours, by extension.”
I feel a flush creep up my neck. He’s right, of course.
A courthouse wedding would look suspicious, especially for someone of his status.
And despite my protests, I can’t deny that a small part of me—the part that once dreamed of white dresses and flower arrangements before life’s harsh realities set in—is curious about what a wedding to someone like him would entail.
“I’ll think about it,” I concede. “But what else do you have in mind?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of—”
He stands up abruptly and moves around to my side of the table, taking a seat next to me. My eyes widen, but I quickly recover. The heat of his body radiates through the thin fabric of my dress, and I have to resist the urge to lean into him.
“We could have a proper engagement party.” His voice low and intimate, and it’s disrupting those butterflies that have finally settled. “Nothing too flashy, but enough to make it believable. We need to sell this marriage, don’t we?”
His fingers brush against mine on the table, and I feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. I swallow hard. Sweet fucking heavens, this man here. “No to the engagement party. So what else do you propose we do to sell this?”
“Okay, no engagement party. So in that case, we could practice being a bit more… affectionate in public.”
Before I can react, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. His lips linger for a moment, and his beard tickles my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I inhale quickly, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. My heart races and I silently curse my body’s betrayal.
“See?” he whispers against my skin. “Not so bad, is it?”
I turn to face him, our faces mere inches apart.
“Vulcan,” I breathe. The wine in my system is not helping me keep my thoughts pure.
Hell, my thoughts have been in the gutter since our dance at the gala.
I would be a liar if I said I didn’t pray we’d make it back to his place for a nightcap. But the opportunity never arose.
“Karina.” His eyes darken as they flick down to my lips. I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin, and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to close the distance between us. But my willpower is rapidly crumbling as I find myself leaning in, as if drawn by an invisible force.
Just as our lips are about to meet, my phone buzzes loudly on the table. I pull back, and just like that, the spell is broken. I grab my phone, grateful for the distraction.
Cassie: I’m at your house, where are you? This is the first time in months you’ve been out… so please tell me you’re fucking?
“Tell her yes,” Vulcan says over my shoulder, placing his hand on my bare thigh. His touch sends sparks through my body, and I struggle to form a coherent thought.
My cheeks burn. “I… I can’t tell her that.”
Vulcan’s breath is hot against my ear. “Why not? It could be true soon enough.” He nips at my earlobe.
I have had plenty of men hit on me, but this…
from him. My God! My heart pounds in my chest as I turn to face him.
His eyes are full of desire, and I find myself drowning in them.
I should push his hand away; tell him this is inappropriate. But I don’t want to.
So, I take a shaky breath and type out a reply.
Me: Out for dinner. Talk later.
Vulcan’s fingers trace lazy circles on my thigh, inching higher with each pass.
“Where were we?” he murmurs.
“I don’t know.” I lick my lips.
A slow grin spreads across his face. “I do.”
This time when he leans in, I meet him halfway. Our lips crash together, and suddenly, I’m lost in a storm of sensation. His beard scratches my jaw as his tongue teases mine, and I can’t get enough. I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.
I hope no one is paying attention to our table.
I moan into his mouth as his hand grips me tighter. Heat pools low in my belly. I lean into his touch, craving more. Sweet fucking Heavens, Karina, you are in a restaurant.
I pull away from Vulcan, gasping for air. My lips tingle from his kiss, and my body aches for more. Needing to douse myself in cold water, I check my phone again, finding a missed call.
“Ignore it,” Vulcan growls, trying to pull me back.
I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. “I can’t. It might be the hospital.” I grab the phone—it’s Cassie. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
“You know I try not to check your location, but you left me no choice.” She starts up the second I hit accept. “And you are having dinner at Jean-Georges. Bitch, that means he got money. Who is he?”
I look over at Vulcan and tell her, “A friend.”
“A friend? A friend you will be fucking tonight or a friend you will be kissing on the cheek and saying ‘we should do this again,’ knowing you won’t be doing it again?” Cassie questions.
I feel my cheeks pink at her blunt question. Vulcan raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my flustered state.
“I can’t talk about this right now,” I hiss into the phone.
“Oh my god, he’s right there, isn’t he?” Cassie squeals. “You have to tell me everything later!”
“Goodbye,” I say firmly, ending the call.
I set the phone down, avoiding Vulcan’s gaze.
“So,” he drawls, “am I the friend you’ll be fucking tonight or the one getting a chaste kiss on the cheek?”
My eyes snap to his, and I see nothing but pure, raw desire. He heard. Of course he heard. Cass doesn’t have an inside voice.
“I… I don’t know,” I stammer. I don’t remember him being this direct at the bar. I love a man who takes charge, but I don’t want him to become overbearing. That is a turn off.
Vulcan leans close, his breath hot against my ear. “I vote for option one.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and I can’t stop the small gasp that escapes my lips as his hand slides higher. I clench my thighs together, trapping his hand this time. I cannot allow him to finger me in a restaurant. I’m not that kind of woman.
“What do you say, Karina?” he murmurs. “Want to get out of here?”
“I-I have work in the morning. Raincheck?”
For a moment, I think he might push the issue. But then he leans back. “Raincheck it is,” he says. “Let me pay the bill, and I’ll drop you off at home.”
“No, that’s fine. I can take a cab.”
“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I allowed that. Nor a great husband-to-be.”
I hesitate, torn between my desire to maintain some distance and the undeniable pull I feel toward him. His intense gaze doesn’t waver, and I find myself nodding reluctantly.
“All right,” I concede, “but just a ride home.”
Vulcan’s smile widens as he signals for the check. “Of course, Dr. Reyes. Just a ride home.”
The way he says it, though, makes it clear this is far from over. As we walk out of the restaurant, his hand finds the small of my back, guiding me gently. The touch sends sparks through my body, and I have to remind myself to breathe.