Chapter 21
BLAKE
It’s six-fifty when Danielle walks—no—glides down the stairs.
She’s wearing a short black dress with mesh arms and neckline—somehow making the visible flesh of her décolletage seemingly forbidden.
The black material clings to her body, and the fuck-me heels she’s wearing send blood rushing straight to my dick.
That’s before I even look at her face.
Smokey black makeup makes her emerald eyes pop, and her glossy nude lips beg for my dick in between them.
Her hair is begging to be wrapped in my fist; the platinum waves a stark contrast to the black dress.
“Stop staring, James.” Danielle strides over to me, lacing her arm through mine.
“Can we stay in?” I whisper, reaching up to cup her face in my hand.
Danielle laughs, and something in my stomach twists, commanding me to drop my lips to hers.
Danielle stiffens, but her eyes meet mine, allowing me to nod gently. A smile plays at her lips, and she tilts her head to the side as she studies me.
“No, Blake, we can’t. I’m starving.”
“Fine,” I say with a groan, dropping my lips to her hand. The plain wedding band she’s wearing catches my eye, and I wonder if it would be enough to divert my attention from her if I saw her tonight.
But then, I wouldn’t give a fuck if she was married or not.
“Where are we going?” Danielle asks, tugging her hand from mine.
I’m trying not to stare at her, but I’m failing massively.
“Huh?”
Danielle frowns, waving a hand in front of my face. “Are you okay?”
No, I’m not. I’m obsessed with you.
“The Chateau,” I mumble, mentally slapping myself.
I lead the way to the car, feeling her eyes on me.
Good.
How am I supposed to concentrate?
“Ooh, nice.”
We ride to the restaurant in silence, but we keep stealing glances at one another throughout.
Why did I ever leave her?
How was it possible though, that I’d met my dream girl at the age of twenty?
It wasn’t.
“What are you thinking about?” Danielle interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to find her gazing at me, her hands resting in her lap.
“You and me,” I confess with a shrug.
She looks taken aback, but I don’t elaborate.
She knows we have the best sex either of us has ever had—but a relationship is so much more than lust.
And I don’t know if I have anything more to give.
“Well, we’ve certainly complicated things with the sex.” Danielle stares out the window, exhaling heavily. “We should have boundaries because we can’t control ourselves.”
Boundaries?
“Like what?” I frown, my hand moving instinctively to her thigh.
“Blake,” she moans, placing her hand over mine. “You can’t keep doing that every time we try to have a conversation about reality.”
Chewing on my lip, I squeeze her thigh softly. “Hmm?”
“Boundaries.” Danielle clamps her hand over mine, moving it back to my side firmly.
“Okay, like we only fuck between office hours? That kinda thing?”
Danielle rolls her eyes, and I chuckle.
She’s so alpha.
I love it.
“As in, if we fuck, we acknowledge there are no feelings. Because you lied today, when you said it was more than sex. I let you off because I wanted it too.”
The car slows, and the driver opens her door, helping me delay my answer.
I’m glad because the answer in my mouth is not the one she needs to hear.
Because it’s bullshit.
I climb out of the car, lacing my fingers through hers as she smiles.
“You are so beautiful,” I whisper, hoping she doesn’t bring up feelings and emotions again.
“Thank you,” she whispers back, standing on tiptoe to press her mouth against mine.
I wonder what’s come over her, but then I hear my name being called from the press that always surrounds The Chateau.
She’s just playing her role, and that disappoints me more than it should.
Breaking the kiss, I give her a faint smile. Striding toward the entrance, still holding her hand, I give a dazzling smile to the press.
“Isn’t my wife beautiful?”
Danielle flushes, dipping her head as we enter the restaurant, air conditioning greeting us.
We’re soon seated, and Danielle doesn’t seem too fazed by the chandeliers and champagne surrounding us.
The chateau doesn’t serve many other drinks.
“A bottle of champagne, the best you have,” I instruct the server as he offers me a drinks menu.
Danielle purses her lips together, smiling at the waiter. “And I’ll have sparkling water, please.”
The waiter gives a subtle nod and leaves the food menu beside us.
“Water?” I ask, my eyes scanning the food menu. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” I’d not even given contraception a second thought.
“Don’t be absurd.” Danielle examines the menu, and I stare at her.
“Why is that absurd?”
“Why on earth would you assume I’m not taking precautions?”
“Other than the fact every time we’ve fucked, I’ve been bare, you mean?” I shoot back, just as the server arrives with the drinks.
Danielle colors, biting her lip as she mumbles a thank you to the server.
“Blake!” she hisses, her eyes darting around us. “Can you rein it in a little?”
I snort, lifting the flute to my lips. “I’ll say what I like; I’m paying good money to be here.”
Danielle glares at me, lowering her menu. “So? I don’t think that server is paid enough to hear about our sex life.”
I smirk, and she puts up a hand, silencing me.
“You’re like a child.”
“Oh, am I?”
“This is ridiculous. Just behave.” Danielle scowls at me, closing her menu. “I know what I want.”
“I know what you need,” I snap, pissed with her attitude. “Bending over my knee.”
Danielle laughs, and just like that, I’m a mess again. “You wish, Blake.”
The image of Danielle bent over my knee in the restaurant with a bright red ass fills my mind, and I have to close my eyes.
This fucking woman.
“Don’t tempt me,” I warn, nodding at the champagne. “Try it.”
“Then dinner, right?” Danielle arches a brow, sipping on her flute of champagne. “Mm, that’s good.”
I examine the bottle, pleased she likes it. “It’s vintage.”
Danielle nods. “Thank you.”
Her gratitude catches me off guard. “For what?”
“The champagne. I know it won’t be cheap.” Danielle clears her throat, smiling as the server returns.
Somehow, I manage to get my order out of my mouth, but I’m still stuck on her sweetness.
I’ve brought women here before, and not once had they thanked me halfway through the date.
“Danielle, you don’t have to thank me. You’re doing me a favor, remember?” I remind her gently, reaching out to touch her fingers.
“I know that,” Danielle replies, moving her hand back. “But it feels a little strange.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know, since we blurred the lines. Sex wasn’t part of the contract.”
This again.
“Do you want me to formally add it?” I offer, and she shakes her head.
“You know what I mean. You broke me once, Blake, I won’t let you do it again.”
Shit.
“I know, and I’m sorry. Look, why don’t we agree that we do this together, but also admit we’re attracted to one another?”
Danielle lifts her eyes to mine, and I notice a man passing by checking her out.
Fucker.
“You can do this without emotion, without feelings?” Danielle sips her champagne again, but pauses, downing it in one as I stare at her in surprise.
“Uh, no, not entirely without emotion, I’m not a robot.” I refill her champagne, and Danielle nods.
“Is there a chance you could fall in love with me?” Danielle asks, her eyes locking onto mine.
I can’t lie. Not to her. “Yes.”
She almost chokes on her champagne, and I can’t help but grin.
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, Danni. It’s entirely possible that I will fall for you again.”
“But we’ve got a fake marriage!” Danielle’s eyes are like saucers, her head bent down to whisper at me across the table.
“I know that.”
“So, we have to remember that. We can’t fall for one another again.”
“Are you falling for me, Danni?” I inquire, lacing my fingers with hers. “Because it’s okay if you are. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Danielle looks like she’s going to cry, and a lump forms in my own throat.
“You and Issac…it killed me,” I admit, watching as she tries not to blink her tears away. “And I know I can’t promise you anything, because of who I am.”
“Why?” Danielle whispers, finally releasing the tears that roll down her cheeks slowly. “Who are you?”
“I’m a heartbreaker, Danielle. I did it to you once, and I never want to do it again.”
Danielle sucks in a breath, sitting back as our meals arrive.
The rich aroma of delicious food fills my nostrils, but all I can see is Danielle crying silently.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, but only for five years. I can’t promise anything after that,” I confide, knowing it’s true.
The company means too much for me to lose it, and I’ve already hurt Danielle once.
Committing to one woman for the rest of my life, no matter how spectacular she is, isn’t something I can do.
“So, you want me, but only for five years?” Danielle clarifies bitterly, poking at her food with her fork.
“I can’t promise anything else,” I explain again, knowing my words are harsh. “But I’ll fucking try.”
That's all I can do.