19

"So," he starts after messing around on his phone. He places the device back into his pants pocket and sits down next to me. The mattress dips, shifting under his weight, his cologne invading every one of my senses. I almost want to take a deeper breath to savor it. But I don't. I don't want to be that creep. "I think it's about time you tell me about this fire, don't you? What the hell are you up to, because when you first mentioned it, your eyes looked like they'd come alive again."

My heart thumps, and thumps nauseatingly loud inside my head. I don't count because I'm sure it would make me dizzy.

"I…" I sigh, shifting on the bed. All my attention is going to my hands, glaring as my eyes meet the wedding set that's been etched into my ring finger. It's huge, and an eyesore, not at all the beautiful jewel it used to be when Alistair proposed to me.

"Yes?" Masen's voice is a low rumble, as if he already knows what I'm about to say.

"I w—wanted to fight fire with fire…give him a taste of his own medicine." I'm not even sure how I managed to get those words out. I'm almost choking on them as they leave as aftertaste on my tongue. I can't believe I'm saying this out loud.

"You want to have an affair?" Masen asks softly. "A public affair?"

I watch him blink a few times before I talk again.

"No, not like that." I shake my head, but Masen just looks more confused. Until he doesn't, and the pieces of the puzzles sort of click for him. His jade eyes widen, and his mouth drops open a tad, an adorable and uncharacteristic noise leaves his lips.

"You…" he starts. "Y—you want to make a tape." It's more of a statement than a question but he hits the nail right on the head.

I feel ashamed, the heat in my cheeks doing all the answering for me. I can hear Masen take in a breath but I refuse to look at him. I feel too crazy about thinking shit like this to face him.

The silence is deafening. It seems like the party in the next room has ended, too. At least that nauseating display of Alistair being a shit husband has stopped.

"It would be a fake tape," I say. "You know…suggestive?" I've seen enough movies and follow enough photographers on my Instagram to know that it's possible to imply full nudity and fake intimacy in just a few shots.

"What exactly would that give you?" Masen asks, frowning. "A death threat? Some more bruises?" When he arches a brow and inspects my wrist, moving away my bracelets, he's got that intense look on his face again. That anger. But it's not directed at me.

I shrug.

"Yeah, it's stupid." I bite my lip. "But I just don't know how to get out at this point. You see how far my little attempt at escaping got me the last time…"

"Don't you think it's a bit ironic, darling?" His voice drops, his face relaxing under my gaze.

"What is?"

"You know…that the guy he hired to keep tabs on the wife ends up saving her from him?" God, his voice like this is so erotic, this room is too much of a plush bubble. It sends thoughts into my head that I haven't entertained in ages.

"Do you really think I need saving, Masen?"

"I think you need someone on your side. A push in the right direction…someone in your corner, always." He shrugs as if what he's saying is nothing major.

I feel a tear burning a hole into the corner of my eye.

"Hey," he whispers, his thumb reaching out. "Don't cry over him, he doesn't deserve your tears."

"That's not for him," I admit, not daring to move. Masen is touching me and I don't flinch. I don't run. No, I lean in like a feral kitten who has finally learned not all people are bad.

"I…" he sighs, pulling away. But I don't let him, covering the back of his hand with my palm, basking in the heat of his skin on mine.

Baby steps. For years I've loathed the touch of a man. And now? God, I wish he'd touch me more.

"You're in my corner, then?" I ask quietly, unable to look away.

"I'll be in all four of your corners if you'd let me." His voice is gravely and sexy and all dark masculine energy engulfs me. I welcome it, with both hands.

Then I do something else I thought I'd forgotten how to do. I flirt.

"What if I want you in other places, too?"

He laughs, full and beautifully.

"Like in a fake tape with you?"

My heart skips a beat as I try to not go there in my mind.

"How about you buy me dinner, first?" I retort.

Another laugh. Masen looks so young like this, careless and just gloriously handsome. As if the shadows have lifted.

I hadn't even noticed we were moving closer, that his hand is still on my cheek and his eyes sparkle and show me flecks of gold from up close like this.

"Okay," he breathes. "Room service?"

My eyes widen. I nod without question.

"Great," he smiles. "It's a date."

I haven't heard that word in forever. And instead of running for the hills, I embrace this feeling.

"Wait," I say suddenly. "I…"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to be here…in his place, with you. I don't want that."

"You want me to leave, Mrs. Anderson?" Masen moves back, and it honestly aches.

"No!" I say a bit too quickly. "It's the hotel I want gone, not you. I don't want this environment tainting this." I wave between the two of us, making him smile.

"This?" Masen asks, eyes smoldering.

I decide to be brave. For once.

"You asked me on a date." I arch a cocky brow. "I don't want a date in the place where I just heard my husband fuck his misstress through the fucking wall."

Masen licks his lips.

"Well, fuck," he chuckles, his eyes crinkling by the corners. "I can't say no to that."

"But where could we go? It's…kinda dangerous, darling. You do know that you're in the public eye, right? Do you really want to take that chance?"

"We can't be seen like…together, but we can be seen together. You know?" I rattle off.

"I still have my apartment."

My heart beats ferociously. I can't believe I'm doing this. It feels like cheating even though I haven't done anything wrong.

"Okay."

I swear no man has ever looked so beautiful.