New York Billionaires Series

I bury my head against his shoulder. The part of me that he’s just teased into orgasm wants to say yes to that. Three days at a hotel with him, with this, with one giant bed and bathtub and shower.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

But I don’t want to accompany him just to be available for sex. He has his job and I have mine… and sex can’t just be a perk. Another part of our deal.

It doesn’t have to mean a lot, but it has to mean something.

“Let me get this straight,” Nadine says on the other end of the phone. “You’ve slept together multiple times now. He has apologized for how he treated you as his assistant, which he should have done a long time ago, by the way, and invited you along as his sex toy at a conference.”

“Christ.”

“That’s the gist of it, right? And now you’re cooking him his favorite dinner.” Disapproval is faint in her voice, but it’s there.

“It’s a strategic move,” I say. “I’m going to tell him to sit down for dinner when he comes home, and then I’ll do what he responds well to. I’ll negotiate.”

She groans. “I do not understand the two of you and your weird fascination with playing office.”

“I never played office,” I say. “It was my actual job.”

“Remember our Introduction to Philosophy class? You made a study guide from your notes and printed copies for every single one of our classmates.”

“You illustrated the front page,” I fire back.

She laughs. “Fine, fine. So you’re going to renegotiate with St. Clair. Renegotiate what, exactly? Your marriage?”

I reach for the giant pepper shaker Bonnie keeps on the kitchen counter and add a hefty dose to the tomato sauce. “Not our marriage, really. But what we are.”

“You’re going to ask him to define the relationship.”

“I couldn’t define it myself.” I lean over the stove and breathe in the scent of pasta pomodoro. “But I want to make it clear that it can’t just be sex. Despite cooking for him tonight, I’m not going to be his convenient wife who got him his grandfather’s house and is always around when he wants to have sex. It has to be separate from the deal.”

“Hell to the yes,” she says. “How are your feelings?”

It takes me a moment to admit it. “I’m getting attached.”

“Of course you are. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t.” She pauses, and in the silence, I can hear all the things she isn’t saying.

“I know,” I say. “I’ll be careful.”

“You’re too good for him. Don’t let all his money and power and suits intimidate you.”

“I won’t,” I say. “So, you and Jake are finally going on a real date?”

“Yes… and don’t laugh, but I’m actually nervous about this one.”

“That’s a good sign! You never are. Tell me what you’re wearing?”

We’re deep into a discussion on hairstyles when I hear the front door open. “Sorry, I have to go, he’s home!”

“Good luck!”

I tuck my headphones into the pocket of my yoga pants and turn around, leaning against the counter. His footsteps echo on the hardwood floor.

Victor stops in the entryway, eyes moving from me to the empty kitchen. No Bonnie. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

A slow curve to his lips. “You’re alone.”

“I am. I decided to cook dinner for us.”

He puts down his briefcase and undoes the button of his suit jacket. “Any particular reason?”

“Not really,” I say. “Want something to drink?”

His eyes search mine, but then he nods. “Yes. I’ll get it for us. Wine?”

He passes by me, and then, as if he catches himself, he stops to press a kiss to my temple. The affectionate touch sends heat to my cheeks.

“I looked at the numbers you sent me today,” he says, opening a wine bottle.

“Oh? What did you think?”

“Much better. The lower overhead will handle slower, but more sustainable growth.” He sits down at the kitchen table, eyes on me. “You’re ready to put the plan into motion.”

Excited nerves flutter through my stomach. “I think so too.”

“Carter offered, and I wouldn’t be doing my job as mentor if I didn’t bring it up again,” Victor says. He looks down at his glass of wine, jaw working. “If you put a proposal together I can forward it to Carter. He’s on the lookout for more start-ups to invest in.”

“Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“Investment would get you off the ground faster. He has a network and connections you could use.”

“I sense a but here somewhere.”

His eyes meet mine. “But I’d rather it was me investing.”

My heart is pounding in my chest. “If I let you, though, we’d only be mixing business and pleasure even more than we already have.”

“I’m aware of that,” he says, voice dry. “It’s a bad idea.”

I turn off the stove and keep my eyes on the food I’m plating. “As bad as the two of us sleeping together?”

“No,” he admits. “That’s probably worse.”

His honesty makes me smile. For better or for worse, Victor always gives it to you straight. I put down our plates and accept the glass of wine he hands me in exchange. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you. Did Bonnie prepare this?”

“I made it from scratch.” His housekeeper hadn’t objected at all when I said I wanted to cook dinner for the two of us. She’d smiled, actually, in a way that was a tad too knowing.