Page 57 of The Exception

She lifted a shoulder. “You’d do the same for me.”

“I would. Absolutely.” I’d do anything for my best friend, and I was glad she knew it.

I closed the door softly behind her, sagging against it with a smile on my face. What a day. What a week.

I took off my shoes, and they dangled from my fingers as I wound my way through the penthouse. Everything was immaculate once more—the staff had been very efficient at cleaning up. The only things that remained were the flower arrangements that had lined the dining table, but they’d been scattered throughout the penthouse.

The aisle, the arch, everything else had vanished. Almost as if it had never even happened. But the ring on my finger said otherwise.

How nice it would be to put the Huxley staff to work at the château. Projects that usually took weeks would be accomplished in hours.

Graham was nowhere to be seen, so I ventured down the hall toward his office. I rapped my knuckles lightly on the door before entering. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He lifted his head from his laptop. He’d removed his jacket and tie, and his hair was wild, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. “Did you need something?”

“I, um—” I gnawed my bottom lip. “I just wondered if you wanted to share a drink.”

“I need to take care of some things before we leave for France.”

Oh.

“Right.” I hoped my face didn’t show the warmth creeping across my cheeks and down my neck. “Of course. I get it. You’re busy.”And this isn’t a real marriage.

He returned his attention to his screen, practically dismissing me. I slipped back out of his office, closing the door softly behind me.

Stupid.Stupid. Stupid. I padded down the hall to my bedroom, tossing my shoes on the carpet.

I didn’t know why I was so surprised that he had immediately gone back to work. I guess I’d just hoped…

Hoped what? That he’d want to spend time together?

Yes, this was a business arrangement. A marriage in name only. He wanted something from me, and I needed something from him. But our relationship didn’t always have to be solely about business, did it?

It was our wedding night. I was hiswife.His fake wife, yes. But even so, I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at how quickly he’d gone back to business as usual.

He’d have drinks to celebrate closing a business deal, wouldn’t he? Why should this be any different?

I huffed, annoyed with myself. It shouldn’t matter. Itdidn’tmatter.

I reached for the zipper. I twisted and tried to turn the material, but it wouldn’t budge. The more I tried, the more I resembled a dog chasing its tail. Until I was panting and my cheeks were red.

I huffed and headed back down the hall to Graham’s office. I stood there trying to compose myself. Trying to work up the nerve to knock again.

“Yes?” he asked, irritation creeping into his tone.

I entered the room, noting the glass of whiskey beside him. So, he’d wanted a drink; he just didn’t want to share one with me.Awesome.

I guessed now that the negotiations were over and the deal was done, he no longer felt the need to be charming. To pretend. At least, so long as we were alone.

“Can you help me with my dress?” I asked.

He stood and rounded the desk, stalking toward me like a panther. All sleek lines, power, and grace. He was elegant and intimidating—and hot.

“Spin.”

I turned so my back was to him. He gripped the fabric and tugged the zipper down, the sound of the teeth hissing as he took it lower and lower still. One of the straps slipped from my shoulder, sliding down over my skin. I clutched the front of my dress to my chest so it wouldn’t dip even lower.

Graham was silent, and a heavy tension filled the air. I could feel his eyes on my skin, perhaps noticing my lack of undergarments. Or maybe just aggravated by the interruption. Who knew. With him, it was often impossible to tell what he was thinking.

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