Page 33 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

She follows without protest as I lead her to the dance floor. Her body is stiff as I pull her close, one hand on her waist, the other holding hers.

“Relax,” I say quietly. “Everyone’s watching.”

She exhales slowly and moves closer, her body gradually softening against mine. “Like this?”

“Better.”

We move together to the music, and for a brief moment, it almost feels real. The warmth of her body, the scent of her perfume, the way she fits against me. If things were different...

“Day after tomorrow,” she says suddenly, her voice low.

I blink, pulled from my thoughts. “What?”

“Clause 7b. Day Two. That’s the day after tomorrow.”

Jesus. She’s thinking about it too.

“Having second thoughts?” I ask, keeping my voice casual despite the sudden tightness in my chest.

She looks up at me, her expression unreadable. “No. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

Before I can respond, Marco appears beside us. “Mind if I cut in?”

Every instinct tells me to refuse, but that would look strange. I force a smile and step back. “She’s all yours.”

I watch as Marco leads Tatiana in a dance, his hand resting on the small of her back where mine had been just moments ago.

The seconds tick past, and I find my unease growing. A minute goes by.

Suddenly he leans close to say something, and she laughs.

Something hot and possessive surges through me, taking me by surprise.

What the fuck is that about? She’s not really my wife. This is business.

But business or not, I find myself striding across the dance floor and interrupting their dance.

“Sorry to cut this short,” I say smoothly, “but we have a plane to catch.”

Marco gives me a knowing look. “Can’t keep the newlyweds apart for long, I see.”

I place my hand possessively on Tatiana’s back. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

Tatiana gives me a questioning look but plays along. “It’s been quite the weekend.”

We say our goodbyes quickly, and I guide her out with perhaps more haste than necessary.

In the limo, she calls her friend Sabrina, assuring her they’ll meet soon in New York. I watch her, noticing the way she carefully edits the truth for her friend’s benefit. Or perhaps mine... I have the distinct impression her friend knows more than Tatiana is pretending to let on.

When we reach the airport, Jake and the team guide us through the private terminal. The engines of my G650 are already running, the stairs down and waiting.

As we settle into the plush leather seats, I turn to Tatiana. “One more thing. As my wife, even under these... circumstances, you require protection. Standard protocol given my profile. Jake will assign a small detail to you starting tomorrow in New York. They’ll be discreet, but they will be there. Non-negotiable.”

She studies me for a moment. “Are you actually concerned for my safety, or is this about control?”

“Both,” I admit. “My life comes with risks. And yes, I prefer knowing where you are and that you’re safe. It’s part of the deal now.”

She nods slowly. “Fine. But they better be good at keeping their distance. I don’t need shadows following me into the ladies’ room.”

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