Page 14 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

"Anne of Green Gables," she said softly, running her fingers over the cover like it was made of spun gold. "I haven’t seen this since I was a kid."

Her reaction was disproportionate to the effort I'd put in, and it made me unreasonably pleased. I found myself smirking, and that was unacceptable.

"I thought you'd appreciate it more than a bouquet of flowers," I said, aiming for nonchalance but failing.

Her smile was dazzling, a burst of light in the dark corners of my intentions. "Thank you, Alexander. Really."

The sincerity in her voice chipped away at my defenses, and I shifted my stance, uncomfortable with the warmth between us. "There's more," I said, placing a card next to the book. "Take it. Use it."

Claire picked up the card, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What's this?"

"It's a card," I said, deadpan. "You buy things with it. Clothes, shoes, whatever you need."

She looked at me, speechless, the shock written all over her face. I'd seen a similar look on men who walked into boardrooms thinking they could beat me.

"Your wardrobe," I said, clearing my throat. "You'll need to... adjust. To fit in better." Look at me, being delicate around her feelings.

Her surprise was starting to chip at my resolve, so I pushed on. "I've hired someone to help," I added, trying to maintain the upper hand in a situation that felt more and more out of control. "A stylist. They'll come tomorrow."

Her mouth opened, but words seemed to elude her.

I took the opportunity to regain some footing. "Don't look so stunned," I said, my tone half-sarcastic. "It's purely for practical reasons."

She blinked, processing. "I just—I don’t know what to say."

"Then don’t say anything," I said, more harshly than intended. This was new territory for both of us, and I didn't like it. Not at all.

I watched her, uncertain and grateful, clutching the book like it was a lifeline. The depth of her appreciation shook me more than I'd ever admit.

Leaving her there, I forced myself to retreat into the sanctuary of my office, where I could convince myself I was still in control of something—anything.

Her presence was a distraction, an unscripted line in the script of my life, a script I thought I'd written myself. It was becoming increasingly clear: I wasn't as prepared for Claire as I believed.

Chapter Five

Claire

The frustration in Alexander’s voice struck the door with such force that I expected it to splinter at the hinges under mere sound along.

“Ridiculous.” He snapped the single word like firing a bullet from a gun, and I imagined the icy fury in his eyes, the set of his jaw.

I hadn’t meant to overhear him. I should have slipped away, let him wrestle with whatever this was alone. But instead, I lingered, his tension sparking a restless urge inside me.

My pulse quickened with each clipped word. The board members were livid, and with every breath he took, I felt the distance between us shrink. He needed a solution.

“Just speculation.” The words sounded as bitter as they tasted, I was certain. My hand gripped the doorframe, my heart stumbling over the decision to stay. He didn’t know I was there. Didn’t know how close I was to stepping into his anger, risking the backlash. It wasn’t my place to interfere. I should walk away. I should—

“I’ll handle it,” Alexander said, the promise dark and fierce, yet I caught something else there too—a strain I’d neverheard before. The sound tugged at something buried inside me, coaxing it to the surface.

My body moved forward before I could stop it, and I was standing at the edge of his world, so close I could feel the heat of his frustration and something else beneath it.

My voice came out small, swallowed by the space between us. “I can help.”

Alexander’s eyes snapped to mine, blue and piercing, cutting through the air like a blade. He was silent, processing my intrusion, weighing it against his anger. I held my breath, every second stretching longer than the last, waiting for him to send me away or ignore me entirely.

“How?” His tone was sharper than the word itself, both skeptical and demanding, but there was something else, too—a curiosity that shouldn’t have been there. Did Alexander Reed really wantmyopinion? My idea?

I swallowed, feeling the heat in my cheeks, unsure if it was embarrassment or something I wouldn’t let myself name as he studied me like I was the only other human in existence. “If we start being seen in baby boutiques, it might help the rumors regarding our marriage.” I held his gaze, well aware of the person on the other end of the call who might be able to hear me. “You know, since we’re trying to start our family anyway.”

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