Page 31 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

I couldn’t look away from Claire. Her defiance, her strength. She was burning so bright I could barely stand it.

But she didn’t bask in the moment. The second her sister was gone, she let out a long breath, pressing her fingers to her temples. I recognized that gesture. I’d seen it at the office, after she’d signed my proposal, the weight of her decision – and the consequences - hitting her all at once.

I shouldn’t have said anything. I should’ve left her to collect herself. But when she looked up, her eyes meeting mine with some unreadable mix of defiance and vulnerability, I was lost.

"That was interesting." My voice was even, unaffected as always.

"It was necessary." Her response was immediate. Confident. A challenge. She was unlike anyone I’d ever known.

I watched her for a beat too long, feeling something shift between us—something inevitable, something I couldn’t put words to but couldn’t ignore anymore.

And I was done for. I made my way to her, pulling her into my arms, offering the comfort she’d melted me with several times.

Her arms slowly looped around my shoulders, but I was more concerned with my body’s reaction to her… and her noticing. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted a woman, and she was more off limits than any I’d been interested in.

For one second, I imagined what it would be like to lose myself in that need. In her.

“Alexander…” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“We have a problem.”

Chapter Nine

Claire

We have a problem.

He hadn’t asked me what I meant, and we were still tangled up in each other’s arms.

The encounter with Jen was still fire in my veins, and the sense that I didn’t have to give her everything she wanted felt like a new kind of freedom.

His embrace should have steadied me, should’ve calmed my restless heartbeat. But he was too warm, too solid, too close. This was not allowed. This was not what I signed up for. But I didn’t let go.

Jen’s anger had me spinning. The way her face twisted, all venom and disbelief when I told her she couldn’t have another one of the gifts Alexander bought for me. The horrible silence in the room after I said no. Was this what it felt like to stand up for myself? For a second, I thought my insides were catching fire. But then the hurt and accusation in her eyes twisted everything back to the way it always was. Or maybe I needed more time to get used to not being taken advantage of, a small voice whispered within me.

Maybe Jen was right, and I was the selfish one. Maybe being with Alexander was turning me into a different person. I almost wanted to call her to apologize, to say she could take the bag, take anything, just don’t look at me like that again.

But I wouldn’t. Not this time. I tried to be proud of myself, but every second felt like my decision was tearing something out of me. Too many things—guilt, doubt, fear—stacked on top of each other, threatened to crush me.

But the way he was holding me… my body was acting before my mind could catch up.

“Claire,” he said, arms solid and immovable around me.

The warmth of his body sank into me, overwhelming and unexpected. This was supposed to be a contract, not an embrace. But I couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. My pulse thumped like bass in my ears. I should have moved. But I didn’t. And neither did he.

Everything else fell away—the encounter with my ex-boss, the strange tension I didn’t understand at Alexander’s family dinners, Jen’s accusations, the way my family seemed to want me to provide everything – okay, maybe that one wasn’t fair. The pressure I put on myself. I should be panicking. This should worry me, the way I was clinging to him like he was the only thing that could stop me from drowning. Like his belief in me was the only thing keeping me from failing completely.

But was I failing? Hadn’t I done everything to help my family, even to my own detriment? I would never have signed the contract with Alexander if I wasn’t taking care of literally everyone else. A contract I now know will cost me a lot more than I ever could have anticipated.

It was almost comforting how quiet he was. Almost. I should have known by now that the silence wasn’t a relief, but awarning. I held my breath, bracing for the shift when he finally spoke. But the only thing that moved was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, finally breaking the stillness. My voice sounded too loud in the silence, too unsteady.

“Do what?” He sounded genuinely confused. His voice was low, calm. He wasn’t trying to pull away.

“Comfort me. It’s not part of the contract,” I whispered, unsure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

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