Page 32 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

But the way he looked at me—the same way he did when he closed the distance between us to hold me, the way he took my side without hesitation—made my heart lurch. Made me question everything I thought I knew about this arrangement, about him, about myself.

It was hard to reconcile the feeling of his arms around me with the man who said this was strictly business. Harder still to ignore how much I liked it. This didn’t feel like business.

He finally shifted, just slightly, like he might let me go. My breath caught, but my arms stayed locked in place.

Instead of releasing me, he held me tighter.

“That’s the second time today you’ve surprised me, Claire,” he said, a strange note in his voice.

My chest fluttered. Surprised. I surprised him. Did that mean I mattered to him? More than just a piece in his plan?

The thought should have been comforting, but it made me uneasy. If I let myself believe that, how would I ever go back to being the Claire who knew exactly where she stood? The Claire who didn’t need anyone’s approval or help? The Claire who could walk away from this arrangement with nothing more thana healthy bank account and the satisfaction of knowing she put her family first?

“You’re quiet,” I said, breaking the silence.

“Does it bother you?” he asked, but the hint of a smile in his voice told me he already knew the answer.

Yes, I wanted to say. Because when he was quiet, I had too much room to think. Too much space to feel.

His hand skimmed up my back, light as a whisper. I was hyperaware of every part of us that touched, every breath, every bit of building desire and excitement within me.

“I’m proud of you. You stood up to Jen,” he said, and there was something in his voice I couldn’t quite place. Admiration? Surprise? I had no idea why his opinion mattered so much to me. But it did. It really, really did.

“It didn’t feel as good as it should have,” I said. “I thought...”

I thought it would make me stronger. I thought I’d feel like a different person, a better person, for saying no. For once.

“It takes time,” he said, and his breath was warm against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

My heart did something stupid and reckless and uneven. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“That I—” But the words caught in my throat, and all I could do was exhale. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say.

Did it bother him that I clung to him like this? Did it bother him that I wanted more than a contract, more than the cold comfort of an arrangement where neither of us got hurt?

He shifted again, and this time I was sure he’d step back. Let me go. But instead, he angled his head and dipped it toward mine.

“Claire,” he said. Just my name, but there was so much more to his tone. Too much.

He was going to say something that would ruin the moment. He was going to remind me what this was, what it wasn’t. He was going to tell me that I was foolish for believing, even for a second, that he cared.

But none of that happened.

He said nothing further, but the warmth of his body made my limbs feel heavy, made everything else feel distant and far away, unimportant, even.

He finally loosened his hold, just enough for me to slip away if I wanted to. I should have. I knew I should have.

But instead, I tightened my grip, and his breath caught. His jaw tensed. The thud of his heart slowed and then picked up again, dragging mine with it.

“You’re stronger than you think, Claire,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

If only he knew how weak I wanted to be right now, to give into this pull inside, the one that wanted us to be this close with no barriers between us or concerns about a contract. I wanted him.All of him.

Instead, I clung to him as though I could hold on forever.

I should have run, gone home, anything to escape him. The heat in Alexander’s gaze should have sent me screaming for the hills, should have knocked me loose and kept me from doing anything irreversible.

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