Page 61 of Fair Trade
“Okay, that’s enough.” I interrupt, knowing my cheeks must be as red as a tomato. “And I don’t know when you had the time to do all of this,” I wave around the closet, “but I’m not sleeping with you. Like actually sleeping. There are more than enough rooms in this house for me to claim one as my own.”
His head is already shaking before I finish my sentence. “Sorry, but that’s not how this is going to work.”
“Oh?” I raise a threatening brow as I place my hands on my hips.
“What is rule number one about our little arrangement?”
“No one can find out.” I repeat the words his attorney drilled into us right before we signed our marriage license.
“Exactly. So what do you think would happen if one of our housekeepers or maintenance staff were to notice that the loved-up newlyweds were actually sleeping in different bedrooms, hmm? It would raise questions. Questions we can’t afford at a time where our focus is to spin the story of how we fell in lovebeforewe started working together and how our relationship was never inappropriate.”
Dammit. Our team publicist almost had a coronary when we told her we had eloped last night. And I know every important media outlet is working on overdrive, waiting for any juicy detail to offer the world besides the carefully written wedding announcement Stonehaven Media put out a few hours ago.
I know better than anyone how easy it is for stories to leak and have the full wrath of social media come at you at a moment’s notice. Isabella had a rough brush with it once, and Nick recently played a hand in making sure the tabloids wouldn’t speak ill of her again.
He protected her and Mateo’s now public relationship.
Which means he would do the same for us, and it seemed like I was going to have to play by these ridiculous rules.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. He flashes a satisfactory smile, so I continue. “But first, repeatmyrules back to me.”
His scowl automatically brings a smile to my face.
“We’re adults, Luisa. Surely we don’t have to—”
“Mr. Stonehaven, are you going back on your word?”
His hands fist at his sides and he slowly works to unfurl them. “Of course not.”
“So let me hear them.” I wave him on.
“All right, let’s see.” He sighs as he rubs his large hand over his mouth, his wedding band playing a quick round of peek-a-boo with me. “Ah, yes. I’m only allowed to touch you in public, and only for the purpose of solidifying the validity of our relationship. Kissing is okay, as long as it’s a quick peck and not overly indulgent.” He rolls his eyes, and I work to hold back my laughter. “After the year of marriage is up, you have full controlof the media narrative as to the reason for our separation. Something along the lines of: we are better suited as friends and that there is no scandal to speak of. And I’m pretty sure I’ve captured it all.”
“Nick,” I warn.
“Luisa.”
“You’re conveniently leaving out a big rule.”
“Have I? It has been a long day. I don’t know if you recall, but I got married less than twenty-four hours ago—”
“Stonehaven.”
“Fine. No sex. It’s off the table, as explicitly expressed by your wishes.”
“You know that would complicate things. We already know it wouldn’t be a one-time thing.”
“Again, I’m failing to see the problem with that,” he mutters.
I sigh, because there’s no way to explain that if I have sex with him again, I’m going to be in deep shit. Because I’ve already caught myself falling for this infuriating man. The man who is now myhusband. Add in earth-shattering sex, and I’m a goner. But this marriage will only last a year. It’s in the contract I signed. And once Nick walks out of my life and I move out of his home, I will have to go on. And it doesn’t feel smart to add walking away from a broken heart and mind-blowing sex at the same time.
So, instead, I’ve inadvertently signed us up to a year of celibacy.
I haven’t had sex since the night we met, so it’s not like I have a roster of men to clear. But I doubt Nick is holding on to the same record as me, and I have to push down the ugly green monster that threatens to choke me with jealousy.
“You promised,” I say instead.
Nick surprises me by gently grabbing my left hand and lifting it between us, the sparkly diamonds on my ring shining under the closet lights.
