Page 153 of Toxic Temptation
“You needed more than a distraction,” he interrupts. “You needed someone to remind you that you’re not alone in this.”
The gentleness in his voice nearly undoes me. “You don’t have to do anything crazy for me, Kovan. I know this is just part of our deal.”
His face darkens. “Right. Our deal.”
And just like that, the warmth between us evaporates.
Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? A business arrangement. I’m helping him get custody of Luka, and he’s helping me deal with Jeremy. Everything else—the way he held me, the way he whispered my name, the way my body responded to his like we were made for each other—it’s all just collateral damage.
I pull the sheet tighter around myself, suddenly cold. “I should probably get some actual sleep,” I say.
“Yeah. You should.”
But neither of us moves. We just sit there in the aftermath of something that felt real but apparently wasn’t.
At least not for him.
“Vesper—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“It’s fine. Really. We both got what we needed from this.”
It’s a bitter, empty lie, but it’s easier than admitting the truth—that somewhere in those four hours, I forgot this was supposed to be meaningless. I forgot this wasn’t supposed to change anything.
But it has.
Everything has changed.
And I’m terrified that I’m the only one who feels it.
53
KOVAN
I slide the small box of Plan B across the kitchen counter toward her. “Here. For you.”
The furrow between Vesper’s eyebrows deepens. She picks up the box like it might explode. “You realize I’m a doctor, right? I can prescribe myself whatever I need.”
“This isn’t about what you can do. It’s about what I should do.” I lean against the counter, watching her process this. “I’m the one who came inside you, so I’m the one who handles the consequences.”
Her face flames red. She glances toward the stairs, listening for any sign of Luka. Then she turns back to me and hisses, “Could you not say things like that where he might hear?”
“He’s still asleep. And why should I bother? You weren’t worried about being quiet last night.”
The blush spreads down her neck. She opens the box with shaking hands. “Last night was a mistake. We agreed it meant nothing.”
“Did we?” I move closer, trapping her against the counter. “Because I don’t remember agreeing to anything of the sort.”
She swallows the pill dry, then meets my eyes. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the rules changed the moment you fell apart on my tongue.” Her breath catches. “We’re both adults. We both have needs. No reason we can’t help each other out while this arrangement lasts.”
“That will complicate things.”
“How? We both know this ends when I get custody and you save your hospital. Nothing has to change—except we get to have incredible sex until then.”
She stares at me for a long moment. I can see the war happening behind her eyes—the careful, controlled doctor fighting against the woman who screamed my name four times last night.
“Just sex,” she says finally. “Nothing else changes.”
