Page 14 of Adonis: The Cost of a Billionaire's Heart
We changed outfits and moved through the penthouse, wearing different clothes and taking various poses in different settings—the kitchen where Adonis stood behind me with his arms around my small waist, on the terrace where we gazed out at the city skyline, in his home office where I perched on the edge of his desk while he looked up at me. With each setup, the poses became more intimate, more couple-like, and I found myself having to remind my racing heart that none of it was real. Yeah, I was wearing his ring, but I wasn’t going to be his missus.
“Just a few more,” Greta promised after nearly an hour of snapping photo after photo. “We need one good kissing shot for the social media rollout.”
My stomach plummeted to my feet. Kissing wasn’t explicitly covered in the contract, though public displays of affection were mentioned in general terms. I glanced at Adonis, trying to gauge his reaction.
His expression was carefully neutral as he trained his eyes on Greta. “Is that necessary?”
“Absolutely,” Greta insisted. “Nothing says ‘engaged’ like a romantic kiss. It doesn’t have to be a make-out session—just visibly affectionate. Oh, and I want you to hold your hand out over his shoulder so that we can get a good visual of that gorgeous ring.”
Adonis turned to me, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Are you comfortable with this?”
I appreciated that he’d asked, even if we both knew I didn’t have a choice. The whole charade would fall apart if we couldn’t convince people we were in love.
“It’s fine,” I answered, my voice steadier than I felt. “It’s just for the photos.”
He nodded, his eyes searching mine for a moment before he guided me toward the terrace doors, where the last light of sunset created a perfect backdrop. He positioned us so myback was to the windows, and the golden glow highlighted his handsome melanated face.
“I’ll make it quick,” he murmured, flashing his grand piano of a smile at me before his hands came to rest lightly against the small of my back.
I placed my hands on his hard chest, feeling the solid warmth of him and the thumping of his heartbeat through his sweater, and eyeing the tattoos on his neck. His heartbeat was strong and steady under my palm, opposite of the nervousness that I felt.
“Ready?” Greta called out.
Adonis’s eyes locked with mine, asking a silent question. I ushered a slight nod, and he bent his head toward mine, one hand moving to cradle my face gently. I briefly caught our reflection in the terrace doors. I saw myself wrapped in his muscular arms as he lovingly embraced me. And the way he stared at me? It was like I was his addiction. No other man had ever made me feel like that before.
Our lips met softly, timidly. It was meant to be just for show, just a pose for the camera, but the moment his mouth touched mine, something unexpected happened. A spark—warm and electric—raced through me, and I felt Adonis’s slight intake of breath against my lips. His hand tightened almost gradually on my waist, drawing me in a fraction closer.
The kiss deepened, only slightly, but just enough that it no longer felt entirely manufactured. His lips were firm but gentle, his touch careful, as if I might break under this grasp or run away. I found myself responding, my fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater while the other hand showed off the ring.
The click of Greta’s camera seemed far away as Adonis pulled back slowly, his eyes darker than before. We stared at each other for a moment, both seemingly startled by what had just happened.
“Breathtaking,” Greta declared, breaking the spell between us. “That’s exactly what we needed. The chemistry between you two is so gorgeous on camera. I can’t wait for you two to see some of these shots.”
Chemistry. Is that what that was? I stepped back from Adonis, needing some space to regain my composure. He cleared his throat, turning to Greta with his professional mask firmly back in place.
“Is that everything you need?” he questioned, taking a few steps away from me.
“Yes, I’ve got plenty to work with,” she confirmed, already reviewing the shots on her camera. “I’ll have the edited images to your team tonight, backdated and ready for posting as we discussed.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Greta.”
After she left, an awkward silence fell between us. I wasn’t sure what to say about what had just happened. It was just a kiss for the cameras. It didn’t mean anything. But my lips and body still tingled all over, and I couldn’t quite meet Adonis’s eyes with the same ease as I had before.
“I should check on Mason,” I said finally.
“Of course.” Adonis seemed just as eager to move past the moment as I was. “We have an early morning tomorrow. The stylist will be here at seven to begin your hair and makeup for the first meeting with Garrick’s advance team.”
“Right,” I said, starting my stroll toward the hallway, then paused. “Adonis?”
He looked up, his expression guarded. “Yeah?”
“That kiss . . . it was convincing, right? For the photos?”
Something flashed in his eyes—uncertainty, possibly. But it was quickly traded by his usual cool detachment.
“Very convincing,” he responded evenly. “You’re quite good at this.”
“So are you,” I replied, unsure if I was complimenting his acting skills or acknowledging something else entirely.
