TWENTY TWO

Ronan

My hand still smells like pussy.

Her pussy.

That's the only thing I can think about as I pace the room, unable to decide what to write on the stupid card Amy handed me.

A matter of hours are left until I can go home and be done with this farce. A matter of hours until I can stand in my own shower and jerk my cock to the memory of her sweet little sighs and give myself the relief I so badly need. Buckets of it.

And yet...

If I write no on the card and choose not to renew my vows, I'll probably never see Justine again. She can't keep working as my assistant. Not now. Not now I know how lush and sweet her body is beneath the simple blouse and skirt she wears most days. Not now I know how she tastes when she comes.

I'd never be able to keep my hands off her.

I also can't have her around long term. Even if she no longer works for me. That would be dangerous. I've already proved how little self-control I have around her. Besides she doesn't want casual. She wants a sweeping romance, the wedding and the kids, and that is something I can't do.

If I write yes, if I prolong this a little, there's a good chance we'll have a bit more privacy and I'll get another chance to make her moan.

It's irrational.

It's downright irresponsible.

I know I'll regret it.

Trouble is I'll regret it more if I let this end without at least chasing another opportunity. She's like the last salty chip in the bowl when you've already eaten too many. How can you say no to one more?

I sigh, pace to the plush white sofa and sit. Leaning forward, I brace my elbows on my knees. I should have talked to her about this last night.

That's what we should have been doing instead of playing dirty games beneath the covers hoping no one would notice.

She's not expecting me to write yes.

She might not even write yes herself. Perhaps she doesn't want to spend another week cooped up with a grumpy monster who can barely keep himself together. That's not what those heavy-lidded eyes and wet pussy beneath the coverlet said last night, though. That look was the look of a woman who needs this almost as much as I do.

Even I know that's self-indulgent bullshit.

I shift uncomfortably and try not to dwell too long on memories of last night. I don't need to get hard while a camerawoman is practically breathing down my throat.

Amy knocks at the door. "Five minutes to the ceremony, Mr. Kernos."

I grunt.

With one more long look down at the card and the pen in my hand, I pull off the lid and start to write. I hope I'm not making the biggest mistake of my career.

As if an ominous warning, my heart stutters in my chest just as I close the cap on the pen and fold the card.

I hope she wrote yes, too, or I'll look like a prime idiot. Wouldn't viewers lap that up? I can see the headlines now. Monster billionaire rejected on national television.

At least that should raise the ratings for a few days.

Cedric du Monfort, our gargoyle host, flutters his wings and casts a far too serious look around the room as if there's an actual audience here. Instead, a host of cameras and assistant directors, and fucking water boys, and god knows who else stand gawking at me as I prepare to make a fool of myself just for another taste of that pussy.

Is it too late to change my answer?

I don't bother asking. I know it is. Just have to ride it out. If anyone asks, I'm doing it for the ratings.

To be honest, I'm not certain I'm not. I haven't had the chance to check in a couple days, but given our track record for the last quarter, I'd say they're down.

Yes. That's definitely why I'm doing this. Nothing to do with the irritating ache in my groin even when I'm not hard. Or the scent in my nostrils that lingers and won't leave me alone.

"Dearly beloved—"

I roll my eyes. "Oh, can we just skip to the end?" I don't think my palms have been this sweaty since the last time I presented to the board.

Cedric fixes me with a patronizing look. "It's normal to be nervous."

"I'll give you something to be nervous about in a minute," I mutter under my breath.

Justine lets out an audible snort laugh and now I struggle to keep the smile from my face.

Flushing, she covers her mouth with one hand and looks up at me in horror. "Why would you make me laugh on camera?"

I can't resist leaning a little closer, frustration forgotten for the minute. "I never know what sounds you'll make, Traffic Lights."

I can't believe no one has stopped us and made us start again. I expect Amy to step in at any moment, but when I glance around she waves us on, perhaps flustered by my grouching. I should really try to keep my temper in check a little better. These people are all my employees for fuck's sake.

Cedric resettles his wings and continues. "As I was saying, we're here to make a big decision. Will you continue the experiment, risking the chance to open yourselves up to finding something real? Will you return home alone, and lose the chance to find out if this was your true match?"

This time, it's me holding back a snort.

Justine glances sideways at me and I resist.

"You've had some time to consider your decisions and I hope you didn't take them lightly. Whatever you do, you have the power to change your future here and now." He turns to me. "Ronan, what did you decide? Will you renew your vows and take Justine home to see what life could be like with her as your wife? Or will you leave the experiment and never know?"

I shift my weight onto the other hoof, flicking my tail against my thigh. I guess I'm going first, then. I clear my throat. "I will." I turn over my card to show the three letters I wrote in firm black ink.

Silence. Justine's eyes open wide and she turns to stare up at me. Even Cedric seems surprised.

She's going to say yes, isn't she?

"Justine, what did you decide? Will you renew your vows and go home with Ronan to experience life as his bride? Or will you leave the experiment?"

She turns the folded card to face me. Behind my back, I sense the camerawoman creeping closer, zooming in on what Justine is holding.

She looks at me with apology written in her knitted brows and the little tug on her bottom lip with straight white teeth.

Oh, God. She's going to reject me.

She flips up the cover. "Yes."

We stare at each other for another long moment. My heart is skipping beats in a rather alarming fashion and there's a tightness in my throat that wasn't there before.

It's fine. I'm fine.

"May true love prevail!" Cedric spreads his wings and grins at everyone in the room. There's actually applause from some of the crew.

I don't know what these people think is going on here, but I guess I should be pleased if it makes good television.

Everyone begins bustling around preparing the room for the post-ceremony interviews before we wrap filming and leave for Heartstone.

Justine sidles close. "Sorry," she whispers.

"Hmm? What for?"

She winces. "I thought you'd write no.

My stomach lurches. "You don't want to?"

She colors. "Well... no. I mean that's not—I don't mind, but I thought you'd be dead against it."

My tail flicks while I fumble with an answer that doesn't sound rude or stupid. Finally, I shrug. "Good for ratings. Might as well make it count."

Her face falls. "Oh. Yeah. I get it."

I'm left wishing I didn't undermine my own need to watch her come apart again. She deserves to know the real reason why I wrote yes. I clear my throat. "And you're not so bad to have around." I give her a wink, hoping I've kept things lighthearted.

She gives me a shy smile, but it's not as bright as I'd like it to be.

Now I feel like a dick. I don't want her thinking there are emotions involved, of course. But after the mind-fuck her ex-boyfriend did on her, she deserves to know she's sexy as hell.

In fact, she deserves to feel special. I bet no one ever made her feel like that in her life. If there's one good thing that can come out of this arrangement before it's time to let her go, at least I can do that.

Besides, the board want me to improve my reputation and pampering my reality TV wife would sure count.

I finish the interviews and head to the yacht, determined to spoil Justine as much as possible for the next week.