Stella’s eyes go wide. “We said we’d try for a year. That would barely bethree months. It would look terrible for us both.”
She’s right, and I can’t deny that. “I don’t know, maybe I could initiate the divorce and blame it on wanting to focus exclusively on racing?” I swear a flash of hurt slides across her face at the suggestion. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, her mouth once again set in a grim line. “But obviously I don’t want it to look like you’re being left again.”
“How kind,” she drawls. “Would that give you enough time to make sure Figgy lays off, though? I get the sense she’s in this for the long haul.”
“We’ll just have to put on a hell of a show until then.”
“I don’t know if—” She cuts short, and I’m about to ask what’s wrong when I hear footsteps.
My back is to whoever’s coming down the hall, but I move closer to Stella anyway, crowding her farther into the corner.Her shoulders hit the wood paneling with a gentlethud, a sharp inhale passing between her lips. The sound distracts me for a moment, sending less-than-pure thoughts through my mind as I slip an arm around her waist, my other hand sinking into the hair at the nape of her neck.
To anyone looking on, we’re sharing an intimate moment. And to be honest, up close and personal with Stella, it feels exactly as it looks.
She doesn’t miss a beat, bringing her hands up to my chest and curling her fingers into my button-down. The motion tugs me closer, and I’ve got to wonder if this is an act or if she’s making up for what we missed out on last night. I don’t mind it either way, because the press of her body is blissful.
I dip my head, lips close to her ear, and ask, “Can you see who’s coming?”
Stella must have short-circuited, because the first sound I get from her is a soft whimper. It’s another second before she gives me an actual answer, breathy as it is. “No. Maybe one of your siblings?”
It could be. Or it could be Figgy, the exact person we want to convince that all of this is real. My mother doesn’t need any help on that front, but everyone else? It wouldn’t hurt.
I let my lips drift down to Stella’s neck, pressing a kiss to the spot right under her ear that made her shiver last night. I get the same reaction now, her body swaying into mine like her knees have gone weak, and I have to smile. She can make up new rules and regulations, but her body tells me everything her words won’t.
I do it again, scraping my teeth over her skin, and this time I get the softest moan that sends blood rushing to my cock. I jacked off in the shower—twice—this morning after seeing her in those barely there panties, and I’m certain there will beanother shower session in my future if this is how my wife is going to keep affecting me.
If we could just have one night, one time together to cut this aching tension, maybe we could—
Someone clears their throat behind me. A woman. Figgy.
Reluctantly, I lift my head and glance back at her.
“Your father wants to see you,” she announces. Her expression is unreadable, but her words are just this side of cold. “He’s waiting with Edith and Andrew in his office.”
I frown, fingers drifting out of Stella’s hair to rest on her shoulder. If my older siblings are there too, then it must have something to do with the company.
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” I murmur to Stella.
She nods and smooths out the wrinkles she created in my shirt. “Do what you need to. Don’t worry about me.”
With one last squeeze of her waist, I force myself to step back and follow Figgy down the hall. There’s no need for the escort, but when she looks up at me, eyes blazing, I know it’s so she can interrogate me.
“You’re really going to keep up this charade?” she snaps.
I don’t rise to her bait. “I’m going to keep being affectionate with my wife, yes.”
Figgy scoffs. “Come on, Thomas. This can’t be what you actually want. A big wedding planned by your mother? That’s been your nightmare since we were kids.”
The reminder of how well she knows me stings. It doesn’t matter that I have a very public job and my face is plastered on billboards around the world, I’ve always liked my privacy. I like keeping my circle small. I don’t need strangers prying into my life, and that’s the only thing a spectacle of a wedding would bring.
Figgy knows I don’t want that. Surely Mum does too, so why would she—
“Did you tell my mother you think this is all fake?” I demand, the pieces suddenly fitting together. “Is that why she’s pushing this huge wedding on us? To make us prove our relationship is real?”
Figgy’s eyes dart away, but her chin stays defiantly lifted. “I said I would do it.”
“Unbelievable.” I huff a humorless laugh. “Well, I hope you enjoy my wedding. If you’re lucky, my mother won’t rope you into helping plan it.”
I watch her go pale, but I don’t feel more than a twinge of guilt over the idea. “Thomas…” she says softly. “I just—”
