Of course, there were rules.
I had known that almost at once he was the type of man who does little without rules.
The next morning, over coffee, he laid them out for me: unfairly put together in a crisp black suit to my wrinkled sweater, hair still a mess from sleep, with a distinct feeling that I’d just made a deal with the devil.
Sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse and bathed everything in gold. The city went on forever out the window, the skyline keen and brilliant against the morning sky. It was beautiful, I knew, yet I couldn’t focus on anything but the man across from me, his eyes on me, his expression unreadable.
Caspian was composed, as ever. His suit was immaculate, his cufflinks winking in the soft light. Even at this ungodly hour of the morning he seemed an powerhouse, polished, utterly untouchable.
I, on the other hand, was still trying to work out how I came to be here.
“Rule number one,” he said suavely, putting his cup of coffee aside. “You move into my penthouse.”
I spat my mouthful of coffee out. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t bat an eyelash. “It’ll make things more convincing.”
I turned to him, half of me anticipating he would break into a smile and tell me he was pulling my leg.
He wasn't.
“You want me to live here?” I asked, my voice a little shrill.
“It’s practical,” he said, as if that explained it all. “The media will be watching carefully. If we’re supposed to be in a relationship, it only makes sense that we share a home.
I gripped my coffee as if it were my lifeline. “So let me get this straight. You want me to uproot my whole life, move into your ridiculously expensive penthouse, and then pretend to be madly in love with you for six months?”
Caspian didn’t even bat his eyelashes. “Yes.”
I let out a quick, incredulous laugh. “You are insane.
His lips twitched, but he didn’t fight it. He sat back in his chair then, his gaze locking onto mine with that quiet intensity that had the power to unnerve me. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ll have your own room.”
It shouldn't have meant anything.
But somehow it did.
Not that it should.
I opened my mouth to continue arguing, but he was moving on.
Rule number two: Public appearances are a necessity. I’ll have my assistant send you a schedule.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You have an assistant organizing our fake relationship?”
“Of course.” He lifted his coffee again, taking a slow sip. “Everything needs to be seamless.”
I shook my head. This was unreal.
“And what exactly do these ‘public appearances’ involve?” I asked, dreading the answer.
Caspian’s eyes somewhat darkened; a slow, smirking curve spread over his lips as he leaned further forward-forearms to table-and suddenly it was like the room had shrunk in size. The subtle gesture drew him nearer-too close-nearer in the way I now could smell his cologne: dark, expensive, totally intoxicating.
“Events. Dinners. Social gatherings.” His voice was low, smooth, each word deliberate. “And of course, the occasional romantic display.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Romantic display?”
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never wavering. “We’re supposed to be in love, Lily. The world needs to see that.”
I swallowed hard. “Define see.”
His smirk deepened. “Hand-holding. Intimate conversations. The occasional lingering touch.” He paused just long enough to make my breath hitch. “And, if the situation calls for it-kissing.”
The air in the room shifted.
Kissing.
I shouldn’t have cared. It was all just part of the act. But the way Caspian was looking at me, like he dared me to react, sent my pulse racing.
I took a long sip of coffee-to hide the fact that my hands had started to shake. Bad idea. The worst.
And yet, I wasn’t saying no.
Caspian watched me closely, his face inscrutable. Then, as if he hadn’t just lobbed a bomb between us, he went ahead and continued.
“Rule three: No real feelings.”
That one stung more than it should have.
I let my breath out slowly, setting my coffee down with deliberate care. “Don’t worry,” I said, forcing a smirk. “Falling for you is not on my to-do list.”
Caspian held my gaze, something flickering behind his eyes-something sharp, dangerous. Then he nodded, as if satisfied. “Good.”
I should have left it at that.
But something about the way he said it-so absolute, so certain-made me want to push back.
I leaned forward slightly, echoing his posture. “And you?”
His brow rose. “And me?”
I tapped my fingers against the table. “Able to practice what you preach?”
His lips twitched. “I don’t break my own rules, Lily.”
I hated that my pulse jumped at the way he said my name-slow, deliberate, like he was testing it.
“Which brings me to the last rule,” he said, his voice lower by just enough to make my stomach do that annoying flip thing. “Rule four: No kissing unless necessary.”
I really wish I could say my first thought was relief.
It wasn’t.
Because instead of thinking, Thank goodness, that makes things so much easier, my brain immediately went to— What if it is necessary?
It didn't help that the way he stared at me-slate blue, his eyes, locked on mine as if knowing exactly where my mind had drifted.
Heat twisted in my tummy, and I despised myself for this.
Instead, I reached for my coffee, grumbling over my shoulder, “You’re impossible.”
The smirk was full-on this time. “You’ll get used to it,” Caspian said.
Doubt that.
Because with every passing moment across Caspian Grey, it only got scarier.
It wasn’t just any contract.
It was a game.
And I had no idea who would win.