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She wanted him.
Why couldn’t she have both?
'What's up?' He pulled away, his hands spanning her waist, anchoring her in a world spinning dangerously out of control.
'We need to discuss our arrangement.'
Frowning, he released her and stepped away, leaving her cursing her choice of words and wishing there was a simple solution to this.
But there wasn’t, and she needed to face the truth. She'd fallen for Nick all over again, had blown her 'have fun for a short time not a long time' motto, and in doing so, had the potential to blow her dream job too.
'By arrangement, I assume you mean our marriage?'
She nodded, biting her bottom lip as his expression blanked, his cool indifference a frightening reminder of the emotional barriers he'd slammed up in the weeks leading up to the night he'd dashed her dreams of a future ten years ago.
'I got the promotion.'
'Congratulations.' He thrust his hands in his pockets, his calculating gaze not leaving hers, as if daring her to speak her mind and put an end to this.
'It's all happened rather soon—'
'When do you leave?'
No begging her to stay, no declaration of undying love.
But then, what did she expect?
Ever since their marriage had turned physical they'd slipped into old ways; comfortable with each other, teasing, joking, making up for lost time in the bedroom.
Yet they'd skirted around the issue of a future, never chatting beyond the day to day events, making love with frantic abandon as if each time could be their last.
It reminded her of the past, of the fragile nature of their relationship back then. But Nick wasn't the badass rebel anymore and she wasn't the wide-eyed romantic dreaming of happily ever after.
She hadn't got as far as she had in her career without being practical and there was no way she'd give up on them without a fight.
There had to be a solution to this, there had to be.
She twisting her hair into a loose knot at the base of her neck so she couldn’t duck behind it and hide, and sank onto the edge of the bed and patted it. ‘When I leave depends on you.'
He eyed her warily, his rigid posture at odds with the fleeting yearning in his eyes as his gaze strayed to the spot next to her.
'Come on, take a seat. We need to sort this out.'
'Fine.' With a terse nod, he flung himself into an armchair opposite, his inflexible expression not giving an inch.
'Don't trust me if you sat on the bed?’
'Don't trust myself.' A glimmer of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, giving her hope. 'You know what happens any time I get near you on a bed.'
'Not just a bed from memory.'
His eyes darkened to burnt caramel and she swallowed. It was so easy slipping into old ways with him; teasing, flirting.
But flirting wouldn't solve this, nothing but a good dose of honesty would, and she steadied her resolve to confront their problems rather than tumble into bed with him and forget everything.
She broke eye contact, took several steadying breaths, and when she met his gaze again he'd slipped those barriers firmly back in place.
'What do you want?'
