Page 51 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

“Right, I forgot,” I tell him as I sift through dresses on the rack while trying to decipher what exactly constitutes as nice to a man like Morgan Bale.

“You forgot that you work for me?” he asks. I jump because his voice is coming from behind me. Right behind me.

“No,” I state with a tone matching his. “I forgot about the girlfriend part.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything. Not right away. We both know that I couldn’t have possibly forgotten. Especially not after what happened just a little while ago. Still. He just stands there behind me, rigid like a marble pillar, and I turn around to look at him.

“Do you mind?” I ask. Because fake relationship or not, I don’t think he should be watching me get dressed.

“Don’t you have anything more…” he trails off, and I raise my eyebrows. “Formal?”

“Formal?” I echo. Then I laugh lightly. “We’re beach resort hopping. Forgive me for leaving my pantsuits at home. I’m afraid I’m fresh out of anything pleated.”

“You own something pleated?” he asks, tugging at an orange dress. I instinctively swat his hand away, causing his eyes to dilate at the audacity.

“No,” I snap. “I don’t. It’s not me, and it’s not what my followers want to see.”

“Right.” He nods. “White would be good,” he says, finally stepping out.

White, I do have. Though I wouldn’t call it formal. It’s a wispy, long dress with spaghetti straps and a strappy back and slits up to the thighs. It looks like something a minimalist would get married in on a beach.

“Wait,” I say, peeking out of the closet with the requested dress in hand. “You’re not planning a spontaneous beach wedding tonight, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, pacing the floor and checking his Rolex with every turn around. “You’re not ready to be my bride.”

I am offended by that. Not that I want to marry him. And as far as I know, this agreement won’t actually result in matrimony, holy or otherwise, but I still take offense.

“What?” he asks after checking his watch again. “The entire purpose of this dinner is to get more content for the blog. Food, ambiance, and the service at the resort. All while convincing the world we are in love.”

“Love. Right.” I nod, stepping back into the closet and closing the door most of the way so I can change. “Because our situationship is so very romantic,” I snort.

Suddenly, the door swings back open.

“Oh my god! Morgan!” I snap, covering up my half-naked body with the dress.

“That right there has to stop. You can’t refer to it as a situationship. You’ll blow the cover and the contract,” he says, but I just glare back at him.

“You are blowing the contract by blurring the lines right now,” I state, suddenly not caring if he is standing there. It’s not like he hasn’t seen more than this before, whether he remembers or not.

I pull the dress on and go on.

“Our relationship clause stated that we are together in public only. But in private? We need to have a conversation about the private part,” I say, marching up to him. I don’t even care that I have to stare into the sky to meet his eyes.

“If you think you can just do whatever you want all because you are technically my boss, you have another thing coming, Mister. Because while your money might be my source of income right now, my blog is what’s going to save your ass. So I’ll go to your little dinner and play along with all your rules. But after that, when we come back to the room? The red tape is going down, buddy. And believe you me, you will stay on your side.”

I am nearly hyperventilating by the time I am finished, and while that was probably very stupid, I have no regrets. I can’t help it. Because I have never had a man get under my skin like Morgan Bale.

He studies me with hard eyes for what feels like forever. And I match that glare until his lips tip into a smirk.

“There’s the girl I hired,” he says, turning on his heel. “Now, come on. We have a reservation.”

I blink hard and almost stumble. That, of all responses, was not what I was expecting. Though I’m not exactly sure just what I was expecting. Maybe for him to explode with authority? Put me in my place with his dominance and sharp tongue.

God that tongue is sharp…

I clear my throat and slip my shoes on. Strappy wedges to make him happy. Then I grab my purse, and we head out the door.

“This is nice,” I say as we take a seat overlooking the ocean. The Sunset Pier is a restaurant located on the pier outside the resort. Though it technically is still on Bale Resort property. We are on the very nose of the pier too, and the waves are practically crashing right below us.