An Unexpected Engagement

Chapter 9

Steve

Wait.

Is Natasha Romanoff saying we're not having sex anymore?

I stare at her impassive face, trying to figure out what the fuck she's thinking. I've never wanted to read someone's mind as much as I want to read hers right now.

That's exactly what I meant when I called her unpredictable!

What do you mean she's giving up?

After putting all those nasty ideas in my head, ideas that had permeated my thoughts all day, even after I left her at home and reunited with my family, everyone was so enamored of "my fiancée". Even when they melted into praise, Hope saying that she already predicted they would be great friends and my mother offering her own wedding dress, while Florence asked when the big day would be and even my father joined the matchmaking wave asking when we would meet the family of "my bride".

Damn! Didn't they get tired of being so insistent? I spent the afternoon pretending to agree to her far-fetched plans, when all I could really think about was everything I was going to do with Natasha in my bed that night.

At what point had my fake bride become a little obsession?

When she lifted her chin and said she wanted an unashamed night with me, making me wonder how long she'd harbored that attraction to me, if she followed me around the company, devising ways to get my attention when I had no idea she existed?

Was the fact that she was in my car the other night a setup?

And did I care?

Shit no!

I just thought I'd been so conscientious last night, when I should have put her in an ice-cold shower, given her hot coffee, and woken her up with my hands. Or my mouth.

Damn. Just thinking about what could have happened, what was sure to happen, left me with a pretty bad hard-on all day.

I just thought of picking her up and getting it over with.

So when I saw her at the door of the apartment, wearing the pretty dress I asked Hope to choose to replace the one she'd lost at the party, her eyes blazing with anticipation, an alarm flashed like a bomb squad siren in my mind.

I reminded myself that she was just not very desirable. She was fun. And provocative in a way that exasperated me and left me alive.

And it dawned on me that I was lusting after this unpredictable girl in a way I'd never wanted anyone else before.

And she was a DBS employee.

And my fake bride.

And sure enough, she had a few screws missing in her head.

Besides she could be a psychopathic sex stalker, if I took into account all the crazy things that had been going on since I met her.

Natasha Romanoff was freaking my head out.

Just like the psychopathic sex stalkers did in those TV shows about crimes of passion.

Damn!

And so I tried to contain myself. Go back to what it should have been since I proposed that deal. Cold as ice.

It was precisely the ice that betrayed me, as I led her around the skating rink feeling her incredible scent and her perfect smile.

From there to the kiss was a leap.

And then it dawned on me that it didn't matter that she was a sex stalker.

I wanted her.

Shit, I was fucked.

When she looked at me with that look that said without words that all the desire that was smothering me was reciprocal, I felt that fear again sweep over me.

I disguised it by saying that I kissed her just to reinforce our charade.

After all, while he was willing to do some pretty nasty things with Natasha Romanoff, that would be it.

Sex.

And she would go back to being just an ordinary DBS employee on Monday.

No longer my fake bride.

Or my object of desire.

Now she is pouring a bucket of cold water on my plans.

And again I try to understand what's going on in her psychopathic mind.

Just that to explain the sudden change. Because it wasn't possible that she hadn't felt the same way I did when I kissed her.

I take a deep breath trying to stay focused.

- And may I know the reason for this change of plans? - I ask with the coldest voice I can find.

She shrugs.

- I'm not interested anymore.

- How is it?

- That's right. I don't want to fuck you anymore.

- Why? - I try to keep my voice impassive.

- Look, Steve, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I didn't feel anything when you kissed me.

Which?

- You're lying.

She laughs.

- I'm not. The truth is, her kiss sucks!

This time I'm the one who laughs.

She can only be kidding!

- This is not true.

- If you want to think like that...

My family approaches in force, ending our discussion.

- Let's go? - my father says. - It's late, kids.

- Yes, let's go. - I pull Natasha by the hand towards the car, ignoring her closed face.

When we get into the car, she stares at me.

- Maybe it's not even necessary for me to sleep in your house...

- You'll sleep there, yes. My family looks forward to it. - I won't let her get away with it that easy.

I start thestarting the car.

I'm furios.

Natasha Romanoff teased me.

She challenged me.

She has no idea where she got herself.