CHAPTER THREE--THE AGREEMENT

The sound of Adrian's laughter turned heads across the ballroom—a rich, deep sound that sent an unexpected shiver down Zara's spine. It wasn't warm or genuine, but it was perfectly calculated, designed to draw attention. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her close enough that the expensive wool of his suit jacket brushed against the bare skin of her shoulders. The heat of his body seeped through her silk dress, making her dizzy with a combination of champagne and his intoxicating presence.

"Smile," he murmured against her ear, his lips brushing her skin. "We're being watched."

Zara forced her lips into what she hoped was a believable smile, though her skin tingled where his breath had touched her. Her hand came up to rest on his chest, and beneath her palm, she could feel his heartbeat—steady and strong, unlike her own racing pulse. "Your brother's at my four o'clock," she whispered back. "He doesn't look happy."

"Nathaniel's happiness isn't my concern." Adrian's fingers traced small circles on her hip, the intimate gesture making her catch her breath. To anyone watching, they would look like lovers sharing a private moment. "Now, your conditions?"

"First," she said, struggling to keep her voice steady as his thumb continued its maddening pattern, "I want guaranteed access to your offices, your meetings, your daily schedule. If I'm playing the loving fiancée, I need to be convincing."

"Granted, within reason. Next?" His other hand came up to cup her face, tilting it toward his as if they were about to kiss. The gesture was possessive, deliberate, and sent heat blooming across her skin.

"When this is over, I write what I want. No censorship, no interference." She met his gaze defiantly, despite their intimate position.

Adrian's smile never wavered, but his eyes turned to ice even as his thumb brushed across her bottom lip in a gesture that made her heart stutter. "Absolutely not."

"Then I walk away now." Zara met his gaze steadily, though she made no move to extract herself from his embrace. The contradiction wasn't lost on her, but something about his touch made it hard to think clearly. "I'm already ruined, Mr. Cross. The only thing I have left is my integrity as a journalist."

For a long moment, he studied her face. His eyes traced her features as if memorizing them, lingering on her lips, the curve of her neck, the flush she could feel spreading across her cheeks. Around them, the party continued, but Zara felt trapped in a bubble of tension, waiting for his response.

"Counter-offer," he finally said, his voice dropping to a low rumble that she felt more than heard. "You write whatever you want, but I get forty-eight hours to respond before publication. 

"Deal," Zara said, hyper-aware of how close their faces were, how easy it would be to close that final inch between them. "When do we start?"

Adrian checked his watch, the movement bringing their bodies even closer together. "The photos leak in ten hours. We need to be ahead of the story." He pulled out his phone again, typing rapidly with his free hand while keeping her pressed against him. "My driver will take you to your apartment. Pack what you need. The rest will be placed in storage."

"Tonight? But—"

"Problem?" His eyebrow arched, and she felt his fingers tighten slightly on her hip.

Zara thought of her shabby apartment, the eviction notice, the unpaid bills. The contrast between her world and his couldn't have been starker. "No. No problem."

"Good." Adrian slipped his phone away, then caught her hand, intertwining their fingers in a way that felt oddly intimate despite its calculated nature. "One last thing. Nathaniel's coming over. Follow my lead."

Before Zara could respond, Adrian turned her to face him fully. His free hand cupped her cheek, fingers sliding into her hair, and she barely had time to register what was happening before his lips met hers.

The kiss was gentle but possessive, a clear message to anyone watching. But what started as a performance quickly shifted into something else entirely. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft, moving against hers with an expertise that made her knees weak. Zara's hands found his chest, and beneath her palms, his heart wasn't quite as steady as before. He tasted of expensive champagne and something darker, more dangerous, and when his tongue traced the seam of her lips, she opened to him without thinking.

The kiss deepened, became hungrier. Adrian's hand tightened in her hair, tilting her head to get a better angle, while his other arm wrapped more firmly around her waist, eliminating any space between them. Zara heard herself make a small sound in the back of her throat, and felt his answering growl more than heard it.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing harder. Zara had to remind herself this was all for show, but the heat in Adrian's eyes suggested he might have forgotten that for a moment too.

"Hello, brother." Adrian's voice carried clearly as a tall man approached them, though his thumb brushed across Zara's swollen bottom lip in a gesture that seemed more possessive than performative. "I believe you remember Zara James?”