Chapter 3

Isabelle drank her coffee on the sun-drenched patio of her Upper East Side condominium the next morning, her head still reeling from the events of the night before. The alluring aroma of Damien's perfume seemed to cling to her very pores, making it difficult to think of anything else.

She closed her eyes, unwelcome thoughts of his smoldering gaze and the carved features of his bare chest rushing back. The way his robe gaped open so tantalizingly, daring her gaze to roam. As they discussed the lurid details of their sham marriage, she was enchanted by his deep, gravelly voice.

A shudder of apprehension and illicit excitement ran through her. What did she get herself into?

"Good morning, Ms. Wakefield."

Anna's familiar voice shattered the delicious reverie. Isabelle's eyes widened to see her helper waiting with an expectant expression, iPad in hand. Her cheeks reddened guiltily, as if Anna could detect the deliciously perverse fantasies she had been having.

"Yes, of course." "What is on the agenda?"

"Well, first of all, confirmation came through." Anna gave her a sidelong glance. "The paperwork for your marriage contract with Mr. Blackwood has been filed and processed at the city clerk's office." As of today, you are officially Mrs. Damien Blackwood."

Isabelle felt a shudder run down her spine when she heard those words. She was a wife, at least on paper. To one of the most powerful and mysterious men in the world.

 The idea should have filled her with revulsion at the mockery of such a sacred commitment. Instead, it electrified her nerve endings with a strange, vulnerable thrill.

Get a grip, she scolded herself sternly. This was merely a performance, not a romantic dalliance. A means to an end to secure her future legacy and immense professional clout. There would be no room for whimsical fancies or emotional entanglements.

"Thank you, Anna," she replied briskly, projecting an aura of unruffled composure. "Please have my attorneys finalize reviewing the prenuptial agreements and forward them to Damien's team."

"Absolutely. I'll also need to start compiling the updated documentation for the Saxon agreement, which will include the additional details of your personal life," Anna said, a tiny glimmer of amusement in her eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

Isabelle gave her assistant a displeased expression. "I have made enormous sacrifices for the company and this transaction. Please don't find too much enjoyment in my... situation."

Anna instantly recovered her professional composure. "You're totally correct. I apologize. I'll make sure the new paperwork is ready for submission to Rothschild's office first thing tomorrow, Mrs...Blackwood."

Isabelle winced at the strange name, despite its prestige. Taking the surname of the very wealthy billionaire made everything feel indisputably authentic.

Her drifting thoughts were disrupted by the harsh sound of her phone. Damien's name flashed over the screen, raising her heart pulse.

"Excuse me," she remarked to Anna in a disdainful tone.

Her assistant politely retreated as Isabelle answered the phone with a calm, "Hello?"

"Why, good morning, my dear wife," said that seductively compelling voice, making the endearment appear more lustful than dedicated. "Are you enjoying your first day as a married woman?"

The deep tone of his voice sent thrills down her spine, tingling her nerves. His unnerving charisma was difficult to ignore.

"I already explained last night, Damien," she said, trying to sound brisk to conceal her surprise flush. "This is strictly a commercial transaction, not some shady romantic daydream. "There will be no happiness or anything like that."

She could almost detect a smirk in his voice on the other end of the phone. "On the contrary, it is precisely this 'anything' that makes our particular circumstance so appealing. We are now legally bound, Mr. and Mrs., in all but name. Why not reap the alluring benefits of such an unorthodox arrangement?" His voice had a provocative tone.

 "The nuptial bed need not remain undefiled, my dear Isabelle."

Isabelle's breath froze in her throat as she considered his unabashedly sensuous implication. She could see him bare-chested in that sinfully opulent robe, resting with lazy, predatory grace on the bed he mentioned. His chiseled features would be carved into a devilish promise expression, one sculpted brow lifted in open challenge as he anticipated her panicked answer.

Dammit, she needed to regain control of this situation before it became absolutely out of control. Drawing herself up, she harnessed every ounce of the imperious air that had seen her conquer boardrooms and destroy competitors since her early days as a driven associate.

"That kind of conversation stops here, Mr. Blackwood," she interrupted with a warning tone that was sharp as a razor. "I only agreed to this charade for one unfortunate reason: to satisfy the outdated desires of Saxon's board and finalize the crucial merger." Not to entertain whatever masculine fantasies you're deluding yourself with."

There was a momentary pause on the other end, and she quietly exhaled with satisfaction at reestablishing the boundaries. But then his deep, gravelly laugh reverberated in her ear, both entertaining and alluringly dark.

"Come on, Isabelle. We are married now, at least on paper."

Surely you don't expect me to resist indulging in my husbandly privileges? Sampling the...full range of the lavish feast before me?"

Her mouth went to sandpaper as he softened his voice into an intimate murmur, the words intended just for her.

"Make no mistake, I aim to taste every...succulent...inch of you during the term of our contract. To dominate you as thoroughly as any business entity."

He stopped, allowing the weight of his obvious intent to remain between them.

"And I have every confidence that by the time our sham marriage has run its course, you'll be aching for me to claim you as my wife in immeasurably...more permanent ways."