Page 28 of Orc'd At A Wedding
"Deadly."
"But—" I shake my head, trying to make sense of this, trying to hold onto some shred of logic. "But you're still getting paid. The contract?—"
"I'll give the money back."
I blink at him.
"What?"
"Every penny," he says flatly. "I'll refund your entire payment. Right now. I'll send it back the second we leave this bathroom. Then this stops being a transaction and starts being something real."
My mouth falls open.
"You—you can't just?—"
"Watch me."
He pulls his phone out of his pocket—somehow it survived being shoved into his tailored pants—and taps the screen with his free hand, his other still tangled possessively in my hair.
"Olog, wait?—"
"Transaction cancelled," he says, showing me the screen where he's already initiated the refund through the app. "Payment returned in full. Contract voided."
I regard the glowing confirmation message, my brain struggling to process what just happened.
"You—" My voice cracks. "You just gave up a massive payday."
"I don't want your money, Bliss," he says roughly. "I want you."
The confession hits me like a painful physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs.
"But what if this is just—just adrenaline?" I stammer. "What if we're both caught up in the fake dating thing and the wedding drama and tomorrow we wake up and realize this was a huge mistake?"
His grip on my waist tightens, his hips pressing harder against mine in a way that makes heat pool low in my belly.
"Does this feel like adrenaline to you?" he rumbles.
No.
It feels like drowning and flying and burning alive all at once.
It feels like every romance novel I've ever read and every fantasy I've ever had and every desperate, aching want I've shoved down because I didn't think I deserved it.
"I'm terrified," I admit in a broken whisper.
His expression softens fractionally, his thumb tracing soothing circles against my jaw.
"Of what?"
"That you'll change your mind," I confess. "That this is just some—some hero complex because you saw me crying and feltbad for me. That tomorrow you'll wake up and realize I'm just a mess who can't handle her own family and you'll regret everything."
He leans down, pressing his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my lips.
"Bliss," he whispers. "I have made exactly three impulsive decisions in my life. The first was getting these tattoos. The second was starting my gig service. And the third was accepting your booking request even though every professional instinct I had told me you were going to be dangerous."
"Dangerous how?"
"The kind of dangerous that makes a man forget his rules," he murmurs. "The kind that makes him stop caring about contracts and star ratings and professional boundaries because all he can think about is how badly he wants to keep her."
