"You saved my ass today, Elena."
"I was just doing my job," Aria said.
"No." He handed her a glass and sat beside her. "Chen was ready to pull out of the deal. He'd heard rumors about The Vermeer being questioned. Your authentication shut down every doubt in the room."
Aria's stomach turned. The painting was a forgery. She'd lied to protect him. And now he was thanking her for it.
"Marcus, about the painting…"
"I know it seemed rushed, but I trust your expertise. You've been doing this longer than most people in the field. If you say it's authentic, that's good enough for me." Marcus said, looking straight at her.
The trust in his eyes made her feel sick, and she felt like bad instantly. This was exactly what Vera had warned her about. She was getting too close and letting emotions cloud her judgment.
"What if I was wrong?" she asked quietly.
"Were you wrong?"
Aria thought about the folder in her bag, Vera's cold voice, and about five years of training for this exact moment.
"No," she lied again. "I wasn't wrong."
"Then stop second-guessing yourself." His hand found her thigh. "You're brilliant at what you do, Elena. Stop doubting it."
Elena. The fake name felt like a knife every time he said it.
"I just don't want to cost you millions because I missed something."
"You didn't miss anything." He pulled her closer. "And even if you had, and that painting turned out to be a fake, I'd still trust you because you're thorough and careful. You don't make careless mistakes."
But I do make calculated ones, she thought. Like lying to you and protecting you when I should be destroying you.
"You're tense." His hands moved to her shoulders, massaging her tight muscles. "What's really bothering you?"
Everything she thought: the mission, the lies, and the fact that I'm supposed to destroy you, but I can't stop wanting you instead.
"I'm just tired," she said instead. "It's been a long day."
"Okay, I want you to relax" He held her close to himself," his mouth found her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. "Let me take care of you."
She wanted to say no and maintain some distance from this dangerous man and focus on the reason why she was really here.
Instead, she tilted her head, giving him better access. "How do you plan on taking care of me?"
"However you need." His hands slid under her blouse. "Tell me what you want, Elena."
"I want to stop thinking," she said.
"Done." He pulled her to her feet. "Come on, let's head to the bedroom now."
The command in his voice made her body respond instantly. This was dangerous. This feeling of surrender and wanting to give him control is new.
"Marcus…"
"What did I tell you on the plane?" His hands framed her face. "When we're alone like this, just the two of us, you can let go. You don't have to be perfect or professional or careful. Just be yourself."
"I don't know how to just be myself anymore." She admitted.
The admission slipped out before she could stop it. That was very honest and revealing.
But Marcus's expression softened. "Then I'll teach you. Starting now."
He led her to the bedroom. "I want you to strip," he said. "Slowly."
Aria's hands moved to her blouse. She'd undressed for men before. Used her body as a weapon. But this felt different. Marcus wasn't watching like those men. He was watching like a man who actually saw the real her.
"Slower." His voice was rough. "I want to enjoy this moment."
She obeyed, letting each piece of clothing fall until she stood naked.
"Christ." He circled her slowly. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
She'd been called beautiful before. By her targets and trainers evaluating her effectiveness. But the way Marcus said it made her feel it for the first time.
"Go to bed and lie on your back." He commanded.
She climbed onto the massive bed, her heart racing. Marcus stood at the foot, still fully dressed, studying her.
"Spread your legs for me Elena."
Fire rushed through her. "Marcus…"
"Do it."
She obeyed, feeling exposed and vulnerable and desperately aroused.
"Good." He finally moved, climbing over her. "Now here's what's going to happen: I'm going to make you come multiple times until you can't think about authentication reports or gallery issues or whatever else is making you tense. Until the only thing in your head is me."
"That sounds…"
"I'm not finished." His hand wrapped around her throat gently. "And you're going to take everything I give you. No holding back or pretending. I want to see the real you, the woman underneath all that control."
"What if you don't like what you see?" she asked.
"Impossible." He kissed him deeply. "Because I've already seen glimpses of her when you're dancing and looking at art. I saw her also when I'm inside you, and you forget to be guarded. That's the woman I want, and I'm going to pull her out of you tonight."
His mouth moved down her body with deliberate slowness. Kissing and tasting her.
When his tongue found her center, Aria lost it and lifted her back off the bed.
"Stay still." His hands pinned her hips. "Let me do the work."
She tried. God, she tried. But his mouth was relentless, building her higher and higher until she was trembling.
"Marcus, I'm going to…"
"I know. Come for me."
The orgasm rolled through her in waves. But Marcus didn't stop. He kept going, pushing her straight into another one before she'd recovered from the first.
"This is too much, Marcus," she gasped.
"You can take it; I know you can." His fingers joined his mouth. "Give me another one."
She did. And another after that. Until she was shaking and overwhelmed and completely worn out.
Only then did Marcus move up her body, positioning himself at her entrance.
"Look at me," he commanded.
Aria forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze.
"I want to see you when I'm inside you and watch you fall apart."
He pushed in slowly, filling her every inch. The angle was perfect, hitting spots that made her gasp.
"That's it." His hips moved in a steady rhythm. "Take all of me."
She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. This wasn't like the plane. This was slower and more intimate and dangerous.
"You feel incredible." His forehead rested against hers. "Like you were made for me."
"Marcus." His name escaped as another orgasm built.
"I've got you." His pace increased. "Let go. I've got you."
She came again with his name on her lips, feeling him follow her over the edge.
They lay tangled together afterward, breathing hard. Marcus's hand on her back, holding her tightly.
"Do you feel better?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Liar." He kissed her shoulder. "You're still tense and still thinking too much."
"Old habit," she said.
"Then we'll have to break that habit." He rolled her onto her stomach. "Stay there."
She heard him moving around the room. When he returned, his hands were warm with oil, working the knots in her shoulders.
"This isn't part of the dominant thing, is it?" she asked.
"The dominant thing includes taking care of what's mine." His hands moved lower, working each muscle group. "And right now, you need this more than you need another orgasm."
"I didn't think that was possible."
He laughed. "Give me an hour. We'll test that theory."
Aria felt herself relaxing under his hands despite everything. The lies, the mission, and Vera's messages are burning in her phone.
"Can I ask you something?" Marcus's voice was quieter now.
"Yes."
"That authentication today, you seemed conflicted about it. Why?"
Aria gasped. "I told you. I just wanted to be thorough."
"That's not what I mean." His hands never stopped moving. "It felt like something else was bothering you. Like you were making a choice instead of just stating a fact."
Her heart beat faster. He was too perceptive and aware of little things.
"Every authentication is a choice," she said carefully. "My reputation is attached to every piece I verify."
"Is that all?" he asked.
"What else would there be?"
There was a long silence between them. Then Marcus's hands returned to her shoulders.
"Nothing, I guess. I want you to know you can tell me things. If something's wrong and you need help with something. I'm not just here for the sex alone, Elena."
The fake name stabbed through her again, along with his offer, trust, and willingness to help her when she was here to destroy him.
"I know," she whispered.
"Good." He pulled her onto her side, spooning behind her. "Now sleep. We have another gallery viewing tomorrow, and I need my art expert well-rested."
Aria lay in his arms as he fell asleep. But she couldn't sleep. Her phone was across the room, probably full of angry messages from Vera. The fake authentication would have consequences. Vera would know she'd chosen Marcus over the mission.
And tomorrow, she'd have to face those consequences.
Tonight, she is going to stay wrapped in Marcus's arms, feeling safe, claimed, and almost normal; she is going to pretend and imagine a world where Elena Sterling is real. Where she really was just an art curator falling for a billionaire, and her family was still alive, and she'd never learned to kill.
Just for tonight, though.
Tomorrow she'd deal with reality and face the consequences of what she'd done.
Tonight, she would enjoy being normal.
And that was enough.