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she needed to stay focused on what she knew was attainable.

She didn’t have the same ambitions that some women might have. She didn’t dream of a white picket fence home with a husband to treat her nice and a couple of kids, barbecues in the summer, and a steady nine to five job. Experience had taught her that an easy, happy and steady life just wasn’t a reality for people like her. She hadn’t grown up with that kind of privilege and it was not on the cards for her future either. Instead, she had crafted dreams that she could control. Ambitions that she could make happen on her own, that weren’t reliant on anyone else.

Where did a potential relationship with Lucian fit into that? It didn’t. That was the long and short of it.

Then again, perhaps she was worrying over nothing. They had a contract. A limited-time contract. Lucian was just trying to make the best of the situation. No reason why he couldn’t get his money repaid and have a little fun in the meantime. He hadn’t done anything wrong in seducing her. She had gone along with it willingly and she had enjoyed the ride. There was no reason why he would intend their little affair to be anything more than a limited-time deal. Or maybe he was thinking that he could hit her up whenever he was in the city in the future. She knew what he was now. He wouldn’t have to explain anything and she could offer the whole package; dinner and date all wrapped up in one.

The thought of what they had shared being simply a fling cut her heart like a knife. She had opened up to him, shown him so much of herself, handed over control, and found that the world didn’t come crashing down around her because of it. If she had misread the situation and this was all just part of some kind of game to him, then she had been made a fool of. She had stupidly believed him for all his charm and gentle manners and signs of kindness.

Her heart ached. She wanted to get some space and re-establish her shields. But she couldn’t; she was stuck in a car with the bastard.

“Would you like to stop for a break?” Lucian asked over the soothing classical music that filled the car.

Katherine considered it. If they stopped she could get some distance, but how far could she get before she was dragged right back. Either due to their contract or because her stupid heart would miss the controlling asshole.

“I’m good,” she replied quietly, not trusting herself to turn and look at him.

“You’re not,” Lucian stated firmly, “you have been troubled for the entire journey. Will you not tell me what is wrong? I might be able to help.”

The temptation to give in and just tell him what she was feeling, hung within Katherine’s reach but she wouldn’t make a fool of herself anymore.

“I have a headache, that’s all. I just want to get home and go to bed.”

Home. She closed her eyes and cursed herself. She already felt as though Tumbricane was home. She felt like the penthouse could be home. Everywhere Lucian was felt like home.

“Of course, darling,” Lucian said softly, taking her hand in his as he kept the other firmly on the steering wheel. He gently rubbed his thumb over her skin and she could’ve wept at how comforting it felt. “Whatever you need.”

She didn’t have the strength to pull her hand away, so she let him hold on to her for the rest of the journey. His touch gave her nothing but safety and reassurance. But she knew not to believe it. Whatever her foolish heart was feeling, couldn’t possibly be real. She wouldn’t let herself be an idiot. She would not allow herself to fall any further in love with Lucian than she already was. It hurt too much already. She wouldn’t survive if she let it grow anymore.

They would have fun. They might fool around a bit more, she knew she couldn’t resist him. But he wouldn’t get her heart. She would play out the rest of their contract with her eyes wide open and when the two months were up, her father could come and work his debt off to Lucian and she would walk away. Her father deserved what he got and she would write off Lucian Nightingale as a distracting chapter in the history of the making of Katherine Daxton.

◆◆◆

She closed the door with a gentle click before leaning her forehead against the smooth mahogany. She hadn’t missed the disappointment in Lucian’s eyes when she had asked for some time alone in her room. He had quickly covered it up with his usual gentlemanly manners and pleasant formalities but she’d seen it. It was funny; she remembered wishing she could decipher his thoughts and feelings behind his constant black gaze, now she could read him like she knew him intimately and it hurt like a bitch.

She hated knowing she was hurting him by shutting him out, she wished things could be different but she had to be realistic. They had no future and he most likely would lose interest in her, if he hadn’t started to already.

Katherine pushed away from the door and methodically began unpacking her laptop, books, and notes and arranging them neatly on her new desk. The desk he had bought for her. She sucked in a breath. Most girls got mushy over chocolates and flowers, but she got sentimental over good quality office equipment and running gear. She turned away from the desk and her eyes landed on the vase of sweet-smelling roses.

Who was she kidding? She got teary-eyed over flowers too.

When their time was up she would miss him. Even if she distanced herself for what was left of their two-month agreement, even if she refused his invitations to dinner and didn’t give in to their carnal sexual chemistry; she would miss him. He

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