Scandalous Games (Arranged Games Book 1)

“Marry me.”

Bianca’s mouth opens and closes while her eyes widen like saucers. Her delicate hand flies to her lips as she blinks in shock at her own words. It gives me time to hide my own surprise because not even in a million years I would’ve expected them. Especially not from her.

The woman who, only a few nights ago, called me her biggest regret.

The one who has my emotions tied in a knot.

Whom I warned to stay away from me.

Memories of her have been distracting me ever since she stumbled into my life again, day and night. I’m haunted by her scent that reminds me of the ocean. Mysterious, addictive, and peaceful.

The vixen that is aching for a man to draw her out. To introduce her to her hidden desires ever since I glimpsed them in her doe-eyes. Her lithe curvy body is made to be worshiped for endless hours.

If I don’t keep my distance, I will end up devouring her.

Neither of us wants that.

Because it will unleash deadly secrets that are better left buried. If that wasn’t standing in my way, then my deeper urges should make her run in the opposite direction. I kept them leashed and hidden when I fucked her the first time because of her innocence and knowing she was heartbroken over my stepbrother. I let her use me to purge herself of her demons while holding mine at bay.

None of it’s standing in my way now, except the truth she’s unaware of. A truth that will end with her hating me and not looking at me like I’m a mystery she can’t solve.

Or like right now… Like I’m the answer to her problems.

No. Bianca cannot be in my life.

She never belonged in it seven years ago and neither does she belong in it today.

Her last words awkwardly hang in the air between us, making me intrigued about her intentions. It certainly isn’t because she secretly loves me. I can bet all my billions that she probably dreams of killing me in her sleep every night and then wakes up with a smile on her face.

Why the vision is amusing, I have no idea.

“Are you proposing, kitten?” I drawl, tilting my head.

The nickname for her has made its home on my tongue. It spills before I can stop it and causes her enticing tits to shake as she breathes deeply. Her body, exposing the fact that she wants me every time we’re close.

Did she desire me back then too? Or maybe she simply fucked me to piss off Niall? I can’t help but ask myself.

Her silky hair escapes from her ponytail as she nervously pulls on it. I trace the movement of her tongue as she licks her lip. My dick twitches, wishing she was licking it instead. I could teach her how to take me deep down her throat without choking. Well… Maybe a little.

Fuck. Thoughts like that are dangerous.

“It’s not a real proposal, Dash,” Bianca answers, slowly regaining her composure.

“So no marriage, then?”

“I was kinda hoping for a fake one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she replies earnestly.

I chuckle while crossing my arms and peer down at her. “Care to elaborate, kitten?”

“Can we sit, please?” She huffs, pointing toward the conference table. “My neck will go stiff if I have to keep staring up at you.”

“There goes my fantasy of seeing you kneel naked at my feet,” I tease seductively.

“Pervert.”

“Any man would be after taking one look at you.”

She looks away when a blush darkens her cheeks pink. Something the old her would never have done. Maybe it’s what drives me to tease her every time I’m near. It must be driving her insane too.

“Just take a seat, Dash,” she rushes to say and walks toward the chair next to her. When she sidesteps me, I wind my arm around her tiny waist, pick her up, and drop her on the desk in front of me. Before she has a chance to protest, I pull her knees apart and settle between them.

Her jaw drops and she gazes at the closed door behind her before pushing at me. I take her hands and rest them on her sides with mine on top. Again, her tits heave underneath her soft blazer, making me want to pull down the neckline of her shirt and bite the hard tips.

“This is better.”

“Put me down!” she growls.

“I forgot how small you are,” I tease, unable to help myself.

“Or maybe you’re just too damn big.”

“I distinctly remember you drooling over my muscles when you left scratch marks on my back.”

The night I claimed her virgin pussy lives in the dark corners of my mind rent-free. The silky feel of her walls as I shoved inside and her cry of pain and pleasure, it all came rushing back like a powerful wave. It was the only good memory about that night.

Bianca’s lips part on a gasp and I rub the bottom one until she bites down on my finger.

“I’m not afraid of some teeth, kitten.” My gaze darkens with heat as I lock them with her defiant ones. “Just know, I bite back harder. Now tell me about your fake proposal?”

“You weren’t always this bossy.” She sounds annoyed.

“How would you know?” I retort. “You never talked to me. Maybe I was always bossy and you’re just realizing it now.”

“Or maybe becoming a billionaire has gone to your head.”

“So you are stalking me.”

“What? No!” She scoffs, offended, yet flushing bright red. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”

“Fake marriages always are.”

My words make her bristle but a slight desperation crosses her eyes as she mulls them over. It makes my protective instincts, which always seem to surface around her, roar but I shove it down. As intrigued as I am, I’m not getting involved in her mess.

As if she’s come to the same realization, she tries tugging her hands that I’m still holding captive. Annoyed at myself that I can’t seem to resist touching and trapping her, I pull my hands back.

“Let’s just continue with our meeting,” she grumbles while pushing at my chest.

“No.”

“Okay, now you’re just doing it on purpose.”

I lean over her small frame, her hard nipples brushing against my chest, and grip her chin. “You can’t just ask me to marry you and then pretend like you didn’t. Unless you want me to walk out of here and take my business with me, you’ll explain everything.”

My no-nonsense tone that I use with my employees when I demand an answer has the same effect on Bianca. The only difference is that I don’t usually issue it with a threat.

Her fiery gaze doesn’t stray from mine as she reluctantly nods. Her lips twitch like she wants to hurl threats back at me but the fear of disappointing her boss is holding her back. I rest my fists on either side of her body and wait for her to speak.

Tension laces her shoulders while a sliver of sadness flickers across her gorgeous face. It tugs at parts of me that I no longer want to acknowledge.

She looks away to stare out the window for a second as if aching for a semblance of confidence before she begins confessing.

“My father is a conservative and strict man who lives by old traditions and values. He expects the same from his daughters and now that I’ve turned twenty-five, he wants me to settle down and start my own family. He doesn’t care that I’m not ready and I’m happy with the things I’ve accomplished in my life. All he wants is for me to find a husband, preferably one of his choosing.”

“Is he forcing you?” I demand, my voice tinged with anger.

I lie to myself that it’s her situation I’m mad at and not because of the woman herself. I tell myself that I don’t care if she’s married to another man, making her forbidden and off-limits once more. Only for forever this time.

She pulls me back to the present when a broken laugh spills from her lips. She shrugs and I listen as she answers softly.

“Just in subtle ways every time I meet them. Everyone says peer pressure is bad, they obviously haven’t met my parents.”

I’m keenly aware of the fact that she’s trying to make it sound like a joke, but nothing about it is funny.

“How will a fake relationship fix the problem, Bianca? Why go to such lengths?”

“Because if I don’t marry this year, my little sister, Arya, will never get to.” She sighs, her tone sad. “My father will never agree and then Arya will hate me forever. I love her too much to ruin her future. So when my best friends suggested having a fake marriage in front of my family until Arya has hers, it felt like a perfect plan. I’ll end mine shortly after and this way, nobody gets hurt.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or laugh at the insane plan you and your friends concocted. You think it’ll be that easy to convince your father?” My voice is incredulous.

“Oh, trust me. He’ll be all too happy when it’s all he’s ever wanted.”

“Your father is a smart man, Bianca. Your plan is very risky,” I point out. “What if he catches you in your lie?”

“He won’t,” says Bianca confidently. Then again, she knows her father better than I do.

“If you say so.”

“So will you be my fake husband?” she nervously asks. The hopefulness in her voice as she stares up at me almost has me saying yes to her.

Perhaps her craziness is rubbing off on me.

“I still don’t understand why you’re propositioning me.”

“Rosa actually suggested your name.”

The expression on her face is so innocent and breezy that I might as well have imagined the sass and fire from before. It’s amusing and adorable that she pretends Rosa is the only reason she proposed to me. I ignore the slight jealousy at the absurd thought she might have another man in mind.

It still clouds my head as I demand in a low voice, “Who did you think of, kitten?”

“What?” She nervously swallows, taken aback.

I slide her to the edge of the table by grabbing her around the waist when she attempts to put space between us. The move presses her soft curves deliciously against my abs. A shiver dances down her spine when I inch my hand underneath her jacket above her thin top.

When her scent hits my nose, my fingers dig into her skin involuntarily.

Does her cunt smell the same? I ache to find out.

“If not me, then who were you going to ask?”

I notice her hands grasp the edge of the table on her sides, betraying her nerves. Or is she aroused at my closeness and trying to hide it? It has to be if the way her nipples have turned to stone through the thin material of her blazer is any proof.

“Why does it matter? I asked you,” she croaks out.

“I want to know.”

When she realizes I won’t budge, she huffs, “Fine. No one.”

“Admit I’m the only man you wanted.”

“No.”

Her defiant tone angers and turns me on at the same time. Smirking, I tell her, “Then I won’t give you my answer unless you do, kitten. Remember, you need me; I don’t need you.”

The fire returns with a vengeance but she stays quiet knowing that I have her at my mercy. I watch the play of emotions as she decides if it’s worth putting aside her pride or not. Ultimately, she has no choice except to give me what I want.

Something I know is the truth.

“You are the only one I want,” she utters.

“Good girl,” I praise with a smile before locking my expression. “What if it becomes something real?”

“It’ll never happen. We don’t like each other and it’ll only be in name.”

“What if I want more?” I muse in a low voice. She blinks back in shock while trying to gauge my feelings. Her pulse races and I trace it with my thumb before cupping her cheeks.

“You were never a relationship type of guy, Dash,” she huffs sardonically. “Please don’t tell me you’re looking for one now. Just last week, you were fucking two girls at the same time.”

“Maybe I was waiting for the right woman.”

“Then this won’t work.”

“Why?”

“Because my heart is incapable of loving anyone.” Her words come out broken while sadness flashes in her eyes before she hides it. “And even if it was, you’re the one man I’ll never fall in love with.”

The certainty and vehemence in her voice floors me and the words linger between us. They challenge me to prove her wrong while awakening the competitive side of me.

If only love was a game.

If only I didn’t have a black and vindictive heart.

“So sure of yourself,” I mumble to her before dropping my hand and stepping back.

I smooth my suit jacket and tighten my cufflinks while she remains seated. Hesitant confusion dots her pretty face at the sudden coldness in my mood. It puts her into motion as she stands on trembling legs and tucks her hair behind her ear.

Her teeth bite the corner of her mouth before she probes, “So… will you help me, Dash?”

“As honored as I am that you chose me to be your fake husband,” I say flatly, “I’m afraid my answer is a no.”

“But why?”

Her voice flows to me as I leave her standing and walk away before stopping at the door. I twist one last time to face her and taunt back with her own words.

“I’d rather be your one and only regret.”