"At least bring me something to eat before you shut the door on me!"


    Isadora kicked her legs in the air in protest.


    "Victor, put me down!"


    Victor''s gaze was dark and unreadable, a hint of a smile ying on his lips. "Say please."


    Sometimes you just had to swallow your pride.


    Isadora gave in quickly, pressing her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please? Pretty please?"


    Victor''s eyes lowered in feigned thought. After a beat, he replied, deadpan, "Nope."


    Isadora was speechless. Seriously?!


    "Then why did you even ask me to beg?"


    Victor''s expression softened, amusement curling at the edge of his mouth. "Isadora, I just asked you to beg. I never promised I''d say yes."


    She pouted. "You''re such a jerk!"


    He smirked. "If I''m a jerk, what does that make you? The jerk''s wife?"


    Thatst word—"wife"-caught Isadora off guard.


    She stared at his profile, the chiseled lines of his face softened by the goldenmplight, his jawline cast in gentle shadow.


    Victor said it so casually, as if it meant nothing at all.


    Before she could process it, Victor scooped her up and carried her over to the bed, tossing her onto the mattress.


    The springs dipped beneath her weight, then bounced her back up.


    Her dress fluttered with the movement, the thin straps slipping down her arms, baring her smooth, pale shoulders.


    Victor shrugged off his ck shirt and let it fall to the floor, then leaned over her, brushing his lips lightly along her shoulder.


    A tingling current shot through her body, making her shiver with pleasure.


    Isadora couldn''t help but let out a soft moan.


    Suddenly, a faint whiff of perfume drifted into her nose-something light, like gardenia.


    She almost never wore perfume.


    This wasn''t hers.


    In an instant, the haze in Isadora''s mind cleared. Her body tensed. She pressed both hands against Victor''s chest, stopping him.


    "Let go of me."


    He didn''t seem to notice, thinking she was just being coy. His hand slid under the hem of her dress.


    The air grew thick with heat and anticipation.


    But then Isadora''s voice went cold. "Victor, you hook up with some woman while you''re gone, thene back and touch me like nothing''s happened-don''t you think that''s disgusting?"


    Her wordsnded like ice water, dousing the heat between them.


    Disgust flickered in her eyes.


    Victor froze, holding himself up on one arm as he stared down at her for a long moment.


    Seeing her face so frosty, a wicked smile tugged at his lips. "Much as I''d love to, I doubt this ne could handle the full force of my, let''s say, athletic abilities."


    Isadora blinked, thrown by the unexpected answer.


    All that fuss over a hint of perfume, and now this.


    Victor had just flown back from Europe, a ten-hour haul. If he had been with another woman, it would have had to be on the ne.


    And there were other people on the private jet, too.


    She pictured the jet lurching through the sky like a shaken toy and had to bite back augh.


    "Then where''s that scenting from?"


    Victor arched a brow, his voice rumbling with mild exasperation. "It''s the incense they burn on the ne. If you don''t believe me, I''ll take you to check right now- wouldn''t want you using me of something I didn''t do, Miss Jealous."


    Isadora didn''t blink. "I am not jealous. Every woman would care about this kind of thing."


    "Alright, alright, you''re not jealous. You just don''t like the idea of another woman around me."


    Isadora cocked her head, frowning. Why did that sound so wrong when he said it?