Till Death by Alessandra Torre, Madison Seidler

oil.
     
    “And when did you decide upon a second demand?” he asks wryly.
     
    “Pretty much an hour ago. It involves our sleeping arrangements.”
     
    His grin drops, his eyes watching me closely, the laughter gone from them.
     
    “If you want me to help you tomorrow, then I want to sleep with you both nights. Not in the second bedroom of the suite. In your bed.”
     
    It shouldn’t be an outlandish request. It should be something he agrees to easily, without hesitation, considering the fifty million dollars at stake—a lifetime of wealth. But I can see from his eyes, from his tight jaw and the hesitation with which he speaks, that this is difficult for him.
     
    “Why is that important to you?” he speaks quietly, and I lean forward slightly to hear the words.
     
    I didn’t mean for my demand to kill the spirit of the evening, to cause his eyes to darken and smile to drop. I almost want to take it back, to shrug and tell him to forget it, to forget I even mentioned it. But I want at least one night. At least one night of his arms around me, his bare skin relaxing next to mine. I only have one carrot to dangle—a carrot that will disappear tomorrow morning. This is my only chance. I have to take it.
     
    I swallow the final sip of beer, smiling gratefully when the waiter appears with a fresh one, a flash of white teeth appearing in a dark face, and then we are alone again. “I know that you are emotionally unavailable; it’s not about that.” A complete lie. It’s all about that. “It’s just been a long time since I … had someone to sleep with. I feel so disconnected, us spending time together and then going to separate rooms. For this trip, just these two nights, I’d like to spend them together. To pretend, for this short period, that we aren’t in some fucked up version of playing house. I can’t explain it, other than that it is important to me, and I need it to decide if I want to continue in the marriage.”
     
    He nods slowly, candlelight reflected in the blue of his eyes. “I understand loneliness. I ache for Cecile in a way that hurts. But, I hesitate for two reasons. One, I want to make sure that you know—”
     
    “I got the memo, Nathan,” I interrupt him crossly. “You don’t love me. Aren’t going to love me. I hear it loud and clear. A fucking cuddle session isn’t going to change that.”
     
    His reaction is so incredulous, so caught off guard that he just simply stares at me, his eyes turning playful as I watch them, a grin catching his mouth before he leans back and laughs. He shakes his head as he tries to contain himself, taking a swig of beer before looking at me sheepishly. “I’m being a little conceited, aren’t I?”
     
    I grin, glad that the dark cloud of mourning that I brought on has lifted. “A bit. You give one hell of a fuck, but yes, you aren’t that heartbreakingly lovable.”
     
    “Hey,” he said with a devilish wink. “Back at’cha. In regards to the fucking, that is.” He reaches forward, capturing my hand and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “As far as lovable, an unattached man would be insane not to fall head over heels for you.” As he brushed my knuckles with that delectable mouth, my heart tries hard not to trip over itself in an attempt at suicide.
     
    I tug on my hand, trying to salvage my most crucial organ before it cuts itself into a million pieces. “And the second reason you hesitate to open up that sacred bed to me?”
     
    He hesitates. “When she comes back, I want to be able to tell her that any other women—you or anyone else I’ve been with—meant nothing to me. That I’ve been waiting for her. That it has been purely sex with them, nothing more.”
     
    Aw fuck … I can feel my heart implode, sobbing dramatically while sinking into a puddle inside my chest cavity. I busy myself with lobster, taking out my aggression on an innocent claw, trying to keep my face calm, and only half listening when he