“You work too hard, Eve. When will you come down to visit?”

Evelyn Bright finished putting her eyeliner on and inspected the results in the mirror. She looked ridiculous. Though she’d spent countless hours watching online make-up tutorials, she could never get it right. She looked like someone had given a five-year-old a marker and told her to go for it.

She sighed and reached for another wet wipe. Before this job, she had worn make-up probably only a handful of times.

“Soon, mum. You know what it’s like with all the placements at the hospital.”

That lie came out of her mouth so easily these days.

“It’s ridiculous that you can’t have a break, even when the semester is over. We all miss you. At least you only have one more year. You could find a job closer to home once you graduate,” her mother continued. “It’s too expensive in London.”

As always, the guilt ate her up. It had taken her longer than others to start university, and her parents had been so proud. First in the family and everything. But here she was.

“Ah—yes,” she answered. “But I’ve really got to go now. Love you, and pass my love to Dad.”

Once her mother ended the call, she sighed and put the phone aside. She would find a way to break the news to her soon. Hopefully.

She fluffed up her curly auburn hair and inspected her face again. Her skin was olive-toned. If she were to try this again, she would have to have an expert choose her make-up. At least she never had to go out anywhere because she would have failed this job in the first week.

She finished her usual light makeup without bothering to experiment any more with the bolder styles and inspected the results. She looked natural and her green eyes popped. It was the excitement that was making them look so bright. She pushed it down, or rather, she tried to squash it as much as possible. Hopes and dreams weren’t allowed in this house.

With a sigh, she stood up from the dressing table chair and looked in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. She had bought a new baby doll lingerie set for tonight. It was white, with gauzy material and opened at the front. A lacy bra pushed everything up while the knickers were barely there. Hardly anything was left to the imagination. It was all there on show, nothing to unwrap.

She didn’t know why she even bothered. She would be better off walking around with her tits out all day because none of her efforts ever lasted long. He would rip everything off the moment he arrived. She had spent more on knickers this year alone than she had spent in her whole life.

She left the dressing room to look around her bedroom with a critical eye. The colossal oak wood pedestal bed stood in the centre as the focal point with its canopy and lacy curtains. It looked like a real Princess’ bed- nothing she would have chosen for herself because she was no princess. There were matching oak bedside tables, comfortable fluffy rugs, and a chaise lounge on the other end with an oak coffee table in front of it. The quality was unmistakable, and this room alone cost more than she would ever be comfortable spending on anything. It was not her.

Nothing was out of place, so she picked her wine glass off the custom-made television stand built around the huge television mounted on the wall. It had been almost a year since she had moved in here, and everything was still the same. Maybe because she expected this to end at any moment. She hadn’t wanted to form attachments but had been failing lately. Failing so terribly.

She felt the excitement build up again but squashed it down.

With a sigh, she headed down the stairs barefoot. It was still summer, so the house was nice and warm, but even in the winter, the modern home was economical, despite its size. It was perfect; she expected nothing less because he had built it himself.

Once she settled on a sofa in the lounge, she sipped her wine and waited. The clock said she still had ten minutes. She couldn’t stop the excitement from building up this time. One year in and she still got butterflies like she was a virgin. She should have taken that as a sign to say no to this stupid deal, but it was too late. The ink had dried on the contract many months ago.

Seven on the dot, her doorbell rang.

She put her glass down and took a deep, calming breath before standing and leaving the lounge. Every step she took down the large entranceway increased the knots in her stomach until she finally pulled open one side of the double doors.

And then her breath stopped.

Roman Ashfield. Still the sexiest bastard in all of England. One look at him turned her knees to jelly; she had to hold on to the door so she wouldn’t fall flat on her face and embarrass herself.

“Good evening, Evelyn,” he said in his deep, raspy voice.

The voice got her all the time. Like sweet, sweet music to her ears. Roman could have been a singer instead of a businessman and would have raked in the same billions.

“Hi,” she answered breathlessly.

“Are you going to let me in, or are we putting a show on for the neighbours?”

“Sorry. Yes, come in,” she said, opening the door wider.

He strolled in like he owned the place. Which he did. He owned everything in this house, including her.

She had no neighbours. Roman had planned it that way. Her nearest neighbour was over a mile away, so he had tucked her away in the country where no one could see her. Like the dirty secret that she was.

“You could just use your key,” she reminded him as she shut the door.

“That would be rude. This is your house,” he said.

She tried to stop her eyes from wandering over his body as he took his coat off and hung it in the cloakroom to the side of the entrance. And that was stupid because she was allowed to look. He belonged to her as much as she did to him, on paper at least.

Roman was six feet five worth of pure muscle. Broad shoulders, an eight-pack, the works. And when he turned back to face her, his piercing dark blue eyes struck again. A woman could drown in those eyes. There wasn’t a lock of his luscious dark brown hair that was out of place, but it would all be deliciously tousled by the end of the night. With his neatly trimmed stubble and bone structure of a god, he was always on the Top Ten Bachelor lists in London.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand.

Yes, a woman could drown in those eyes, especially if he looked at them like this. She would have to be dead to stop the way her body heated up and her heart hammered in her ears.

His gaze slowly travelled down her body before it met hers again, and the scorching heat she saw in them made her breath catch again. She would never understand why he had chosen her, an average Jane from an estate in Birmingham, to do this with, but yes. She was ready. So ready.

She took the hand he offered and let him lead her up the stairs to her bedroom. And then, the moment she was in, he closed the door and slowly backed her against it before he brought his lips down.

This was why she was failing. This was why she couldn’t separate real life and pretend. This was why she was getting so attached.

Roman kissed like he was made for it. His lips... They fueled heat in her veins that melted her bones. All the time. He worshipped her body like it was just the two of them in the world, and she supposed it was. He was her entire world.

When he finally released her, he stepped back and loosened his tie. She didn’t dare move until he told her to, but judging by his hooded eyes as he looked at her body, she knew she had been right about the lingerie. It wouldn’t last long at all.

Eve was still exhausted when his lips on her tit woke her.

She moaned as she sleepily turned her body fully to him and opened her legs to accommodate him. She sunk her fingers into his hair to hold him in place so he could continue to do what he was doing.

The man’s tongue was a gift that he was very generous with. Roman wasn’t a selfish lover, which was probably why falling in love with him had been so easy. But that, of course, was against the rules.

She arched her back as he licked, sucked and nibbled before he moved on to the next one. Before she’d met Roman, she hadn’t been so sensitive, but he could make her fall over the edge just by doing this. She moaned loudly as he sucked hard while she tightened her grip on him.

She had lost count of how many times she had screamed his name, but she knew this would be the last time before he returned to his real life. Her body was already deliciously sore, and her voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

That was another thing she had never done before the first time she had ended up in his bed. She never knew what came out of her mouth, but it was loud and obnoxious. She used to try to stop it because it wasn’t refined or proper enough for a man like Roman, but she gave up after only a couple of times. The man was good at what he did; no one could blame her for forgetting herself.

Roman lowered his hand and placed it between her legs. The moment she felt his fingers, she was ready to explode, but he kept his pace slow and uneven, teasing her so she couldn’t get the release that her body craved.

“Please...”

But Roman kept going, alternating his pace as he continued to suck on her tits.

“Please, Roman...”

She was ready to push him over and take what she wanted when he moved from her breast to her mouth as he quickly positioned himself.

And then he filled her up.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when his huge cock hit every spot as he slid into her. Every inch of him swallowed up as it stretched her. She stopped kissing him to moan her appreciation when he started to move. She was making weird sex noises but didn’t care as she locked her feet behind him and let him carry her away.

It was so quick. Roman hit the spot repeatedly until her walls tightened around him and she tumbled. He groaned and stilled as he began to pulse inside her, falling simultaneously.

They were both breathless when he kissed her quickly and rolled off her. When he got off the bed and headed to the bathroom, the cracks appeared in her heart. It was the same every damn time, but it seemed to worsen now. She bit her lip to stop the useless words on the tip of her tongue from coming out and then rolled over to look outside the enormous, picturesque windows at the far end of her bedroom. It was still dark, so there was nothing to see, but it gave her something else to focus on.

Roman didn’t say anything once he came out of his shower and walked into the dressing room. He kept clothes here for times like this.

When he came out again, she knew he was his usual composed self in one of his ridiculously expensive suits. She knew that even his hair would be perfectly tamed as if she hadn’t been tugging on it all night. No one would ever believe he’d spent hours in her bed because he never left any evidence.

She heard him going through the clothes they had carelessly discarded a few hours ago. It was the same routine. He’d empty his pockets and then put his clothes in the basket for them to be taken to the dry cleaners at some point in the week when she got the chance. Then he would pull out his wallet and say the words that always broke her heart.

“Thank you for a pleasurable night, Evelyn,” he said.

She rolled over to face him and smiled at him. It was probably too bright, and he was too perceptive not to see how fake it was. But he never said anything.

“You know you don’t need to thank me,” she answered.

She did the countdown in her head. Three... Two... One...

As if on cue, he took his wallet out and pulled out a bunch of notes.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that. I still have some,” she said quickly. “And my allowance is more than enough.”

“Your wages,” Roman corrected.

The cracks in her heart increased.

“Right. Yes, my wages. You don’t need to leave any money.”

“It doesn’t hurt to have more,” Roman said, brushing her off as he dropped the cash on the side table. “Buy yourself something pretty. I’m sorry I ruined your lingerie again.”

Her cheeks were starting to twitch from the fake smile on her lips.

“Sure,” she said.

She couldn’t argue with him. No one could argue with Roman Ashfield.

“I’ll see you again at the same time next week,” he said, already walking out of the bedroom.

Same time next week. Her heart cracked all the way until it was in pieces.

Roman didn’t stop to kiss her or ask what her plans for the day were or tell her he’d miss her while he was at work. He didn’t promise to try to see her sooner or make up any other lie that would mend her heart. He stuck to the contract to the letter.

He was just gone.

In the middle of the night, as if he had a wife to go home to. The real reason Roman rushed home was to sleep before doing whatever he did on Saturdays.

He could have stayed, but she wasn’t good enough for him. And yet here she was, stupidly in love with the bastard.

She turned into her pillow to muffle her sobs. She would feel the effects of his love-making for days after this. How could someone make her feel so good one minute and then like shit the very next? How was she supposed to live like this?

Was she the only one who felt like this? Roman had become a part of her, so ingrained in her heart that she couldn’t imagine what she would do once he terminated her contract. Maybe she could ask him. Just to know where she stood, once and for all.

She lifted her face from her pillow and wiped her tears.

Yes, that was what she would do. She would put her big girl panties on and ask him how he felt about her. What harm could it do?