The Kiss

The penthouse was dimly lit when I arrived, just a few lamps creating pools of warm light. Kieran stood by the windows, dressed in casual pants and a simple t-shirt that somehow made him look more dangerous than the expensive suits.

"Couldn't sleep either?" I asked, hovering near the elevator.

"Rarely do." He turned to face me. "Want a drink?"

"I've had enough alcohol for one lifetime."

His smile was slight. "Tea, then."

I followed him to the kitMiles—an actual kitMiles in a hotel penthouse, all gleaming appliances and marble counters. He moved around it with easy familiarity, filling a kettle, selecting tea bags from an organized drawer.

"You live here," I realized. "This isn't just a suite. This is your home."

"One of them." He leaned against the counter while the water heated. "I have properties in several cities. But I've been in Blackstone for the past six months, dealing with Vivienne's engagement drama."

"Why not just forbid it? You're her father. You have that right."

"Because forbidding Vivienne to do anything is the surest way to make her do it twice as hard." He poured the hot water over the tea bags. "She's stubborn. Gets it from me, unfortunately. The more I push, the more she'll cling to Ethan just to prove a point."

"So you're using me to manipulate her into making a different choice."

"I'm giving her evidence that Ethan isn't worthy of her devotion." He handed me a cup. "There's a difference."

I took a sip—chamomile, perfect for sleepless nights. "What if it doesn't work? What if she marries him anyway?"

"Then I'll have tried everything I could." He met my eyes over his own cup. "But I don't think it will come to that. Ethan's already cracking. Did you see his face when we danced?"

I had. He had looked murderous.

"He texted me tonight. From a new number."

Kieran's expression darkened. "What did he say?"

I showed him the messages. I watched his jaw tighten as he read.

"Block it," he said flatly. "And any other number he tries. He doesn't get to have you when it's convenient and discard you when it's not."

"I already did."

"Good." He set down his cup. "Aurelia, I need you to understand something. The next few weeks are going to be difficult. People will say cruel things, and your reputation will be questioned. Friends will turn on you. Are you prepared for that?"

Was I? I thought about Sage's face when I slapped her. About the comments online. About my mother's disappointed voice.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I know I can't go back to who I was before. That girl, is dead. Ethan killed her when he rejected me."

"Then we build someone new." Kieran moved closer. "Someone stronger. Someone who doesn't break."

"Is that what you did? When your marriage fell apart?"

His expression shuttered. "We're not talking about me."

"Why not? You know everything about my pain. Seems fair I should know about yours."

For a long moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair—the first truly unguarded gesture I'd seen from him.

"My ex-wife, Charlotte, is Vivienne's mother and the most ambitious woman I've ever met. She married me for power, for access to the Lycan world, for the status it would bring her family. I was young and stupid enough to think ambition could turn into love." His laugh was bitter. "It didn't. We made each other miserable for fifteen years before finally admitting defeat. The divorce was... ugly. Vivienne was caught in the middle, used as a weapon by both sides. I swore I would never let anyone manipulate her like that again."

"But Charlotte is doing exactly that with this engagement."

"Yes. And I'm trying to stop it without becoming the same kind of manipulator she is." He looked at me, and I saw vulnerability there for the first time. "Which is why I need you to know—this arrangement between us, it's real in the sense that I genuinely want to help you. But it's also strategic. I won't pretend otherwise."

"I appreciate the honesty."

"Do you?" He stepped closer. "Because most people prefer comfortable lies to uncomfortable truths."

"I've had enough lies to last a lifetime." I set down my teacup. "If we're doing this, I want honesty. Even when it hurts."

"Deal." He extended his hand.

I took it, expecting a handshake. Instead, he pulled me closer, his other hand rising to cup my face. My breath caught.

"What are you—"

"Testing something," he murmured. "May I?"

I should have said no. Should have stepped back, reminded him this was an arrangement, nothing more.

Instead, I nodded.

His kiss was nothing like I expected. Gentle, questioning, giving me every opportunity to pull away. His lips were soft against mine, tasting of tea and something darker, more complex. My hands found his chest, felt his heart beating as fast as mine.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.

"Well," I managed. "That was—"

"A mistake," he said, but didn't release me. "We shouldn't complicate this."

"Definitely not."

"It would be incredibly unprofessional."

"Completely inappropriate."

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and I stopped thinking about should and shouldn't and lost myself in the feeling of being wanted. Not as a political pawn, not as a rejected mate, but as myself.

When we finally broke apart, I was dizzy.

"I should go," I whispered.

"You should." But his hands were still on my waist.

"The interview is in five hours."

"Four and a half now."

"Kieran…"

"I know." He finally released me, stepping back. His expression was carefully controlled again, the vulnerability locked away. "This was a mistake, It won't happen again."

The words stung more than they should have. "Right. Of course."

I practically ran to the elevator, my lips still burning from his kiss. What the hell was I doing? This was supposed to be an arrangement. A business deal not whatever that was.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside, hitting the button for my floor. As the doors started to close, I caught one last glimpse of Kieran, still standing where I had left him, looking as confused as I felt.

Back in my room, I touched my lips, remembering. My wolf was practically singing, delighted by the attention from someone so powerful. But my rational mind knew this was dangerous.

Falling for Kieran Thornhart wasn't part of the plan.

Getting revenge on Ethan was the plan. Saving my father was the plan. Building a new life was the plan.

Kissing my fake boyfriend in his penthouse at three in the morning? That was just asking for disaster.

My phone buzzed—a calendar reminder. “Interview with Blackstone Chronicle - 8:00 AM”

Four hours to pull myself together. Four hours to remember why I was doing this.

Four hours to forget how Kieran's lips felt against mine.

I was definitely going to need more tea.