I received a glare in response, and all I could think of was how insane this was—all of it.
But I had no choice. If I backed out now, I'd lose the chance at the million dollars. At least, I wasn't getting pimped.
I took a breath and murmured my line. "I forgive you."
Immediately, Hansel's demeanour changed.
His eyes softened. The cold, intimidating man I'd met when I first came in disappeared and in his place stood someone else. Someone vulnerable who looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
"You do?" his voice sounded different, too.
The change was so complete it took my breath away. This was what good acting looked like.
"I do," I said, staying in character. "My heart raced. "I can't help it. Even after everything, I still—"
"Still what?" he stepped closer. So close now that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.
"I still love you," I whispered.
The air charged between us.
That scent from earlier surrounded me now, filling my lungs with every breath, making me dizzy.
He tilted his head, studying me with those storm-grey eyes. Then, without warning, he caught my chin lightly between his fingers.
The first brush of his lips was brief, just like acting. Then it changed. His other hand came up to cradle my face. His lips moved against mine with more pressure.
His hand slid from my chin to the back of my neck, holding me in place as his mouth claimed mine again and again.
A soft sound escaped me before I could stop it, and I kissed him back. I couldn't help it.
Heat flooded through my body. My hands came up on their own, gripping the front of his shirt. The scent around him intensified, passing through my body with a deliciousness that awakened me.
It was in my nose, in my mouth, in my lungs. It made me want him more. It made me press closer to him.
He made a low sound in his throat as his hands slid from my face down to my waist, pulling me against him.
I should stop. The script didn't say the kiss was supposed to go on like this. This wasn't part of my task.
Suddenly, he pulled back, and our gazes met. His eyes had changed; they looked darker and wilder. His chest rose and fell with heavy breath, and for one second, neither of us moved.
Then he whispered, or rather, asked a question. "Mate?"
Mate? What did that mean? Was that supposed to be some password to help me understand the next step of my task?
But before I could answer, his mouth was on mine again.
This kiss was nothing like the first. This was more desperate; it was as if he threw caution to the wind.
One of his hands tangled in my hair while the other slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His lips traced wet kisses down my jaw, across my neck, stopping to nibble at the hollow at the base of my neck, making me shiver with want.
His tongue swept across my bottom lip, and I opened for him without thinking. The taste of whiskey filled my mouth, mingling with that scent from before that seemed to intoxicate me.
He gripped my waist tighter, lifting me slightly. My feet left the ground as he turned and pressed my back against the wall.
The impact should have hurt, but it didn't. I barely felt it.
All I could feel was him. His mouth on mine. His body pressed against me as he kissed me with so much fervour.
One of his hands slid up my side, skimming over my ribs. His thumb brushed the underside of my breast, and I gasped into his mouth.
He pulled back, just enough to look at me. "How is this possible? How can you be my mate when you're human?"
Through my hazy, lust-filled brain, I tried to understand his words, but they didn't make sense. I just concluded it was part of the script.
His hands cupped my breast, rubbing at my engorged nipple through my gown. I bucked with pleasure, moaning against his mouth as my legs instinctively wrapped around him.
His mouth skimmed over my neck, stopping to kiss the bulge of my cleavage peeking out of the gown. His hands found the zipper at the back of my dress, and in one smooth motion, he zipped it open.
My hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. There were too many and too small.
I groaned with frustration, but that only seemed to fuel his passion more. He grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head with one of his.
With his other hand, he pushed my dress off my shoulders. The red fabric pooled at my feet, and I stood there in just my underwear.
His eyes dragged down my body, slowly, as if he was taking in every inch.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he said hoarsely.
His pupils had gone totally black; that alone should have had me scrambling out of the room, but the need… the lust I felt pulsing through every part of my body. If I didn't have this man, I would die.
He released my hands and stepped back. With a tug, he pulled his shirt over his head.
His body was perfect—all lean muscle and tanned skin. A tattoo curved over his ribs, written in a language I didn't recognise.
He closed the distance between us again. His hands settled on my hips, gripping them possessively.
He lifted me, and my legs wrapped around his waist automatically.
He carried me across the suite, toward the bed and laid me gently on the silk sheets.
He paused for a moment and slipped out of his pants, left with just his briefs, like me, before coming to join me on the bed, lying next to me with the ease of a pagan god practising a love rite.
His mouth found mine again, trailing wet kisses along my jaw, down my neck, while his hand expertly worked at my bra strap. I arched into him, exploring every muscle at his back, loving the way his body shivered when I touched him.
Every time he kissed me, the pull in my chest tightened, feeling me with an unexplainable love for him.
This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.
But God, it felt real.
He succeeded in removing my bra and took one large nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it as he suckled. I clasped his head to me, moaning like a banshee as my body basked in the desires that filled me.
While his mouth was on my puckered nips, his hands slid up my thigh, massaging the insides of my thighs softly as he slid higher, just as his hands skimmed over my wetness, his phone rang.
I froze. The ringing of the phone seemed to bring me back to reality, and I pushed him back, trying to untangle myself from his embrace.
He noticed my struggling and pulled back slightly, looking down at me. His pupils were still black.
"What is it?" he asked hoarsely.
"Your phone," I pointed at the bar where his phone was flashing nonstop. It's ringing."
"Ignore it," he said and tried to kiss me again, but I dodged him, slipping out of the weight of his body as I grabbed the sheets and settled them awkwardly around my nakedness.
"I'm not sure this is part of the script," I murmured, refusing to meet his eyes.
I felt him staring at me, but I refused to look at him.
I was here to drug him, take compromising photos and get a million dollars so I could save my mother.
Not whatever this was.
His phone rang again, and I heard him curse under his breath as he rolled from the bed and walked across the room to grab it from the bar.
"Hello," he said gruffly and started walking out of the room, towards the balcony.
This was my cue.
Thankfully, he was almost naked now, so all I needed to do was put him to sleep.
I ran silently across the room to where my purse was, fumbling as I zipped it open and brought out the vial.
I could still hear his grunts coming from the balcony. He was still on the call.
I hurried to the bar, trying to control the tremors that shook my hand. I broke open the vial and poured the clear liquid into his unfinished whiskey glass, swirling it to mix.
I placed it back, carefully positioning it as he did. Satisfied that everything was as he had left it, I turned to go back to my position.
When I turned, Hansel was standing a few feet away, watching me.