By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Yeah?” Her voice floats through the air and fuck if my dick doesn’t react.

I’ve been rocking a semi all fucking day. There aren’t enough unsexy thoughts in the world capable of sinking it.

It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that I need to wait, that I need to hear her answer; my body craves her in a way I was not expecting.

She’s always been hot, sure. But this attraction, this chemistry between us is off the charts. I’m at the point of needing her more than my next breath. It’s all I can think about.

“Can I come in?”

“If you’re asking if I’m naked, then yes, I very much am,” she counters, making me smirk.

“Good. That’s what I was hoping for,” I say as I push the door open and march in.

Sadly, she’s totally covered in bubbles, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t look hot as fuck. Her cheeks are pink from the heat of the water and her hair is up in a messy bun, but she’s got sweaty strands sticking to the side of her face and neck. Just like she would after an hour or two rolling around in my bed…

“You’re staring,” she points out, barely able to contain her smile.

I shrug one shoulder. “Want to return the favor?” I ask before reaching behind me and pulling my t-shirt from my body.

“Wh-wh—” She swallows her words as I turn around and tuck my thumbs into my shorts and boxers.

My skin prickles with her attention as I step into the shower and turn it on. I get blasted with ice-cold water, but it does very little to deal with my boner.

There’s only one thing that’s going to get rid of that…

Reaching for my shower gel, I make quick work of washing up, ensuring I keep my back to her at all times.

I might be up for giving her a thrill again, but I’ve got to keep some things secret. Like how much I want her…

As soon as I’m done, I reach for a towel and wrap it around my waist. One look down and I know that I’m not going to hide anything when I do turn around.

I mean, I could walk out of the room like a crab to try and hide it, or I could just⁠—

The second I face her, her eyes drop to my wet chest and then lower.

Her chin drops and her tongue sneaks out, licking across her bottom lip.

Fuck. That does not help.

“I’ve ordered dinner. It’ll be an hour,” I inform her, ignoring the elephant in the room. “I’m going to leave something on the bed for you to wear.” I pause. “Please, wear it. And do your hair and makeup.”

“But we’re staying in.” She frowns.

I smile at her. “Staying in is the new going out, baby,” I explain.

She raises a brow, but the soft smile playing on her lips lets me know that I’ve got her.

“Be a good girl, Tate,” I say, remembering how her entire expression softened when I used her nickname earlier. “And I might make it worth your while.”

I move toward the door before she gets a chance to respond.

“You’ve said that before, and I don’t remember it being anywhere near worth it.”

“Well, maybe tonight will be your lucky night.” And mine.

I close the door softly behind me before getting dressed and leaving my outfit of choice for her laid out on the bed as promised.

Honestly, I’m not expecting to see her wearing it when she walks out of the bedroom in the near future. It’s why I place two other options in the closet and then take her suitcase with me into the living area to ensure the only way she can truly defy me is to come out naked—and I can say for sure that I would not be complaining about that.

I might have been the one to plan this night, but even still, I’m surprised by it when I emerge from the bedroom and look around.

I shake my head in disbelief. How did my life go from a new woman every night of the week to having only one in my head, only one that my body is interested in?

Okay, yeah, part of tonight is about getting her into bed, but I don’t need to be going to these levels. She’s offered herself up to me more than once now. I’m the one that’s holding back.

I’ve no idea when hell froze over, but apparently, it has, because I’m standing here surrounded by more romance than I knew existed just because I want to make her smile. Because I want her to look at me and see more than her brother’s annoying friend, the man she has to marry.

I want her to see me for me. Not KC, the player. Not Mr, Callahan, the businessman. I want her to see Kingston, the man who can’t stop thinking about her, the man who wants to make this year we have together as enjoyable and as easy as possible.

Hell, who am I kidding? I want her to see that and so much more. Just like I do when I look at her.

“Are you happy, sir?” the young woman who has assisted me with this asks.

“Yeah, it looks incredible,” I say.

“The food is in the oven. It’ll be ready in about forty minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you have a wonderful night.”

She fusses with a few final things before she bids me farewell and disappears.

Nerves flutter in my stomach as I look around the room and then focus on the bedroom door.

Tatum is…bewildering. Sometimes I can predict exactly how she’ll react to things; other times, I get it very, very wrong. Last night was a case in point.

I never in a million years would have thought she’d run because I didn’t propose and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

I also didn’t expect her to fall into my arms and shatter while allowing me to hold her together.

After a few minutes, there is noise on the other side of the cabin, letting me know that Tatum is out of the bath.

It only makes the flutters in my stomach worse.

I’ve never doubted myself and my decisions before, but there is something about Tatum that makes me feel like a teenage boy who has no idea how to talk to a girl again.

I waste the next forty minutes pacing back and forth through the cabin as our dinner bakes in the oven. It smells incredible, and my stomach growls loudly every few minutes.

I stare at the clock on the wall, watching every minute pass slowly and painfully.

She’s going to torture me by making me wait again, I’ve no doubt.

Fuck. This was a stupid idea.

Lifting my hand, I comb my fingers through my hair, dragging it back until it hurts in the hope that a little bit of pain will sort my head out.

Standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcase Lake Michigan, I focus on the stars that are reflecting in the inky, dark water.

My breath catches when a door behind me opens. I glance at the clock to see that she’s early.

Little minx is teasing me.

“Oh my god, Kingston.” She gasps, taking in what I’ve done.

Drawing in a slow, calming breath, I close my eyes for a beat before turning around.

Oh my god, indeed.

“Tatum,” I whisper, my eyes darting around her, not knowing what to focus on first.

The black, figure-hugging dress with thin straps and a square neckline I left out for her is as perfect as I imagined.

No, that’s bullshit. It’s better.

How that is possible, I have no idea. But it is.

She takes a step toward me, her hips swaying, her small fists clenching beside them as if she’s just as nervous as I am.

“You look incredible. That dress⁠—”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you. This place…how did you⁠—”

“I had a little help. The bath was a distraction,” I confess, feeling my cheeks heat as I glance around at the vases of roses, the flickering candles and the fairy lights that are strung up everywhere.

“It’s incredible. You did this for me?” she asks in disbelief, her eyes getting a little glassy.

“Nah,” I say, making her rear back. “This is just how I like to spend my Saturday nights.”

She raises a brow.

“It’s usually me in the bubble bath, though.”

She shakes her head, smiling at me like I’m the biggest idiot she’s ever met.

“You take bubble baths?” she asks, placing her hand on her waist and popping her hip.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

“No. I haven’t been in a bathtub since I was about eight.”

“We’re going to have to fix that,” she muses, moving closer again. “So,” says, glancing between me and the decorations around us. “What’s this all about?”

“A date.”

“A date?”

“Dinner is nearly ready. Staying in is the new going out, remember?”

Reaching out, I twist my fingers through hers and tug her forward, closing the final few inches between us.

Her soft curves press against the hard planes of my body. My fingers grip her hip, pulling her in tight enough to me that she can’t possibly miss the thickness of my dick against her stomach.

“I remember,” she whispers, gazing up at me.

Her red lips call to me.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me, Mr. Callahan.”

I chuckle. It’s breathy and full of desperation.

“I’m not sure any trying is necessary,” I confess.

She gasps at the insinuation.

“I’ll have you know that I’m⁠—”

I lean in, letting my lips graze her cheek before getting to her ear.

“Soaking fucking wet for me,” I whisper, loving the way she shudders against me.

“For you? Never.”

“Such a pretty little liar,” I muse before dropping my lips to the sweet spot beneath her ear.

“Oh my god,” she moans as I gently suck on the sweet patch of skin. She sags against me, letting me know that my previous words are more than true.

I lick her skin, tasting her before forcing myself to step back.

“Would you like a drink?”

It takes her a moment to respond, and I can’t stop the cocky smirk that spreads across her lips as she watches me stalk toward the kitchen for two glasses of champagne.

She’s going to say yes.

She has to say yes. We can’t go another night without doing something about this tension between us. It’s at its boiling point, and I can’t wait to discover just how explosive it is when we finally let it bubble over.

She lets out a little shriek when I pop the cork on the bottle of fizz. I pour us both a glass before walking back over to her and handing her one.

“Are we celebrating?” she asks, studying the bubbles before glancing back up at me.

“Us.”

“King, there is no⁠—”

“To our future. Our union.”

“Do you celebrate all your business deals like this?” she asks, her eyes bouncing between mine, silently begging for me to tell her no.

“I’ve never had a business deal quite this important before. I’m flying by the seat of my pants right now.”

“Well, I can assure you, you’re doing a fantastic job.”

My chest puffs out at her praise. Never before have I cared about a woman’s opinion of me outside of my skills in the bedroom. But suddenly, I want Tatum to think that everything I touch turns to gold, that I’m so much more than I truly am.