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Baldwin winks at him, wearing a smug grin as he leans against the edge of the pool. “You’re welcome.”

“Whatever plans you idiots have for the night, Kierra isn’t one of them. Understood?” Vance calls over the laughter from across the pool. His tone is light enough to earn a few chuckles, but the warning within it is unmistakable.

Beckett lifts both hands in mock surrender, backing away from Kiki.

I climb out of the hot tub and make my way toward Vance, wrapping my arms around myself against the November air. “Thank you,” I tell him softly. I barely get the words out before he lurches from the water, his hand wrapping around my wrist. He gives a sharp tug as he falls into the water, pulling me toward him and straight into the pool.

The cold hits me like a shock. Gasping, I push through the surface, instinctively grabbing his shoulders as he pulls me into his chest, the heat of his body pressed to mine a welcome contrast to the frigid water.

His mouth finds mine before I can protest. The kiss is deep and passionate, stealing whatever complaint was forming on my lips. I melt into him, my fingers curling into his wet hair, until I feel the unmistakable throb of his cock between us. When I gasp against his mouth, his lips curve into a knowing smile. “Guess the water isn’t as cold as Beckett thought.”

The hand resting on my thigh slides upward, gripping my hip to pull me more firmly against him, grinding that hard, insistent length against my stomach. “You have no idea how badly I want to be inside you, sweetheart.” The possessive rumble of his words vibrates over my lips. “I can’t get enough of you,” he growls, nipping at my lower lip. The hand on my hip slides lower, cupping my ass with a proprietary squeeze that leaves no doubt as to his intentions. “Now, go say good night to your sister, so I can spend the night fucking my beautiful wife to put a baby in her.”

He places a chaste kiss against my lips before nudging me toward the ladder. After climbing from the pool, I hurry toward the waiting towels and slip into a plush terry robe, wrapping it tightly around myself while Vance watches me with a devilish smile.

I take a seat on one of the lounge chairs, pulling my robe tighter around myself as Vance plants his hands on the deck and hauls himself out of the pool in one fluid motion. Water runs off him in sheets, tracing the broad planes of his shoulders, the hard lines of his chest and abdomen, the muscles tapering toward his hips, where his swim trunks cling to him, leaving very little to the imagination.

He reaches for a towel and drags it through his wet hair, the movement flexing his shoulders before he finally secures it around his waist.

I stare for a moment longer than I should. Sometimes I can’t believe that, while it’s a sham, that man is my husband. He’s mine. And I get to love him. The thought rises, quiet and completely unbidden, as my gaze drifts across the pool to where Vance is standing with Baldwin, apparently discussing something with his towel slung low around his hips. His eyes catch mine, and the corner of his mouth ticks upward, spreading an unfamiliar warmth through my chest.

“I love him,” I whisper to myself.

“I’d hope so.” I jerk around to find Kiki dropping onto the lounge chair beside me with a wet squelch, wrapping a fresh rope tight around her shoulders. “He’s your husband.”

I freeze for a moment, not realizing she thinks I’m stating the obvious. She doesn’t know what I’ve just confessed. “Right.” My voice comes out too high. “Exactly. That’s what I meant. That I love him. Because we’re married. And that’s… what married people do. They love each other. Obviously.”

Smooth, Sophia. Fucking smooth.

“Obviously,” Kiki echoes, amusement curling through her voice.

She settles farther into the chair, apparently satisfied with my explanation. “Though honestly, Soph, the way you were staring at him a second ago, I was starting to worry you were going to drag him into the bushes.”

“Kiki!”

“What?” She grins. “I’m just saying. The tension between you two is ridiculous. If you don’t stop looking at each other like that, I’m going to have to ask Beckett to throw me back into the pool so I can cool off.”

I force out a laugh as my elated heart sinks.

I love him. Which means accepting that I may be married to a man who will never be mine in the way I am his. And I don’t know how long I can convince myself that being wanted is enough when what I crave is to be loved.

The lake house disappears in the rearview mirror, swallowed by the tunnel of barren autumn trees. Spending the weekend away from the city gave me a glimpse of what life with Sophia could be. One where I could be the man she needs, instead of the man my father spent his entire life ensuring I’d become. But that isn’t our life. It isn’t my life. But for a moment, I wanted to believe I could have it.

Sophia sits in the passenger seat beside me, angled toward the window, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape as though she, too, can feel the distance regrowing between us.

She’s been quiet since we woke this morning, barely saying a word.

And for once, I don’t know what she wants from me. I know how to handle anger. Fear. Defiance. But silence? I don’t know what the hell she expects me to do with it.

She’s seen the worst parts of me. The cruelty. The calculation. The blackmail that brought her to my bed.

I’m not a man who loves. I’m a man who acquires, controls, takes what he wants, and makes damn sure no one can fucking take it from him.

She knows what I am… But she also knows she’s mine.

“We need to stop,” she suddenly blurts. Her voice is tight, unusual enough that my attention snaps toward her. I find her looking pale, her knuckles white, gripping the door handle, and her eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the glass.

“What’s wrong?”