Bellamy stares straight ahead at the elevator buttons, watching each one light up as we go up the floors of the building to the penthouse.

Her cheeks are still as red as they were in the green room, back at the news studio.

“For someone who wishes this was real, you look totally mortified.”

She shoots a look at me and steps closer. “I can’t believe we did that. That poor assistant—”

“—has probably seen worse.”

“Utterly inappropriate.”

“You could look at it that way.” I brush my fingers down the sleeve of Bellamy’s coat. “Or you could look at it as an authentic moment.”

“Did it have to be in the green room?”

“You were fighting with me in the green room. Is that any less mortifying?”

Somehow, Bellamy turns a deeper shade of red. “No. It’s all bad.”

I stab my finger into the emergency stop button, and the elevator shudders to a halt, half a floor away from the penthouse. Bellamy’s hand flies to her chest. “Graham! Jesus, what are you—”

I back her up against the wall and put my hands on the side of her face.

Bellamy’s gray eyes, shot through with violet, are huge and bright. Is she panting? “Did you mean what you said back there? Or were you just having a moment?”

She bites her lip. “I meant it.”

“Then it wasn’t all bad.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

I swallow her words with a kiss. She tastes sweet on my tongue, mint and sugar and shame, but more than that, she tastes like pure, unadulterated relief. Her lips against mine are a sigh of contentment. The contentment lasts one heartbeat, then another, and deepens into heat and struggle.

Bellamy pulls away with a gasp. “We can’t do this here. There are...they probably have cameras, in case—”

I drag my lips down the side of her neck. “I don’t care. There are always cameras on us. That’s the point of us.” I plant light kisses below her earlobe and she trembles in my arms. “That was the point of us. Until now.”

She pushes at me, but I’m bigger and stronger, and I want her close. I want her close enough to nip at that soft earlobe, my teeth brushing up against the simple diamond stud she’s wearing. She grips the shoulders of my coat. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

“Then don’t.”

“We’re— Graham, we’re in an elevator.” She laughs, and the sound is throaty and lovely, and I want to hear her make that sound a hundred more times, a thousand more. “An elevator. You have a penthouse. Shouldn’t we talk about this there?”

I punch the button again and the elevator glides upward. Bellamy grabs my hand and squeezes tight, tension radiating off every square inch of her.

“Relax.”

“How can I possibly—”

“I have the penthouse. There’s nobody else up there, other than the staff.”

“The staff. Right.” She laughs. “How can I date a man who has staff?”

The door slides open, and I press my lips to the curve of her neck.

“Okay. Okay. That’s how.”

She’s all jitters as we head into the foyer, nervously putting her purse in the center of one of the tables there.

“Bellamy.”

“Yeah?” Those eyes, wide and innocent. Is she shy?

“You don’t have to do this.”

The pink in her cheeks gets darker. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to force this because you’re looking for—” I run a hand through my hair. Bellamy glows in the afternoon light coming through the living room window, her hair a fiery blonde. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but don’t make this a marriage of convenience.”

She wrinkles her nose. “You did not just say that.”

“All I meant is, you can walk away.”

She does walk, one step after another, until there is only the barest space between us. She breathes in, long and slow, her eyes fluttering closed, like the air carries her favorite scent in the world. When she opens them again, there’s a look of hard determination there. “I think about you at night.”

It’s not what I expected. “Let’s be...accurate.” She laughs. “You think about me when the sun has gone down, or—”

“You ass.”

I take her hands in mine and brush my lips across her knuckles. “Tell me.”

“It was the strangest thing.” Her eyes fall to our hands. I can practically feel her gaze land there, feather light. “You were such a prick, that first day I met you, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And not the way you refused to take the money. How strong your hands were. The way your voice sounded.”

“That’s not altogether uncommon.”

“Yeah...” Bellamy sighs, her eyes lighting up. “But after that meeting—”

“The meeting where I won you over with my wit and charm?”

“The meeting where you called me a whore, just like everyone else on the planet?”

“I did not.”

“You did.” Her eyes are earnest.

“I couldn’t possibly have.”

“‘Everyone’s a whore for something, sweetness. What’s your price?’”

I laugh. “I did say that.”

“I’m nobody’s whore, Graham.”

“No,” I murmur against her neck. “No, you’re a princess, sweetness.”

She scoffs. “I’m not that, either.”

“You’re right. You’re a queen. And I’m taking you directly to bed.”

Bellamy puts one hand on my chest. “No.”

I straighten up. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’m not giving it up on the first date.”

I groan. “Oh, my God. You’re fucking with me.”

“A date,” she insists. “A real date. No walls. No bullshit.”

I take her hand in mine. “Then get your purse. We’re leaving right now.”