Chapter three - Contract signing

Eve POV

For some reason, I found his words intimate, as if he were flirting with me, especially with the way he was staring. Or perhaps it's all in my head, I thought, trying not to get distracted by how ridiculously good-looking he was.

"Sorry?" I asked, needing to be sure I'd heard him correctly.

"What I'm trying to say is that I too need a fake girlfriend for the time I'll be in the country, which happens to be exactly six months. So, while I'm helping you, you're also helping me. Therefore, I see no need for any payment," he explained, his gaze unwavering.

"Alright, then… though you'll have to go through this and sign so we can make it official," I said, handing him a copy of the contract document.

I watched him closely and patiently as he reviewed it. "This, this, and this wouldn't do," he said, marking points with his pen.

"Clause number three says no PDA in public?" he asked, looking up.

"What about it?" I replied, though I already knew what he was about to insinuate. "I don't want anyone touching me inappropriately and without my consent, especially in public," I said, defending my point. He just laughed, a mocking sound that immediately grated on my nerves.

"What's so funny?" I asked, gritting my teeth. But he just kept laughing. He looked ridiculously handsome while laughing, so I couldn't hold onto my anger for long.

"You haven't been in a relationship, have you?" he asked, his gaze piercing. I ignored him, annoyed that he was getting under my skin.

"For starters," he continued, "as soon as I sign this document, I'll automatically become your boyfriend. To you, i might be fake, but to the public and whoever you're trying to fool, I'm your boyfriend. As such, we should behave as couples do in public, naturally. This includes holding hands, hugging, date nights, lunch dates, kissing, and all other forms of PDA. That's the only way anyone will believe us. Unless, of course, you're afraid of intimacy," he added, the last part said with a deliberate challenge.

"I'm not!" I retorted, hating that he was getting to me.

I understood everything he said; it made sense. But I was still skeptical because he seemed like a flirt, and I couldn't help wondering what he'd do when we were out in public.

"Fine, then, but don't overdo it," I reluctantly conceded.

"Alright, cool. Clause number four says, 'no surprise visits to the office or home'… that doesn't make sense," he argued, his brow furrowed.

"Why doesn't it? I need to prepare myself whenever you're coming, to keep up the act, just as you will," I countered.

"But I love surprises, and as your boyfriend, I would always want to surprise you with gifts, lunch, and… kisses," he said simply, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

"Are you serious?" I asked, the last part of his words finally registering. He just laughed at me again.

"I'm sorry, I was messing with you," he said simply, then resumed skimming through the contract.

How can he joke about something like that? I mumbled to myself.

"Finally, clause seven says 'no sleepovers'. Surely, that's an error?" he asked, looking at me for an explanation.

"It isn't," I said plainly.

"Again, as my girlfriend, I and probably others will expect you to sleep over when I'm hosting a private event at my place or yours. It might not be in the same room, but you can't just leave with the other guests," he argued, making a valid point.

Why are his points always reasonable, making me look so naive? I cried inwardly.

"Fine, scratch it," I said, exasperated.

I hadn't expected this to be so exhausting.

I watched him go through it once again before finally signing, then I followed suit.

"I hope we reach our goals," he said, extending his hand for a handshake.

"Thank you for accepting my request. You saved me from my mum's shenanigans," I said, taking his hand.

"I only accept dinners as a token of gratitude," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You want me to buy you dinner?" I asked, surprised. He simply nodded.

"Are you always like this?" I blurted out, annoyance bubbling up. I honestly didn't know why I was getting so worked up.

"Like what?" he asked innocently.

"Annoying, for one…" I trailed off, hearing him chuckle at my word. "Chatty… sociable?" I immediately regretted the last word as soon as it left my mouth.

"I promise you, I'm not love, I can assure you," he said, the way he said it, coupled with the sharp look in his eyes, startled me. He looked like an entirely different person.

"Don't call me that," I said sharply, but he just smiled and continued to annoy me. "Yes, love," he repeated, a teasing glint in his eyes.

I took a deep breath to suppress my irritation, then pressed the button beneath the table. Instantly, the manager and a waiter appeared to take our orders.

He took my phone as soon as the waiters cleared the table, typing something into it.

"What are you doing? Give it back," I said, annoyed that he'd taken my phone without asking.

"Dialing my number and saving it in yours," he replied, handing the phone back.

I stared at the caller ID, surprised at what he'd saved his number as: Mi amor.

"You cannot be serious. I'm changing it back to your name," I said, about to do just that when he said something that shocked me.

"I'll kiss you as soon as we leave this room, and in front of everyone, if you change that caller ID," he said, smiling at me.

"Is that a threat?" I asked, irritated by his audacity. He just kept smiling.

I took a quick, deep breath, trying to calm my already raging temper. I'm not going to lose my cool over some guy.

"If you'll excuse me," I said, standing and grabbing my bag. He, too, stood and walked ahead of me, his smile still present.

He stopped in front of me, blocking my path, staring with that same infuriating smile.

"I'll take you home then," he said, opening the door for me.

I walked out, speechless, with absolutely no energy left to argue with him. As soon as we stepped out of the suite into the main restaurant, he snaked his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers together.

"Just act natural," he murmured, his breath tickling my ear as we headed outside. The sudden warmth against my neck sent a shiver down my spine, a reaction I couldn't quite explain.

"You seem to be quite popular," he observed, still holding my hand as we waited for the valet to bring my car around.

Curiosity piqued, I asked him why he thought so. He simply gestured towards the scattered photographers, lurking in the shadows, their cameras trained on us. I sighed, already guessing my mother had something to do with that.

Before I could take the key from the valet, he smoothly intercepted it, opening the car door with a flourish. A few moments later, we were speeding away, destination unknown.

"Where do you live?" he asked casually.

"That's on a need-to-know basis," I retorted, looking straight ahead, already anticipating his next argument.

"Well, as your boyfriend, I do need to know. I need to be sure you get home safe," he said simply.

The genuine concern in his voice was so clear, so undeniable, that I found myself unable to argue.

"Da Vinci Estate, Crescent Mansion," I conceded, leaning my head against the cool glass of the car window.