THE WOMAN OF MY DREAMS

CHAPTER TWO

The air in the master bedroom shattered the exact moment Elena’s arms locked around Xavier’s neck.

Xavier froze. It wasn't the fluid, calculated pause of a man deciding his next move; it was the absolute, violent paralysis of a machine hitting a fatal error. Every single cord of muscle in his broad, towering frame went completely rigid under his tailored white shirt. The predatory aura that usually radiated from him the cold, untouchable billionaire who commanded boardrooms and ruined empires with a stroke of a pen vanished, replaced by a suffocating, breathless stillness.

For a fraction of a second, his hands twitched at his sides. His long fingers hovered just inches away from the silk covering her hips, a microscopic distance from pulling her flush against him. His chest heaved once, a heavy, ragged breath expanding against her soft front, and Elena could feel the frantic, thunderous hammering of his heart. It was beating wildly, a chaotic rhythm that completely betrayed the icy glare he had been giving her just moments before. He could lie with his words, but his body was reacting to her like a man dying of thirst who had just been thrown into a river.

"Let go, Elena," Xavier rasped.

The command lacked its usual smooth, terrifying authority. His voice was raw, stripped bare, scraping past his throat like broken glass. It was an ultimatum, but it carried a dangerous tremor of desperate restraint.

"No," Elena whispered fiercely, burying her face deeper into the warm crook of his neck.

The scent of him expensive cedar wood, rich whiskey, and pure, intoxicating masculinity flooded her senses, making her head spin. She tightened her grip, her fingers digging into the fabric at the back of his shoulders, anchoring herself to him.

"Six months, Xavier," she choked out, her voice trembling but burning with an unyielding fire. "Six months of living under your roof like a ghost. Six months of you looking right through me as if I’m just an unwanted piece of furniture tied to your family name. You don't get to march into my space, look at me with so much accusation, pretend you don't care, and then just walk away because you’re too much of a coward to face what’s actually happening between us!"

A dark, dangerous shadow crossed Xavier’s face. The word *coward* seemed to snap the final thread of his control.

"I said," he growled, his voice dropping an octave into a guttural register that sent a violent shiver straight down her spine, "let go."

Before she could protest, his massive hands came down. They didn't wrap around her waist to embrace her; instead, his large, calloused palms clamped firmly around her upper arms. His grip was an iron vice, unyielding and absolute. Xavier exerted his immense physical power, but even in his blinding irritation, there was a terrifying, precise calculation to it he pulled her off him with enough force to break her hold, yet carefully enough to ensure his large hands wouldn't leave a single bruise on her fragile skin.

He physically pried her arms from his neck and pushed her back. The distance between them felt sudden and freezing. Elena stumbled slightly, her bare feet gripping the plush rug as she looked up at him, her chest heaving under her silk nightgown, her lips parted in breathless defiance.

Xavier stood a few feet away, his chest rising and falling in heavy, erratic patterns. He looked unraveled. The top two buttons of his shirt were strained, his dark hair was slightly mussed, and his eyes usually a calculated, piercing gray had dilated until they were almost entirely black, swallowing the light of the room. He looked at her not like a businessman looking at a contractual liability, but like a predator trying to remember why he shouldn't tear his prize apart.

"Do not mistake my patience for weakness, Elena," Xavier warned, his voice dangerously low as he straightened his cuffs, a mechanical gesture to regain his fractured composure. "We signed a contract. A legally binding, ironclad agreement. For six months, I have honored every single clause to protect you, to keep your father’s enemies from tracking you down, and to keep the King family legacy intact. I have kept my distance because it was the only way to keep you alive. Do not push me to remind you what happens when the rules are broken."

"The rules are a lie, Xavier!" she countered, taking a daring step forward, refusing to let him retreat into his corporate armor. "You think you’re protecting me by freezing me out? Every time you touch my arm to hand me a glass at a dinner party, or every time your eyes follow me across a room when you think I'm not looking that isn't part of the contract. You want me. You've wanted me since the day we stood at that altar, and you’re terrified of what will happen if you admit it."

Xavier’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently along his cheekbone. He stared down at her, his expression hardening into a mask of pure, untouchable ice. The temporary crack in his armor sealed shut right before her eyes.

"You have a very vivid imagination, my lady," he said, his tone dropping back into that smooth, condescending baritone that made her want to scream. "What you mistake for desire is simply monitoring an investment. An investment that is currently behaving erratically."

Elena flinched slightly at the coldness of his words, but she kept her chin high. "An investment? Is that all I am?"

"That is exactly what this marriage is," he replied coldly, stepping back toward the center of the dark bedroom, completely ignoring the surveillance photos of Julian that still lay scattered near his feet. "And since you are so eager to remind me of my duties as your husband, it’s time you start fulfilling yours properly."

Elena blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "What are you talking about?"

Xavier reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, which he had draped over the back of a nearby armchair earlier, and pulled out a sleek, embossed black invitation. He tossed it carelessly onto the dark mahogany desk. It landed face up, the gold foil lettering catching the dim light.

"Tomorrow night is the annual Apex Global Syndicate Gala," Xavier stated, his voice completely restored to its business-like efficiency. "Every major player in the corporate world will be in that room. My rivals, our investors, and more importantly, the people who are currently trying to liquidate your father’s remaining assets. For the past few months, the media has been speculating about our marriage, whispering that the King-Vance alliance is nothing but a sham."

He walked closer to her, stopping just at the edge of her personal space, towering over her like an inescapable shadow.

"We need to crush those rumors before they affect our stock prices," he continued, his eyes tracking the slight movement of her throat as she swallowed. "Tomorrow, you will put on the most expensive dress you can find. You will wear the King family diamonds. And you will stand by my side, playing the part of the doting, fiercely protected wife of Xavier King."

Elena stared at the invitation, her heart twisting with a complex mix of anger and anticipation. "A public performance. That's your solution to this?"

"It is a strategic necessity," Xavier corrected coldly. "The world needs to see a united front. They need to believe that I am utterly obsessed with you, Elena. Because a man who is obsessed with his wife will destroy anyone who dares to touch her. That fear is the only thing keeping your father's enemies at bay."

He stepped past her, heading toward the heavy double doors of the master suite. Just as his hand gripped the polished brass handle, he paused, looking over his shoulder. The shadows of the room fell across the sharp angles of his face, making him look entirely ruthless.

"Get some rest, Elena," he murmured, his voice dropping into a dark, lingering whisper. "Tomorrow night, the cameras will be watching. And I expect a flawless performance."

The heavy doors clicked shut behind him, leaving Elena alone in the suffocating silence of the room. She turned, her eyes falling on the gold-foiled invitation resting on the desk. She walked over, her fingers brushing the expensive cardstock.

A public performance of obsession. He wanted to fake the very thing he was desperately trying to suppress in the dark.

Elena let out a shaky breath, a slow, determined smile breaking through her frustration. Xavier thought he could control everything with contracts, strategies, and public appearances. He thought he could use a high-society gala to build a wall between them. But she knew the truth. Pushing two people who desperately wanted each other into the spotlight, forcing them to play at intimacy in front of the entire world, wasn't going to fix his problem.

It was only going to pour gasoline on the fire. And tomorrow night, she was going to make sure the whole thing burned down.