wanted by the CEO

Chapter 2- Terms and Conditions

The morning after her meeting with Adrian, Naomi woke to the familiar hum of the city filtered through her apartment window. She reached for her mug, hands still trembling from last night’s conversation. One month. Pretending to be Adrian’s fiancée for a corporate merger. The words echoed in her head, taunting and thrilling all at once.

She hated that it thrilled her.

Her phone buzzed. Adrian. Again. She swallowed a sigh and answered, bracing herself for orders or logistics.

“Good morning,” he said smoothly, calm and deliberate as always.

“Morning,” she replied, voice clipped. She refused to let herself sound flustered.

“I assume you’ve thought about our arrangement?” His tone was measured, but there was an edge of expectation—of something more beneath the professional veneer.

“I have,” she said, keeping it tight. “And yes. I’ll do it. But we need rules.”

“Rules,” he echoed, almost teasingly. “I like that.”

They met later that afternoon in a quiet, sunlit café tucked into a side street. Naomi arrived first, scanning the empty tables, the scent of coffee and pastries grounding her in the present. She didn’t have to wait long before Adrian appeared, impeccably dressed, hair still damp from a late-morning shower, eyes scanning for her immediately.

He smiled—not charming, not casual, but recognizing. The smile that remembered every late night, every unspoken word, every almost-kiss.

“Naomi,” he said, sliding into the booth across from her. “I trust you understand the stakes.”

“I do,” she replied, meeting his gaze. She could feel the old pull, the familiar magnetic tension, and she clenched her fists to keep her composure. “I also understand boundaries.”

Adrian’s lips curved, slow and deliberate. “Boundaries,” he murmured. “Yes. I think we both have to be very clear on what we will and will not do.”

“Exactly.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a notebook. “Rule one: strictly professional in public. Rule two: no emotional entanglements. Rule three: I get full creative control over my gallery-related appearances, and I have veto power if anything makes me uncomfortable.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands folded. His gaze followed hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “Rule four,” he said softly, “no pretending when we’re alone. That’s going to be… difficult, but necessary.”

Naomi’s pulse quickened. She felt the undercurrent in his voice, the almost-silent admission of desire, restrained but palpable. “Agreed,” she said, trying to sound firm while feeling every inch of proximity between them.

“Rule five,” Adrian continued, “if either of us slips… or falters… we confess immediately. No games.”

Her lips twitched, almost smiling despite herself. The rules felt like a map, but also a chain—a delicious, frustrating chain she didn’t entirely want to break. “Deal,” she said, and extended her hand.

He took it. The contact was brief, almost casual, but the electricity that surged through her at that touch nearly made her gasp. She pulled back quickly, embarrassed by the effect he had on her.

Adrian’s eyes followed her, gold and sharp. “One month,” he murmured, almost to himself. “One month, Naomi. And then…” His voice trailed, unspoken implications hanging in the air between them.

Naomi shook her head, smiling tightly. “Then, we part ways. That’s the deal.”

“Part ways,” he echoed, though the heat in his gaze contradicted his words.

For the first time since last night, Naomi felt the real weight of the arrangement. One month. One month of close encounters, fake smiles, staged affection. One month of feeling the pull she had spent years trying to ignore. And one month of knowing Adrian would be every bit as infuriating—and tempting—as he had been in college.

The conversation turned to logistics, schedules, and press events, but Naomi barely heard him. Her mind kept drifting to the brush of his hand on hers, the way he leaned just slightly closer across the table, the low, smooth timbre of his voice that sent shivers down her spine. She hated how much she noticed.

By the time they left the café, the sun was low, painting the streets gold and crimson. They walked in silence for a block, side by side, close enough that their arms almost brushed. Naomi forced herself to keep her gaze forward, pretending the magnetic tension between them wasn’t suffocating.

At the corner, she stopped. “We’ll start tomorrow,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “First photoshoot. Be on time.”

Adrian tilted his head, eyes glinting. “I’ll be there. You’ll see… it won’t be easy.”

Naomi gave him a tight nod, forcing herself to look away first. Her chest was alive with anticipation, her skin humming with remembered touches, her mind spinning with possibilities. One month. One month of rules, boundaries, and pretending.

And yet… she already knew pretending was going to be the hardest part.