"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We have reached our cruising altitude and the seat belt sign has been turned off. Feel free to move about as you wish. Thank you."

"Mrs. Larsen?" One of the attendants called, snapping me out of my discordant thoughts. I turned my head away from the allure of the cloudy window and blinked at her. "Yes?"

"Your husband asks that you join him in the master suite."

My brows rose slightly. There was a master suite?

She smiled. "Please come with me, I'll show you to it."

"Er, alright." Tentatively, I got up from my position on the lounge chair and followed behind as she led me down the aisle to the rear end of the cabin.

Long before the seatbelt sign turned off, Tristan got out of his chair and urged me to come with him but I'd been too scared to take off mine. He might have been used to this but I still wasn't.

When we reached a closed door, she turned around to me. "This is it."

I smiled. "Thank you."

She nodded and walked away. I took a deep breath, followed by another, then I knocked.

The door opened almost immediately. Tristan was on his phone, looking like a hot male predator in the khaki slacks he was sporting. How convenient. We were in a jet filled with women and he'd decided to walk around stripped naked to the waist with his bulging biceps and tattooed abs out on display.

Why did I even care?

His eyes smiled at me as he beckoned with a hand gesture for me to come in. I walked in, shutting the door behind me. "Give me a minute." He mouthed before wandering into the bathroom whilst giving me a perfect view of his tight ass.

I turned away and took the time alone to glance around. This room was enormous and urban. There was an elegantly draped bed, a wide-screen television, two wardrobes on either side of the wall, a working cubicle with a steel desk and leather chair, and even a bathroom. How was all this even possible? It was like a home away from home here and it gave off an ambient modern-penthouse atmosphere with the soft hues of dark blue and grey color splash.

The bed in particular was king-sized, enough to fit both of us, except I had no intention of sharing it with him. I was fine sleeping in the lounge.

The bathroom door opened and Tristan strolled back into the room. He looked at me, a hint of a smile trifling with his lips. "It's going to be a long flight. You should change up and relax, those heels must be uncomfortable."

I looked down at the red heels I'd worn to match my pearl-colored halter gown and then looked back up and said blankly. "How many more times do you need to hear me say I have nothing to wear?"

"I know you don't, love, which is why—" He walked to one of the wardrobes and pulled the door open to reveal a wide range of dark dress shirts with a splash of grey and white here and there. "—I'm offering you mine."

He wanted me to wear his clothes? Why did the thought of it thrill me way more than it should've? Ew, no. I shook the feeling off immediately and folded my arm across my chest. "I am not wearing your shirt."

He leaned against the door. "It's the only option you've got, princess, except..." The corner of his lips tilted up. "...You want to stay naked, which I don't mind at all, in fact, I think you should."

Tingles rushed down my spine in hurried successions. This man was hopeless with his honesty and I was just as hopeless for being completely overwhelmed by it. Gosh. Ignoring him, I simply stepped forward and searched through the colors and textures of dress shirts. They looked so expensive. They probably were. How could anyone need this many clothes in a jet?

"I'll take this," I said as I snatched a white cotton dress shirt and turned to sashay my way to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, when I walked out of the chrome bathroom in his big shirt that stopped just below my ass, I found Tristan sitting in his work cubicle, brooding over something on his laptop. This man was really tireless. His eyes lifted and caught mine. They smoldered. "Woah." He spun his chair around, his gaze raking over my body leisurely. Head to toe. He licked his lips. "Never thought my shirt would look good on anyone but me."

I crinkled my nose, walking past him to sit on the edge of the bed. "Shut up." I fished for the TV remote and switched it on.

Tristan chuckled softly behind me. "Are you hungry?"

I shrugged, scrolling through channels for something worthwhile. "I could use a bite."

He got up, heading for the door. "I'll speak to Joslyn and..."

Joslyn? I turned my neck so fast it was a wonder it didn't snap. The teenage mutate man-eating machine? Hell no. Without realizing what I was doing, I got up and snapped. "You can't!"

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes twinkling with surprise when he turned to me. "Why not?"

Well, shit. What the hell was I doing? I cleared my throat, thinking fast for a good response. "You're not stepping out like this, are you?"

He looked down at himself and looked back up at me with furrowed brows. "Like what?"

I nodded my head toward his bare chest. "Like that?"

He quirked a brow. "What's wrong with how I look?"

It was hard to tell if he was this oblivious or deliberately being obtuse. Both cases were pretty annoying and I didn't know who I was more annoyed at —him or myself. Either way, I spat. "What's wrong is that you're half naked."

He made a face that looked both amused and confused. "Baby I'm covered in the right places."

God, I mentally pulled on my hair. How could I say this in a way that wouldn't make it seem I cared? I closed my eyes and growled in frustration. Know what, to hell with it. Pssh, I didn't even care. Nope. I didn't, he could walk around with his balls handing I didn't care. "Never mind, just go, I don't care," I ground out and turned, folding my arms over my chest. He probably didn't care what I thought. Any moment now he was going to walk out that door and meet Jos—warm arms snaked around my waist, stealing a sharp gasp from my lips.

"Tristan, are you—" he yanked me to his chest, his arms tightening around me.

"Is my wife perhaps...jealous?" He droned into my ear in a decadent voice that turned my limbs to liquid. His wife? The muscles in my stomach were clenching tight at that endowment.

"Why the hell would I be jealous? And I am not your wife, and let me go!" I snapped, struggling to break free but he dared to chuckle at me, this man dared to laugh and it sounded so fucking hot that at this point I was sure I was heading straight to hell.

"No I am not letting you go, yes, you are my wife, and if you wanted me to put a shirt on, all you had to do was say it."

"Well bite me." I sassed as I finally managed to loosen myself from him but within the blink of an eye, I was back in his embrace and he was cupping my cheeks, leaving me with no other choice than to stare into those livid eyes. "You don't have anything to worry about princess," he soothed, caressing my cheeks with his thumb. "This body is all yours, any time of the day."

My heart fluttered but I jutted my chin out stubbornly and spoke dryly. "And you're telling me this because..."

He pushed my hair out of my face, his lips twisting into a smile. "Because I have a jealous wife who needs to be reassured that she owns my body as well as my heart."

There it was. Shivers, flutters, everything, shooting left and right. My cheeks flared and my heart stuttered, this man was messing with my emotions and tossing them into a chaotic storm.

"And Just so you're not concerned anymore, I'll toss on a shirt." With that, he released me and walked over to his other drawer, and I took in a deep breath to calm my beating heart as I watched him pull it open, withdraw a black T-shirt, and toss it over his head.

"Am I okay now, princess?" He asked me once the shirt was down and covering his body.

I rolled my eyes, saying nothing.

He laughed at my silence and walked to the door. When it shut behind him, I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding. He was so hard to stay mad at, very hard. God help me, I didn't know how I was going to survive the next twelve hours with him.

***

Apparently, the G6 had a dining area large enough to house a family of five. At this point, this jet was Just bizarre, but definitely not as bizarre as it was being fed fettuccine Alfredo by my fake husband.

He rolled the spaghetti around his fork, dipped it into tomato cream sauce, and brought it closer to my lips. "Here, try this one."

God this man was weird and I was even weirder for opening my mouth to accept his fork. In my defense, I was already weary to the bone and didn't have it in me to argue with him on this. If there was anything I had learnt it was that he always got his way. I mean look at me, a few days ago I hated him and swore never to have anything to do with him, but now I was on a private jet, wearing his shirt and getting fed forkfuls like an invalid by him.

His eyes gleamed when he asked. "How does it taste?"

"Bland," I uttered dryly, chomping down on it. It was tasteless, just like the rest five spoons he'd fed me, and I didn't know why. Maybe it was my taste buds, or maybe I just didn't have an appetite. I didn't feel well. I hadn't been able to sleep properly for days now and it felt as though it was all starting to weigh down on me. A little stream of red sauce dripped down my lips. Before I could wipe it off, Tristan leaned forward and swiped with his thumb.

"Messy girl." He scolded, dipping his thumb into his mouth, and with his eyes fiercely on mine, he sucked. Jesus Christ. My thighs clenched together under the table. Was this how he was going to continue to treat me? Like a child? I took a breath to steady my nerves. Why did it feel so hot being treated like one?

The knowing smile forming on his lips told me he knew exactly what he was doing. "Do you want more?" He asked, already twirling the pasta into his fork but I rejected it quickly with an abrupt shake of my head. He was still in charge, he knew this. I didn't need him to be. I picked up my glass and guzzled down my wine in one go, then I shoved my chair out from under me and stood to leave.

"Where are you going?" Tristan asked, dropping his fork and wiping the side of his mouth with his napkin.

I picked up my phone. "The lounge,"

"But we haven't had dessert yet." He protested, holding my gaze.

"I'll have to pass. I need to rest." My stomach was unsettled and the tension in my shoulder had gotten worse. I needed to relax.

His brows furrowed. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

I sighed heavily. "I'm tired," I admitted. "Sore."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

I shook my head. "No, I just need to sleep it out."

He got up, abruptly, taking me by surprise. "Come with me to the bedroom."

I blinked, stepping back. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"Because I want to massage your sore spots." He urged, stepping in front of me. "And I know it's merely enough but I want to make you feel better in any way I can so don't say no to me."

My heart skipped a beat but I managed to keep my composure and stare at him with hard eyes. "You don't need to, you're not obligated to." Plus I was not going to let him touch me, I'd watched enough x X-rated films to know it never ended with just a massage, it was much more.

His sigh was soft and full of exasperation. "Baby, listen, you may not be wearing my ring anymore and our contract may be expiring in the next three days but I am still your husband and you are still my responsibility."

Irritated by how good he made that sound, I glowered at him. "Look, I am not your responsibility. Everything you are doing right now, I never asked for you to do it, so stop if you want." I wasn't going to wait for him to give a reply, I was just going to walk past him and head to the lounge, but I didn't make it three steps forward before he caught me by my elbow and whirled me around.

"Tristan, are you—" he bent low and scooped me into his arms, emptying my lungs as he did. I exclaimed. "Tristan!" but he ignored me and proceeded to carry me in his arms down the aisle, and the attendants who stood by all went about their businesses like they couldn't see me visibly struggling to free myself.

Inside the suite, he carried me over to the bed and set me on my feet in front of it. "You asshole!" I immediately snapped, my cheeks flaming with heat. I slapped him on his chest. "I can walk! I am not crippled! Stop treating me like I am a freaking child, and, I swear to God, the next time you touch me like this, I'll—" he pulled me against his chest and kissed me.

My eyes grew wide with shock and my hands pressed flat against his chest as I immediately tried to dislodge myself but he wouldn't let me go. He was holding me tight against him with uncompromising strength, and with his lips on mine, he drained me, leaving me so weak, that my hands fell from his chest and hung loosely by my sides.

"I know I haven't been the best man to you." He said breathlessly when he finally broke away. "But you can't toss away the fact that I am trying to be."

I parted my lips to speak but he was staring at me with the scorching intensity of a hundred suns, melting my words in my throat before they could come to life.

"Whether you like it or not it is my responsibility to take care of you and I will so sit your fine ass on that bed and wait like a good girl while, I, your husband, prepare to give you the princess treatment you deserve." With that, he pulled away from me and stalked towards the bathroom and I stood there, lips tingling, heart pounding, wondering how screwed I really was.