Louis POV
The morning sunlight hit the study just right, slanting across the papers I'd left scattered last night. I sat in my chair, coffee cooling beside me, and went over the conversation again.
She had laid down her terms with that stubborn, cautious face of hers, and I had mine. And then… that moment. When I let it slip that we might have to consummate the contract. I hadn't really meant it. Not yet actually.
But seeing her face, sitting there that close, with the faint catch in her breath when the words fell… it had done something. My senses had tilted. My usual control wavered just enough to make me notice things I shouldn't.
Her face. The way she speaks, the slight curl of her lip when she's annoyed. The way her eyes dart just so when she's thinking. Tiny details, almost meaningless on their own, but put together, they set me off. Every time I realize it, I tell myself it's nothing. That it's just… attention to detail.
But it's more than that. And I can feel myself becoming aware of her in ways I hadn't before. When she looked at me, at my face, hoping to catch a glimpse of something… anything. An inkling of suspicion, doubt. I should be offended. But her gaze just drags heat across my skin.
I leaned back, letting the thought linger. Soon enough, I'd be seeing her in my home. Close, unguarded, stripped of the walls she puts up at work, at the office, in public. Just… her. And I found myself looking forward to it more than I probably should.
The sight would be something to behold. That much I was certain of. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized, I wanted to see it all. Every expression, every hesitation, every small detail that made her… Claire Montgomery.
Soon to be, Claire Smith. Albeit for a month.
I shook my head slightly, forcing focus back to the papers in front of me. Business first. Always business.
But even as I sifted through contracts and clauses, a part of me kept drifting back to her. To that look she'd given me. To the faint, unintentional pull that seemed to exist between us, whether she realized it or not.
I should continue this at work. She'd be heading to work soon enough. It's almost seven.
My phone rang suddenly, breaking my train of thoughts.
I glanced at the screen and didn't even need to see the name.
"Louis Smith," I answered, keeping my voice calm, measured.
"Good morning, sir," Henry, my lawyer's voice was crisp. "We've finalized the draft. The marriage contract… Everything is in order. Documents are ready for your signature."
I closed my eyes briefly, letting the words sink in. So it was done. Legally, everything was airtight. By tomorrow, I could justify why I needed to see her.
"Excellent," I said smoothly. "Send it over. I'll review and sign today."
The call ended, and I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. Her presence in my home was no longer hypothetical. Soon, she would be under my roof. The thought made my pulse tick just slightly faster—controlled, but present.
I didn't need to tell anyone why I wanted her there. Not yet. All that mattered was that she would come, and I would finally see her face stripped of work armor, stripped of pretense. The little details I'd noticed before, how she bites her lip, how her eyes widen when caught off guard, all would all be on display.
I shook my head, forcing focus. Business first. Always business.
And yet… the thought of her in my home, completely unaware of how aware I had become of her, made it impossible to concentrate entirely on the contract papers in front of me.
When I arrive at work, I'm suddenly in haste. An unfamiliar rush settles in my chest as I move through the lobby, my steps quicker than usual. I tell myself it's just efficiency. Necessity.
I want to see her.
I need to tell her about the contract, the finalized version and have her sign it as soon as possible. Everything has to move quickly now. Precise. Clean. Our under-the-radar wedding would have to follow almost immediately.
That is… after we visit my grandparents.
The thought tightens my jaw. Once they see her, once the illusion is complete, the calls will stop. The fake check-ups. The constant probing disguised as concern. They'll finally give me room to breathe.
I reach my office and pause briefly before stepping inside, straightening my cuffs, schooling my expression back into place. This is still business. At least, that's what I tell myself.
But beneath it all, the truth sits quietly.
I'm not rushing because of the contract.
I'm rushing because I want to see Claire's face when I tell her what comes next.
And I already know whatever expression she gives me, I won't be able to look away.
Soon, she would be moving into my home. I'm getting quite excited at the thought of that.
"Good morning, sir."
Her voice cuts through my thoughts.
I look up just as Claire approaches, tablet hugged to her chest, posture polite, professional. She looks absolutely stunning in her work outfit.
She is dressed in a white dress shirt, tucked at the sides into her dress pants that hug every curve. Her high heels clacking on the floor. She looks extra beautiful this morning, like she has gone a bit extra with her make up. Still stunning.
Composed. If only she knew how thoroughly she's undone that composure in my head already.
"Good morning, Claire," I reply evenly, rising to my feet. My gaze flickers to her face.
"Can you come into my office for a moment?" I add. "We need to talk."
Her brows knit just slightly before she nods. "Of course."
As she follows me inside, I remind myself, this is necessary. The contract. The signatures. The wedding arrangements that must follow quickly and quietly. My grandparents.
All reasonable justifications.
Still, as I close the door behind us and turn to face her, I'm left wondering where the lines to this lie.
"You can call me Louis when we're alone," I say, keeping my tone even. "It'll feel more natural when we have to go to my parents."
She hesitates, just for a second. I caught it. I always do.
"Alright… Louis," she says, testing the name like it doesn't quite belong to me yet.
That's not the full reason.
I know it. And even as I stand there, composed, hands firmly pricked into my pockets, I won't admit it out loud.
There's something about the way she says my name. Especially when she's upset. Sharp around the edges.
The way she sounds when she's angry, clipped, deliberate, it just does things to me. I caution myself to not dwell too much on it.
I clear my throat, rounding her to get to my desk reminding myself why she's here. The contract. The signatures, the quiet wedding that has to happen quickly.
Still, as I meet her eyes again, I make a mental note and I don't bother denying.
I want to hear her say my name like that again.
And soon enough, living under the same roof, I will.
'My wife', it has a ring to it and I don't bother hiding my smile.
Louis POV
The morning sunlight hit the study just right, slanting across the papers I'd left scattered last night. I sat in my chair, coffee cooling beside me, and went over the conversation again.
She had laid down her terms with that stubborn, cautious face of hers, and I had mine. And then… that moment. When I let it slip that we might have to consummate the contract. I hadn't really meant it. Not yet actually.
But seeing her face, sitting there that close, with the faint catch in her breath when the words fell… it had done something. My senses had tilted. My usual control wavered just enough to make me notice things I shouldn't.
Her face. The way she speaks, the slight curl of her lip when she's annoyed. The way her eyes dart just so when she's thinking. Tiny details, almost meaningless on their own, but put together, they set me off. Every time I realize it, I tell myself it's nothing. That it's just… attention to detail.
But it's more than that. And I can feel myself becoming aware of her in ways I hadn't before. When she looked at me, at my face, hoping to catch a glimpse of something… anything. An inkling of suspicion, doubt. I should be offended. But her gaze just drags heat across my skin.
I leaned back, letting the thought linger. Soon enough, I'd be seeing her in my home. Close, unguarded, stripped of the walls she puts up at work, at the office, in public. Just… her. And I found myself looking forward to it more than I probably should.
The sight would be something to behold. That much I was certain of. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized, I wanted to see it all. Every expression, every hesitation, every small detail that made her… Claire Montgomery.
Soon to be, Claire Smith. Albeit for a month.
I shook my head slightly, forcing focus back to the papers in front of me. Business first. Always business.
But even as I sifted through contracts and clauses, a part of me kept drifting back to her. To that look she'd given me. To the faint, unintentional pull that seemed to exist between us, whether she realized it or not.
I should continue this at work. She'd be heading to work soon enough. It's almost seven.
My phone rang suddenly, breaking my train of thoughts.
I glanced at the screen and didn't even need to see the name.
"Louis Smith," I answered, keeping my voice calm, measured.
"Good morning, sir," Henry, my lawyer's voice was crisp. "We've finalized the draft. The marriage contract… Everything is in order. Documents are ready for your signature."
I closed my eyes briefly, letting the words sink in. So it was done. Legally, everything was airtight. By tomorrow, I could justify why I needed to see her.
"Excellent," I said smoothly. "Send it over. I'll review and sign today."
The call ended, and I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. Her presence in my home was no longer hypothetical. Soon, she would be under my roof. The thought made my pulse tick just slightly faster—controlled, but present.
I didn't need to tell anyone why I wanted her there. Not yet. All that mattered was that she would come, and I would finally see her face stripped of work armor, stripped of pretense. The little details I'd noticed before, how she bites her lip, how her eyes widen when caught off guard, all would all be on display.
I shook my head, forcing focus. Business first. Always business.
And yet… the thought of her in my home, completely unaware of how aware I had become of her, made it impossible to concentrate entirely on the contract papers in front of me.
When I arrive at work, I'm suddenly in haste. An unfamiliar rush settles in my chest as I move through the lobby, my steps quicker than usual. I tell myself it's just efficiency. Necessity.
I want to see her.
I need to tell her about the contract, the finalized version and have her sign it as soon as possible. Everything has to move quickly now. Precise. Clean. Our under-the-radar wedding would have to follow almost immediately.
That is… after we visit my grandparents.
The thought tightens my jaw. Once they see her, once the illusion is complete, the calls will stop. The fake check-ups. The constant probing disguised as concern. They'll finally give me room to breathe.
I reach my office and pause briefly before stepping inside, straightening my cuffs, schooling my expression back into place. This is still business. At least, that's what I tell myself.
But beneath it all, the truth sits quietly.
I'm not rushing because of the contract.
I'm rushing because I want to see Claire's face when I tell her what comes next.
And I already know whatever expression she gives me, I won't be able to look away.
Soon, she would be moving into my home. I'm getting quite excited at the thought of that.
"Good morning, sir."
Her voice cuts through my thoughts.
I look up just as Claire approaches, tablet hugged to her chest, posture polite, professional. She looks absolutely stunning in her work outfit.
She is dressed in a white dress shirt, tucked at the sides into her dress pants that hug every curve. Her high heels clacking on the floor. She looks extra beautiful this morning, like she has gone a bit extra with her make up. Still stunning.
Composed. If only she knew how thoroughly she's undone that composure in my head already.
"Good morning, Claire," I reply evenly, rising to my feet. My gaze flickers to her face.
"Can you come into my office for a moment?" I add. "We need to talk."
Her brows knit just slightly before she nods. "Of course."
As she follows me inside, I remind myself, this is necessary. The contract. The signatures. The wedding arrangements that must follow quickly and quietly. My grandparents.
All reasonable justifications.
Still, as I close the door behind us and turn to face her, I'm left wondering where the lines to this lie.
"You can call me Louis when we're alone," I say, keeping my tone even. "It'll feel more natural when we have to go to my parents."
She hesitates, just for a second. I caught it. I always do.
"Alright… Louis," she says, testing the name like it doesn't quite belong to me yet.
That's not the full reason.
I know it. And even as I stand there, composed, hands firmly pricked into my pockets, I won't admit it out loud.
There's something about the way she says my name. Especially when she's upset. Sharp around the edges.
The way she sounds when she's angry, clipped, deliberate, it just does things to me. I caution myself to not dwell too much on it.
I clear my throat, rounding her to get to my desk reminding myself why she's here. The contract. The signatures, the quiet wedding that has to happen quickly.
Still, as I meet her eyes again, I make a mental note and I don't bother denying.
I want to hear her say my name like that again.
And soon enough, living under the same roof, I will.
'My wife', it has a ring to it and I don't bother hiding my smile.