Chapter 41 Submission? Roman had just excused himself from Alyssa when I intercepted, pasting on the fakest, tightest smile in my arsenal. My hand hooked into his arm like a grappling hook, and I hauled him toward our room before anyone could blink. I wasn’t about to take chances. Not tonight. Not with Dean’s smug little bomb ticking in my pocket. The door shut behind us with a soft click, but the sound felt like a gunshot in my chest. I spun on him, all claws and teeth. Ready to attack. “What the hell, Roman?” He blinked at me, actually blinking like he had no idea. “Okay… can I at least know what I did wrong before I get executed?” “Dean found your name on the VIP guest list for an escort service website.” That got a reaction. His eyebrows went up a millimeter. “How did he get his hands on that?” “I have no fucking idea. Do you think I keep a subscription to Creeps With Connections Monthly?”“But I already canceled my membership—” “Two days before we arrived here,” I cut in, “after you placed your last order. I'm aware.” The word order tasted like I’d chewed a battery. His forehead creased. “That’s… very strange. Nothing’s ever leaked from Velvet Desires before. It's the safest and most discreet. This is actually serious. I’ll contact the guys in charge, let them know someone’s been snooping—” He started for his laptop but stopped halfway, head snapping toward me like he’d just remembered he’d left the stove on. “Wait. What happens if Dean tells someone? Has he told your sister already?” “He won’t. And he hasn't.” I crossed to the bed, folded my arms, and sat like I owned the damn place. “I already handled that. Or at least… I think I handled that.” One corner of his mouth pulled upward. “Now I’m curious.” I met his gaze without flinching. “I told him it’s our little fun moment.” His eyebrows shot up, and for a beat we just stared at each other. My heart was pounding like it wanted out, but my face stayed as still as stone. “I didn't get that. Come again?” “I said, I told him I was aware of it… That we did it together. A sort of kink to heat things up.” Roman blinked at me. Once. Twice. Like he was trying to process whether he’d just misheard me or if I’d actually set our relationship on fire in the most creative way possible. “You… told Dean…” He dragged the words out slowly, as though each syllable was an armed grenade, “…that my presence on an escort site was—” “Our thing.” I crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against the headboard, looking far more relaxed than my heart rate allowed. “A little spice. You know, the adventurous kind. Not every rich guy with a weird kink finds a fiancée who’s game. You’re lucky.” I teased him, but instantly regretted it. The silence that followed could’ve been cut with the steak knife I’d been imagining burying in Dean’s smug face earlier. Roman tilted his head, staring at me like I’d just confessed to robbing a bank in broad daylight. “Savannah… why?” “Because,” I said sweetly, “the alternative was him running to Chloe with gossip so juicy she’d spread it around before dessert. I had to throw him something that would make him drop it. You should appreciate my quick thinking.” He managed to chuckle, “And he bought it?” “Hook, line and fucking sinker.” My lips curved, “He even appeared interested in it. Looked at me like I was the hottest thing on the planet.” Roman's face darkened instantly, hardening like stone, “What did he say to you?” I shifted a bit. “I guess he was aroused. Said it was sexy… That I was sexy. Even invited me out for a private hangout. Just us.” I recalled the conversation in my head. Roman closed the space between us with a certain urgency, stopping right in front of me. “And what did you say?” He asked in a low voice that sounded like the calm before the storm. “I declined. Told him my fiancé doesn't like me being close to other men.” A grin ghosted across his face. “Good girl.” Then—God help me—he patted my head. Like I was a well-behaved cat. He pulled his hand back almost instantly, dragging the other down his face with a humorless laugh. “You couldn’t just say it was a mistake? Or deny it outright?” “Oh, sure. And then he’d sit there, watching me squirm, and decide I was lying. Dean doesn’t need proof to spread a story— he just needs to sense you're lying.” Something hilarious and totally unrelated to this topic suddenly struck me. “He'd actually make a good bloodhound. Then he'd put his talents to good use.” Roman muttered something under his breath about killing him. I smiled faintly. “Get in line.” He dropped onto the chair opposite the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at me like I was a puzzle with a missing piece. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Sav. So now Dean thinks we… what? Hire escorts together? Engage in ménage à trois together? Orgies?” Hearing it from his mouth and coming to the conclusion that he wasn't denying it almost made feel… jealous? mildly disgusted?... Curious? Maybe even a mix of all three. I shrugged. “Only with the well-stacked ones. I told him that’s where the real fun is.” The look he gave me was half disbelief, half reluctant amusement. “You’re insane.” “And you’re welcome.” “But it's actually the High-end VIP Courtesans. Or the Vixens.” He said out of nowhere. His tone was shameless and maddeningly casual. I blinked, “What?” “The real fun isn't entirely about proportions. It's about talents, skills… and even areas of speciality— which sometimes differ. Most times, the most fun is with the PSE. Or even the GFE. Especially the former… Just saying.” He shrugged. My jaw dropped. Then I flung the pillow by my side at him, aiming for his head. “Roman!” I gasped, “You're really shameless, aren't you?” He caught the pillow easily, laughing. “I'm being honest here.” He shot me a side glance just like every other time he's teased me in the past. I would have snapped back if not for the sudden, unwelcome ache between my legs courtesy of the images my treacherous brain conjured. Fuck. Way to go, Savannah. Roman leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But then again… Savannah, you might have just made this worse. What if he tells someone that’s what we’re into? That kind of rumor doesn’t just vanish overnight.” I tilted my head. “So? We’re already an unlikely couple. Our reputation’s one bad whisper from scandal. Besides…” My lips curved. “Wouldn’t the nerdy Savannah Hart being into a dark kink make her more… human?” His gaze sharpened. “Keep talking.” “Maybe a little bandage. Role-play. Knife play. Whips and leathers. Maybe even...submission?” I bit back a smile. His voice dipped, rough and low. “Submission? You're playing with fire there.” “Fire’s the only thing keeping us warm in this arrangement,” I shot back. We stared at each other for a long, taut moment. The air between us was thick— with need, denial, accusation. With something that might have been grudging admiration, and with the faint electric hum that we seemed to create whenever we pushed each other to the edge. I cleared my throat, being the first to look away. I could still feel his stare boring into my skin. The thought of what must be going round his mind was making me hot all over. How did I survive five years not being attracted to this man? Perhaps I was blind. My brain worked hard on how to diffuse the tension since his eyes were still on me. I snapped a finger in front of him. “Earth to Roman.” He blinked, shaking his head from side to side. Finally, he leaned forward. “Alright. Back to the problem at hand. If Dean’s going to run his mouth, we need to make sure he only says what we want him to say.” My lips curved. “Now you’re speaking my language. What do you have in mind?”