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Here's Chapter 5 of Married to My Billionaire Enemy — the moment Ara starts to unravel, and Damon knows exactly what he's doing…
Chapter 5: Don't Tempt Me
The ride back to Damon's penthouse was wrapped in silence, but the kind that buzzed. Like a charged wire between them, sparking every time their knees accidentally touched in the back seat of the blacked-out Rolls-Royce.
Arabella kept her eyes on the window, watching the city blur into lights and shadows. But she could feel him watching her.
"You surprised me tonight," he said at last.
She crossed her legs slowly. "By not stabbing your ex with a stiletto?"
He chuckled. "By walking into a room full of wolves and owning it."
His voice was low, rich—dangerously smooth. She hated how warm it made her feel.
"You think I need your approval?"
"I think…" His voice dropped even lower. "You like knowing you impressed me."
She turned to him sharply, but he was already leaning closer, elbow draped along the seat, his other hand toying with the edge of her red dress where it bared her thigh.
"Stop that," she murmured, her voice unsteady.
"Stop what?" he said innocently, eyes glittering. "I'm not touching you. Yet."
Her breath caught.
The air grew heavier as his fingers finally brushed her skin—barely—but it was enough. Her pulse spiked. Her thighs tensed.
He leaned in, his mouth inches from hers. "Tell me to stop, Arabella."
She should have. She wanted to.
But she couldn't.
So she whispered, "Don't tempt me, Damon."
His gaze darkened. "Why not?"
"Because I might let you."
The moment cracked like lightning.
He closed the distance, lips brushing hers—not a kiss. A test. His hand slid to her waist, dragging her closer, and when their mouths finally met, it was soft at first.
Too soft.
Then—fire.
His lips claimed hers, demanding, slow and hot. One of her hands gripped his shirt. The other tangled in his hair. Her mind screamed at her to stop, but her body didn't listen. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss until they were no longer pretending.
She wanted him.
She craved him.
His hand slid up her bare thigh, tracing the curve of her hip.
And then—he pulled back.
Hard.
Breathing heavy, eyes unreadable, Damon straightened his jacket and looked away. "This was a mistake."
Ara blinked, chest rising and falling fast. "You kissed me."
"You let me."
"And then you stopped—"
"Because I don't blur lines, Arabella," he snapped. "This is a business arrangement. We don't mix emotions with contracts."
Emotion? She wanted to laugh. That wasn't emotion. That was heat and hunger.
But it still stung.
"So that's it?" she asked. "You turn me on and then walk away like nothing happened?"
He turned to her, eyes colder now. "You're not ready for what happens if I don't walk away."
The car rolled to a stop in front of the penthouse.
Damon got out without another word.
Ara sat there, breathless and burning.
For the first time, she realized something terrifying:
This contract marriage might destroy her.
Not because she hated him…
But because she didn't anymore.