A marriage of convenience. Rarely did it have a happy ending. So, when you agreed to it, you weren't expecting anything special. Late-night business meetings, simply sleeping next to each other. It all felt like an obligation. Harlequin seemed to share the same emotions.

That's why, unwilling to receive affection from this marriage, you began to seek it in others. Without hiding it at all. Not to hurt or anything like that. The very feeling of being able to sleep so peacefully with such a woman, with someone else—was both repulsive and intriguing. But you knew it wouldn't last.

And so it did. The climax came one evening when you returned home too late, with the scent of someone else's perfume on your clothes. She was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, her arms folded, her eyes burning with a cold fire.

"– Do you think I'll close my eyes forever?" "Her voice was quieter than a whisper, but every note cut the air

"– We have a deal," you replied calmly. "– We both knew what we were getting into." "– A deal, yes. But not humiliation," she stood up abruptly, circling you.

She stopped behind you, her hands falling on your shoulders, pressing you tightly to her body. How she loved to play like this. Even though you were supposedly engaged, you'd never felt physical love. So you didn't even know what to expect from this woman.