The Billionaire's Forced Alliance

Chapter Eleven

Sarah felt his hand holding hers tightly as he guided her to the car rental store. Her insides were heating up, tied in messy knots. A feeling of restlessness crowded her mind, as she felt extremely uncomfortable, feeling his skin touch against hers in a carelessly casual manner.

She was feeling things, things she shouldn't have felt. Her father had prohibited her to get close to Ben, because then he would get to know that she wasn't an asexual. She had to be very careful. She was an ordinary woman, with ordinary desires every other person had, and his touch was unknowingly igniting many such desires into fire.

"Ben, I'm not feeling so well," she breathed, genuinely jet-lagged. Well, it wasn't her first time flying but only the third time after a huge gap of ten years, hence, she was still getting used to the fatigue.

She had been on flights as a child when she used to visit her grandparents in India. The first time she had taken a flight alone, as an adult, was when she came to Texas three months ago on her own, and then the second time was when her father's men dragged her back to New York, forcefully. She had expected Ben to ignore her statement, but surprisingly, he turned around, his brows twerking up. "What's wrong? Are you alright? Do you have fever?"

His palm came up and covered her forehead, taking her temperature. "You temperature is normal. What happened?"

She didn't know what to say. She had just told him casually that she wasn't feeling nice, and he had instantly become so worried. God, he was such a weird personality. He was the one who sucked in conversing with her, he was the one who had been painfully quiet throughout the flight, yet, she noticed that he was a very caring person. No matter how bad he was at communication, he cared about others; something her father never did.

"I'm--I'm jet lagged. I feel...so tired." She stumbled towards him, the fatigue taking over her like a soft blanket of wool. She crashed into him, her head on his chest. "God, I'm--I'm so sorry."

She felt him shiver and then his hands encircled her tiny waist. "It's alright, come on," He picked her up in his arms, her small frame fitting nicely in his body as he carried her to the shop.

She was conscious of her surroundings, she felt herself floating in air, yet the feeling of a pair of strong arms around her didn't let her fall asleep. She slowly opened her eyes, seeing him, his face just a few inches above her head. She saw him, god, he was looking so nice. His stubble was shaved clean, making him look younger than he actually was, his rim-less glasses looked perfect on him, complementing his big and expressive eyes.

As she saw him more closely, without his knowledge, she noticed his Adam's apple, bobbing in and out as he kept gulping down his saliva. Was he nervous? The destination was finally reached, she thanked the heavens. Everyone around had seen her in his arms, and she was already a lot embarrassed than she should've been, because she knew this wasn't a proper marriage.

"Sarah, hey, are you fine?" He asked, before slowly putting her down.

Her feet touched the ground as she took the support of his arms to stable herself. "Oh, thank you." She looked at him, her face crouching in a small smile. He was a good man, and somewhere, agreeing to get the papers delivered to her father seemed like a hateful act. She felt so bad. He didn't know her, she didn't know him. He was a stranger to her, yet being a righteous woman, she hated betraying someone.

"Don't mention it, can you walk? Or should I--"

"No, no, I can walk now." She immediately dodged the prospective of him carrying her again.

She followed him into the shop, seeing him go to the owner and talking with him. She stood at a distance, watching him. He scratched his ear a lot when he communicated, which meant that he was probably bored or restless, according to the body language theory. She moved aside her scrutinizing gaze and stared around, seeing different kinds of cars all around; some were stylish bikes, and others were different models of sports cars, some SUVs, some were luxurious sedans and some were vintage. The shop smelled of oil, paint and petrol, and her nose burnt with the pungent smoky aroma.