BETROTHED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER 8

Valerie's POV

Determined to get on his nerves tonight, I lay sprawled on the bed fully clothed. The moment the shower goes off, I close my eyes to pretend that I am asleep.

I can't let him sleep with me on the same bed. We can't share the same bed.

I love my privacy and space. I never had any reason to share a bed with anyone, except Fred and I am not ready to get to that stage with Ryan.

I know we are supposed to sign the contract tonight but I am seriously not going to give him the chance to sweet-talk me into letting him sleep here tonight.

The bathroom door opens and I imagine him coming out of the bathroom with a bare chest trailing with water from his wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist.

I imagine the glare he will throw my way when he notices I'm already asleep on the bed, sprawled with my legs apart to prevent him from getting into bed with me.

Today is our first night as a couple and I want us to stick to the rules of the contract to ease the whole period we will be together. If I allow him to share a bed with me now, he may consider that as a kind gesture or continue to expect much from me someday when we are in a situation where we have to share a bed.

Besides, I can sleepwalk sometimes and I really do not want him to see that side of me.

Silence ensues, except for the continued hard beating of my heart.

Why isn't he saying anything yet? Is he still in the bathroom? Why isn't he coming to throw me off the bed?

I am ready to exert the same type of energy. If he wants a fight tonight, I am in for it. I won't allow him to sleep here and that's final.

Deliberately, I open my eyes slowly and it comes in contact with a close-range pair of blue eyes.

Shit! I sit up startled.

It turns out to be Ryan. Why does he have his eyes a few inches away from mine? Was he trying to see if I was really sleeping or not?

"So you weren't sleeping? I guessed so", he mutters, as if hearing my thoughts.

"I was asleep", I defend myself. "I caught wind of your…" I trail off, not knowing what excuse to give him. 

Should I tell him I caught wind of his cologne? 

No, he isn't wearing any clothes.

A wind of his breath?

That is too close and stupid.

He leans upright and turns his back on me as he begins to dry his body. He isn't wearing a towel like I thought he would. He is wearing shorts.