Chapter 6 _ The Kiss

**Fiona's POV**

"Dad, I cannot marry Josh. He is a womanizer, and I have already agreed to marry my boss. Please, let me handle this. I will explain to you and Mom when I get home to pack my bag," I said.

"Fiona," Dad said, his voice laced with disappointment. "Your mother and I brought you up in a Christian way. Is this how you choose to embarrass us—by secretly hooking up with your boss?"

"Dad, I am so sorry. I know you and Mom will object. If I had remembered you wanted me to meet Josh Edwards today, I would never have accepted my boss's proposal," I pleaded, my voice breaking as I spotted Rowan walking out of the jewelry store toward the car.

"I want to see your boss. He needs to come and ask for your hand in marriage properly. My daughter is not going to secretly marry any man. I will not support this. Get home quickly," Dad said, his voice thunderous before he hung up.

My father had never yelled at me like that before. I wiped away my tears just as Rowan slid into the driver's seat and looked at me.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice much softer than usual.

"Nothing. It's just my Dad. He says I need to come home immediately and bring you with me."

Rowan stared at my face for a long, silent moment. I kept my head down, avoiding his gaze. He exhaled slowly and said, "I wasn't expecting things to get this complicated so soon. I'm sorry, Fiona."

"What do you mean? Aren't you coming home with me to see my parents?" I asked, fearing he wanted to back out now.

"Of course I'm coming with you. I haven't forgotten. Here, I chose this golden ring for us. I wasn't sure if you would like it," Rowan said, unlocking a small red velvet box to unveil two golden rings. They sparkled brilliantly as a ray of sunlight caught the polished metal.

"It's so beautiful," I whispered, my cheeks flushing.

"I'm glad you like it," Rowan said, studying my face. "May I try it on to see if it fits, or if we need to exchange it?" He politely held out his hand for mine.

Nervously, I extended my hand. Rowan picked up one of the golden rings and slid it onto my left finger. It fit perfectly, as though it had been custom-made for me. My cheeks burned as I smiled, admiring the band.

"Thank you," I murmured, pulling my hand back.

"Aren't you going to put the other ring on my finger?" Rowan asked warmly.

"Oh, I forgot," I replied shyly, my long lashes fluttering as I picked up the second ring and slid it onto his finger. Touching my boss's hand sent a sudden wave of heat through me. I tried to act natural as I settled the golden band in place. He smiled, watching me work the ring over his long finger. It fit him just as perfectly.

"This is only a fake marriage, sir, you know. We shouldn't even be wearing rings," I said once I met his smiling eyes.

Rowan's face contorted into a scowl. His smirk returned. "If we don't wear rings, how are the likes of Josh and Albert supposed to believe we are legally married? You belong to me now, Fiona. For these two years, okay?"

His voice was firm, and I nodded. "Okay," I mumbled, though he continued to study me.

"Or do you still think you're single?" Rowan asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I looked away from his handsome face. "I don't think of our marriage as fake anymore," I admitted softly.

His eyes locked onto mine. "Do you have feelings for me, Fiona? Why do you find it so hard to look at me? That reminds me, you need to stop calling me Mr. Carson when we're alone. Call me by my name, Rowan, or call me your husband. Is that understood?" he demanded, sounding just like he did in the office.

"Um, I prefer to call you Mr. Carson. I can't call you my husband or use your first name," I replied shyly.

"Is that so? Why, if I may ask? Since you claim you don't have feelings for me, you shouldn't have any issue using my name," Rowan pressed, making me pout.

"Sir, I don't want to develop feelings for you. Calling you by your name is too intimate," I replied coldly, finally forcing myself to meet his eyes.

"What if I want to hear you say my name—and moan it?" Rowan demanded.

"What?" My jaw dropped, leaving me utterly speechless. "Sir, I can't call you that. I'm—"

Before I could finish, Rowan leaned across the console, grabbed me by the shoulders, and crashed his lips against mine. The kiss started tenderly before turning firm and demanding, stealing the breath right out of my lungs. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. I couldn't believe my boss had just kissed me.

"Now you can call me by my name, Rowan. Any more issues?" he asked, licking his lips as he finally released me.

My face burned hot. I couldn't believe he had just stolen my first kiss like that. *Did he know it was my first? How dare he? He didn't even ask for permission! He just grabbed me and claimed my lips.*

His taste lingered on my mouth, shattering my composure. *Was he planning this kiss the whole time?* My mind raced with a million thoughts as I questioned why he had really married me, fake or not.

"Are you angry with me because I kissed you?" Rowan asked, noticing my silence.

I refused to look at him, my mood souring under the weight of our bizarre arrangement.

"Fiona," Rowan said, using a tone far more intimate than anything I had ever heard at the office.

*Was I overthinking the way he spoke to me now?*

"Fiona," he called out again, and I finally glared at him.

"What is it, sir? Keep your eyes on the road," I snapped, noticing he had already started driving us toward my parents' house.

"I'm sorry if the kiss made you mad, but you need to realize we are married now. I can kiss you whenever I want," he stated firmly.

"You don't have the right to kiss me whenever you like—at least not without my permission! You don't love me, and kissing me like that isn't right. Besides... that was my first kiss, and you stole it," I accused him, genuinely annoyed by his lack of boundaries.

"Seriously? Do I need your permission to be kissed and touched by your own husband?" Rowan asked shamelessly.

I crossed my arms and turned my face toward the window. "Yes. You need my permission before you kiss or touch me so I can brace myself for it. We both know this isn't a real love match. We agreed to this so neither of us would catch feelings."

Rowan fell silent, navigating his black sports car down the familiar streets toward my father's house.

"We are here to get your bag, after which we're going to my house. Or do I still need your permission to pack your clothes?" he asked, his voice laced with mockery.

"No. You don't need my permission for that," I replied, still refusing to look at him.

"Fiona, drop the attitude. First of all, I warned you not to pout like that. It makes me want to kiss you. As my wife, I owe you no apology for kissing you. I have the right to kiss you whenever I want—and you have the right to kiss me back, if you want to. Understand?" Rowan demanded.

I remained stubbornly silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply.