Chapter 4: AIDAN'S TEMPER ARTEMIS POV

It seemed, suddenly, that a week or two passed in a mist of duties and lies. Playing Hera was a lot more difficult than I'd thought, and Aidan's crankiness wasn't helping one bit. We even had to stage photos, pretending for the press that we were madly in love.

I hadn't bargained for any of this paparazzi, the scrutiny, the eternal click-click-clicking of cameras that gave me the creeps. Aidan had assured me it would eventually die down, but I was anything but convinced. I was a small-town girl; I wasn't built for this world of flashing lights and fake smiles.

The worst part, though, was sharing a bed with Aidan. I'd had my room to start, but his dad insisted on the arrangement since it would make the charade all the more believable.

I lay now, awake in the dark, and listened to the soft rhythm of Aidan's breathing. He had looked different while sleeping-softer, almost human. The constant tension that always twisted his features had dissipated, leaving him to look… peaceful. His hair, so dark it made me think of midnight skies, framed his face like ink spilled on a canvas.

Before I knew it, my hand reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.

"You should have added 'hair touching' to the agreement," he whispered low, the hint of a smile lacing his tone.

I yelped and snatched my hand back, rolling onto my side to face away from him. My heart was racing. He'd caught me. Oh God, had he also noticed I'd been watching him for the last five minutes?

"Cold feet?" He teased, his voice as light as a feather yet sharp enough to get on my nerves.

I turned back to him, frowning. "There was a bug in your hair."

One dark brow arched, his green eyes—those piercing, swirling green eyes—locking onto mine. "A bug? In my house?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. It was a fly.”

A quiver of his lips led into a slight smirk as he rolled onto his back, folding his hands behind his head. "What do you care, anyway?"

I didn't answer. He was right, did I care? I slid out of bed, clutching my robe around me for some semblance of armor. Sharing a bed with him was unnerving enough without lingering.

As I moved to the bathroom, Aidan's voice stopped me. "We're attending a conference today. My father wants you there."

I spun, crossing my arms over my chest. "Wow, Daddy's boy doing as he's told again. Does he pick out your suits, too?”

The skin pulled taut over his clenched jaw and a perilous flicker crossed over his eyes. "Watch it, Artemis."

“Or what?" I fired back, the sarcasm flowing from my voice like a river. "You'll whine about it? You boss me around all day, can't even stand up against your father. Pathetic.”

I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth.

In two strides, Aidan was on me, slamming me against the nearest wall. My breath caught as his hands pinned my wrists behind my back, his body against mine.

"Don't ever call me a coward," he growled, his voice low and furious.

I twisted against his hold, but he didn't move an inch. I could feel every inch of his body against mine, so overwhelming was his presence in my growing infuriation.

"You're hurting me," I protested, though my voice was more shaky than I had meant it to sound.

“I don't care," he whispered into my ear, his hot breath against my skin. "I could end this right now-kill you and tell my father you ran off. No one would question me.”

I froze. Did he mean that? So calm, so cool in his tone, that way, I couldn't discern.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

He released me suddenly, stepping back as if nothing had happened.

The moment his hands left me, I spun around and slapped him. Hard. The sound echoed in the quiet room.

Aidan's head whipped to the side, and when he faced me again, his eyes were dead calm. "Big mistake.”

He caught my wrist before I could strike him again and pinned me to the wall once more, this time facing him.

“I could break you," he spat, his words like from a storm.

"Go ahead," I challenged, glaring up at him. "I'd like to see you try, Mr. Creek."

For a moment, we just glared at each other, the air thick with tension between us. Then, releasing my wrist slowly, his eyes flaming with anger, he spoke in a tightly restrained voice.

“Get dressed," he said curtly. "We are leaving in an hour.”

I shook my head, and defiance just welled up in me. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"For the love of Gods, Artemis," he snarled, which came out louder. "Just once, just freaking do as I say!"

"I'm keeping my end of the deal, Aidan," I shot back. "Why don't you try keeping yours?"

His expression darkened further, and for a moment I thought he might lose it again. But instead, he took a step backward, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"Fine. Do whatever you want," he said in a low, cold voice.

I stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

The shower did little to soothe me. I let the hot water run across my skin, washing away the anger, the tension, and the smoldering touch of Aidan's fingers.

I opened the door, stepped out, and wrapped a towel tightly around me to find him still sitting, lounging on the couch as if he were some kind of proprietor of this place. 

"You're still here?" I said, placing a hand on my hip.

 His eyes scanned me and then rested a fraction of a second too long in places before finally coming to mine. 

"Get dressed. Daymon's waiting for you downstairs.”

I scowled. "You're so grumpy. How do women even put up with you?”

Aidan smirked, standing and stretching lazily. "I'm rich, and I'm good in bed. That's usually enough for them." 

I rolled my eyes, but my stomach twisted in a way I rather wouldn't acknowledge.

"Now hurry up," he said, his voice keener again. "We're already late." 

As he was leaving the room, I watched him go, and not for the first time, I wondered if I'd made a mistake stepping into his world.