Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 63

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Chapter 63

I remained lying among the vines, my body still thrumming with desire as Christian stepped away to take his grandfather’s call. The torn dress barely covered me, the black lingerie with red accents glowing under the moonlight. The night breeze caressed my overheated skin, slowly pulling me back to reality.

The minutes dragged on as I stared up at the stars, my mind tangled with conflicting thoughts. What were we doing? This marriage had an expiration date-six months, no more. It was just a business arrangement. I wasn’t supposed to get involved. For Christian, it would always be simple. Attraction. Sex. For me, it wasn’t nearly that simple.

Christian returned, slipping his phone into his pocket. His steps were steady as he approached, but his face carried a worried shadow in the moonlight.

“You’re overthinking,” he observed, sitting down beside me between the vines. “I can practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

I tugged the torn fabric of my dress around me as best I could, suddenly feeling exposed.

“I think we should head back,” I said simply, avoiding his eyes.

Christian frowned, clearly frustrated, but nodded.

“Sorry about the interruption,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. “I was worried about my grandfather’s health. I couldn’t ignore the call.”

“Is he alright?” I asked, genuine concern breaking through.

“Yes.” Christian’s shoulders eased a little. “He just wanted to make sure we’d arrived safely.”

“He’s very attached to you.”

“It’s mutual,” Christian admitted, and for a moment something rare flickered across his face-a vulnerability he rarely let show.

“He seems so happy we’re here,” I said softly. “Happy you’re married.”

Christian’s smile was tinged with melancholy, one I didn’t see often.

“It’s no secret he’s always dreamed of seeing me ‘settled down,’ as he puts it.” His eyes found mine, unexpectedly sincere. “Thank you for giving him that joy, even if it’s temporary.”

Something in the way he said temporary tightened my chest. I nodded, unable to trust my voice.

The silence stretched between us, not exactly uncomfortable, but thick with things unspoken-possibilities neither of us dared to name.

“Did he say anything else?” I asked at last.

“Yes, actually.” Christian’s mouth curved into a smile. “He wanted to be sure I showed you the Sophie Vineyard under the moonlight. Said it’s a Kensington tradition for newlyweds. Apparently, it brings good luck.”

“Well, mission accomplished, I’d say,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light despite the tension lingering between us.

Christian nodded, his gaze flicking to my ruined dress.

“Maybe not exactly as he imagined, but yes.” He handed me his shirt. “Here-wear this. Lucy would never forgive me if I brought you back to the villa in that state.”

I glanced down at my torn dress and blushed furiously. He wasn’t wrong.

“Thank you,” I murmured, taking the shirt.

I turned slightly as I buttoned it with trembling fingers. It was absurdly large on me, falling almost to my knees, but at least it covered me completely.

When I turned back, Christian was standing, his bare torso gleaming under the moonlight. He was unbelievably handsome-broad shoulders, defined muscles, a sight that made my heart race again despite my attempts to steel myself.