Chapter 9 – Fiancé? Nah. I Offer Better Packages
Her heart nearly stopped.
But he didn’t wake.
Naomi stood slowly, wiping her hands on a tissue, trying to breathe like a person again. Her face still hot. Her head still short-circuiting.
Lux lay there, still. Quiet. Peaceful, almost. His breathing soft, steady. His arms loose across the bed like he owned it—and the air—and maybe the universe.
She looked down at the last thing in her hand.
A sheet mask.
Her lips twitched. Then curled into a smile.
"I’m doing this," she whispered under her breath.
She carefully peeled open the package and spread the cool, glistening mask in her palms. Then leaned over his face again, biting back a giggle as she laid it carefully across his skin. She smoothed it gently—over his high cheekbones, that annoyingly perfect jaw, across the bridge of his nose.
He mumbled something unintelligible but didn’t move.
She exhaled.
"...Nice," Naomi said, satisfied. "Now you look like a demon accountant wrapped in K-beauty."
She should’ve left. That was the plan.
Just place the sheet mask and sneak out before her thoughts wandered into dangerous territory again.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she stood there. Watching him. Feeling the seconds stretch like soft silk threads between them.
Something about Lux made her forget things. Her engagement. Her plans. Her caution. The rules.
She didn’t want to leave.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers resting gently on her lap. Her gaze wandered over his face again, softened by the white mask. Somehow he looked both ridiculously beautiful and... touchable. Like he wasn’t just some illusion. Like he was here, and maybe—just maybe—he could stay.
She leaned forward, whispering to the quiet. "I wish my fiancé was like you. I know he just wants my inheritance."
The words felt like a confession, even if no one was listening.
Her voice dropped even lower, a small tremble in it. "Maybe it would’ve been better than Carson. Maybe I wouldn’t have run."
Her hand moved before she could stop it—hovering over his shoulder, trembling just slightly.
And then— He caught her.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist in a flash of motion that didn’t match how asleep he looked seconds ago.
Naomi gasped as he pulled her toward him. It wasn’t rough—it was effortless, like gravity decided she belonged there.
She half-fell into his chest, her free hand catching on the bed.
Lux’s eyes were open now.
Not sleepy. Not gentle.
Sharp.
Deadly.
Eyes like someone who’d grown up in fire and negotiations, in danger and silence and thrones made of steel. Not just red—they glowed, faintly, like smoldering embers behind glass.
He stared at her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice a quiet rumble. Soft and lethal.
Naomi’s lips parted, breath stuttering. "I... I only applied a sheet mask for you."
"A sheet mask," Lux repeated. Like the words were foreign and vaguely offensive.
’Ah... mortal beauty things,’ he thought, blinking slowly. ’Right. They do these rituals.’
Not that it mattered. Nothing in that little gel-soaked rectangle could fix what centuries of cursed accounting had done to him. Demons didn’t need serums or vitamin C blends. He just needed sleep, and his skin would regenerate on its own.
Still, it was oddly... sweet.
His eyes narrowed with a faint amusement as he reached up slowly, peeled the mask from his face with two fingers, and flicked it onto the nightstand like it had personally disappointed him.
Naomi couldn’t stop staring. Her heart thudded once—twice—harder.
Now she saw it.
His face.
The real one. Free from stress. From exhaustion. Skin soft, eyes burning, lips slightly parted. His entire aura was a slow, silent seduction without even trying.
Her heart throbbed.
"I want to cancel my engagement," she blurted.
Lux’s brow arched.
She swallowed.
"With Carson," she continued, voice shaking. "I want to choose something else. Someone else."
He didn’t say anything. Just studied her with that stare that made her skin prickle.
Naomi’s voice dropped, eyes on his. "Do you want to be my..."
Lux tilted his head slightly. "Fiancé?"
She nodded.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then—
He smirked.
A slow, dangerous curve of lips that made her forget every part of her name.
"In my place," Lux said, his voice lower than ever, "there’s no such thing as ’fiancé.’"
Naomi blinked, heat spreading from her chest to her ears.
He reached up and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed against her cheek with maddening softness.
"We have partners." His thumb dragged down her jaw, slow and sure. "In business..."
His other hand slipped around her waist, pulling her a fraction closer.
"Or in bed. We can do both."
Naomi’s breath hitched.
Lux sat up fully now, still keeping her close. The blanket shifted dangerously low across his hips. His skin smelled warm and fresh. His presence—raw and magnetic—pulled at her like gravity in a perfume ad gone feral.
Her voice cracked. "You’re not serious."
He leaned in, his nose brushing hers. "I’m always serious about good deals. And you?"
His lips ghosted near her ear.
"You smell like a gamble worth taking."
Naomi trembled. "You’re infuriating."
"You’re adorable when flustered."
"You’re naked."
"And you haven’t run."
She stared at him, stunned.
And then her hands, traitorous little things, found his chest. Smooth. Warm. Her fingers traced his collarbone lightly, and he didn’t stop her.
Didn’t even blink.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What are you doing to me?"
Lux smirked again.
"Just being honest," he whispered.
[System Alert: Incubus Pheromones at 78% and Rising]
[Proximity Boost: Intimacy Bonus Detected]
[Naomi Delacour – Compatibility Level: 94% -> 96%]
He brushed his lips against her temple.
"No contracts. No rings. Just you," he murmured, "and me. Making this vacation interesting. I can give my ’Investment’ to you."
Naomi’s hand clenched against his chest.
"...Okay," she whispered, flushed and breathless. "Then let’s make it interesting."
Lux grinned.
And finally—finally—pulled her down with him.