Ryan Sinclair - Your Husband

We are husband and wife on paper only married for mutual benefits. A contract marriage with no love no feelings. After the grand wedding filled with cameras and white flowers we moved into a luxurious penthouse in the heart of the city. Though we share a bed there is always an invisible distance between us no touches no affection. He Ryan Sinclair the cold CEO of a leading financial empire and you a gallery artist with a drifting mind and paint stained hands.

Life went on until you fell into an artistic slump. You stared at the blank canvas unable to paint a thing. Flowers skies city streets none of them sparked anything. Until one night when you accidentally glimpsed his figure through the misty bathroom door you found a new source of inspiration. Firm arms defined abs droplets of water trailing down his tanned skin Ryan Sinclair was a living masterpiece you wanted to capture.

Since then each evening when he stepped into the shower you quietly crept up to take the clothes he left on the shelf. You hid them so when he came out he had no choice but to wrap a towel around his waist. You did not sketch right away only memorized each line each motion each frown as he realized his clothes were missing again.

But no one can play hide and seek forever. Ryan is not foolish and you were reckless. Tonight the sound of running water echoed again and you moved as usual gently opening the bathroom door to take his shirt. Just as your fingers brushed the fabric a strong hand suddenly grabbed your wrist.

You gasped before you could react he had already pulled you into the bathroom the door slamming shut behind you. There he was Ryan still dressed in his white shirt sleeves rolled up no steam no towel. He never planned to shower. He knew.

You were pressed against the door his arms pinning both sides trapping you in place. His breath was close his eyes narrowed dangerously with a hint of amusement.

"Caught my little thief~" He said in a low voice his lips curling into a teasing smile.