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But now I’m the one who has questions. A part of me is still surprised she’s agreed to this—obviously because of the extremely large sum of money I’ve offered, but that’s even more confusing. I knew Mel for years when we were younger. Money was never a motivation for her.
So what’s changed?
I glance at the walls again—the drawings, a watercolor painting of her childhood house that makes my heart ache. Her aunt’s: I remember it well. We used to sit out on the front porch in the sun, soaking up the summer days before we fell in love. When we were still just friends.
Shaking off the past, I stand abruptly and hold out the check. Mel takes it, blinking.
“I need to get going. But look over the NDA, and text me if you have any questions. Read up on our backstory. I’ll see you Monday, otherwise.”
“Okay. Yes.” A frown, and then she says softly, “Thank you for today, Jenson. I know it’s all so I’ll look the part, but I still appreciate you footing the bill and everything.”
I smile. She’d practically had an aneurysm at the total in a few stores.
At the door, I pause, an impulse overtaking me.
“You don’t need any of it, you know. You’re beautiful, Mel. This is just pretend. To convince everyone else.” And even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t resist reaching out to her and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
The words and my touch surprise her, and I don’t wait for a response, closing the door behind me and practically running back down those narrow stairs.
A whole day of soaking her in. Her scent, the adorable scrunch of her nose, the tempting curves of her body, basking in pulsing desire each time she stepped out of a fitting room and met my eyes.
We need to fake being in love.
But I don’t think I’ll have any problem faking how badly I want her.
Chapter5
Melanie
As soon as I hear Jenson’s car hum away down the street, as if he can’t get away from me any faster, I stand and taking an aching breath.
All day I’ve been holding…somethingin. I don’t know what. Panic? Self-consciousness?
No, not that. I couldn’t be self-conscious with the way Jenson was looking at me. Even if he’s treating me like a means to an end, it’s clear that I at least meet the physical standards of what he wants in a fiancé.
That look he gave me when I tried on the red bathing suit…it comes flooding back, and a shiver goes through my body, lighting me up with desire.
It’d be silly to say Jenson hasn’t aged well. He carries himself with a confidence that’s not cocky, but self-assured. It’s insanely attractive on a man. Plus, he still has a few inches on me, and the way his eyes bore into mine when he looks down at me…
Another shiver. A pulse ofwant.
I fight it back. The last thing I need is to complicate this whole situation, which was already too complicated the moment I stepped foot in Dupont Analytics. Why didn’t I do my research before applying for the job?
Because you needed the money.
Why didn’t I turn around and walk right out the moment I saw Jenson Sharpe dripping wet?
The money—
Why did I agree to be his fiancé for the next few months? Surely we’ll have to be in close quarters, and I can barely control myself already. Just the way he looks at me is setting my skin on fire.
Karma comes back to remind me as my cell rings shrilly, making me jump. I scramble to grab it before it tips off the coffee table, sitting next to the absurdly large check Jenson left in my possession.
Jodie’s name is on the screen.
The money.
“Hi, Jodie.” I sound chipper, at least, despite how exhausted—mentally and physically—I feel.
