Page 21 of Fake it for Keeps

“You’re under contract,” I reminded her, letting a hint of steel creep into my voice. “Which means you do what I tell you to do. When I tell you to do it. Understood?”

Her eyes flashed with something that looked an awful lot like hatred. Good. I’d rather have her angry than apologetic.

“This is going to be a long six months,” she muttered, just loud enough for me to hear. “No wonder you’re still a bachelor. You’re an asshat.”

I laughed, the sound surprising even me. “An asshat?” I repeated, grinning now. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“I’m still being polite,” she shot back. “I was going to say douch canoe.”

I arched an eyebrow. “What the hell is a douche canoe?”

“Look in a mirror.”

Still grinning, I reached out and took her hand, pulling her back toward the display cases filled with necklaces, earrings and bracelets. Hallie resisted for half a second before allowing herself to be led. I could feel the tension radiating off her in waves.

Perfect.

I positioned us in front of a case filled with loose diamonds and custom settings, then moved to stand behind her, close enough that my chest brushed against her back. I felt her stiffen, felt her breath catch.

Even better.

My hand landed on her hip, and I let it rest there for a moment before slowly trailing it upward. Over the curve of her waist. Along her ribcage. To her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice slightly breathless.

“Selling it,” I murmured back. “There are photographers outside. Employees watching. Everyone’s waiting to see if this is real.”

I slid my hand from her shoulder to her jaw, my fingers gentle but insistent as I turned her face toward mine. Her skin was silky smooth. I could feel her pulse against my thumb.

Her eyes met mine, wide and uncertain, and I saw the exact moment her defiance crumbled into something else. Something that looked a lot like want.

“My bachelor ways are a gift to womenkind,” I purred, letting my voice drop into that low register I knew women couldn’t resist. “If you behave, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Her face turned bright pink. The blush spread from her cheeks down her neck and disappeared beneath the V of her sweater. She opened her mouth, probably to tell me off, but nothing came out.

I held her gaze for a moment longer, letting the tension stretch between us like a rubber band pulled taut. Then I released her and turned back to the display case, acting as if nothing had happened.

“Now,” I said, my tone back to business. “We’ll need at least one necklace and matching pair of earrings. Pick something.”

For the rest of the appointment, Hallie stopped apologizing to the staff. Stopped hedging her answers with qualifiers like “maybe” and “I think.” When Monica showed her a simple diamond teardrop necklace and matching earrings, she looked to me for approval.

I raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her.

Hallie turned back to Monica and smiled. “That set. Yes, please. It’s perfect.”

“Excellent choice,” Monica said, beaming.

We finalized the details. Monica understood the necklace and diamonds, which were actually real, would be substituted with the fake stuff when she sent it to my penthouse.

As we prepared to leave, I caught Hallie’s reflection in one of the mirrors. She looked conflicted. Like she couldn’t decide if she was excited or terrified.

I understood the feeling.

“Ready?” I asked, offering her my arm.

She took it, and we walked out of Valenteen together, putting on a show for the photographers who’d multiplied while we were inside. I kept my hand in the small of her back, pulled her in close when we reached the car, even dropped a kiss on her forehead for good measure.

The cameras ate it up.

Inside the car, Hallie let out a long breath and slumped against the leather seat. “That was exhausting.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“Will I?”

I glanced at her, taking in the way she’d already kicked off the designer heels and was rubbing her feet.

“You will,” I said. “Because you don’t have a choice.”

She didn’t respond, just turned to stare out the window as the city blurred past.

I found myself wondering if I’d just made the best decision of my life.

Or the worst.