Page 53 of Lucky Puck

No, scratch that. I admire her, that’s all. I’m fine. I’m cool. I kick ass in my job, don’t I? I rock this business suit—who cares if it’s a little tight across my butt and my blouse gaps between the buttons and⁠—

Her raven hair swings in glorious waves around her face as she turns to greet us, her brilliant blue eyes and big smile frighteningly warm and friendly and menacing in its disarming effect. Shit. She’s exactly like her brother. Full of lively mischief and charm and more beautiful in person than is fair—I mean, than I imagined. In a word, she immediately intimidates the hell out of me. Okay, so that’s a few words. My mind jumbles up with all the words tripping over each other when I know I’m expected to say something.

“Brooks—I mean, Bianca—this is my sister Kara.”

“I know. I mean, I’m pleased to meet you.” It’s all I can say because I’m on autopilot like some cyborg that they forgot to program for charm and poise. I feel stiff and mechanical.

Until Brody leans close, lowering his mouth close to my ear and he… nibbles. That sparks all kinds of things to life, loosening up all the feelings—none of them appropriate for the moment, but I’ll take it as prompts go.

My lips curve and I lean into his nuzzling, reminding myself this sinful gesture is exactly the right thing to do, that our charade gives me permission to let my wanton impulses go—just a little.

“My new wife,” Brody murmurs, and his breath skips over my nerves, hitting each one as it travels down my neck, not stopping until the pulses of pleasure reach that strategic location right between my thighs.

The giggle that comes from my throat sounds like it comes from a television somewhere, playing an X-rated movie. It couldn’t be me.

Scratch that. Kara’s raised brows and open mouth as she stares at me tell me, yes, it’s me and my ridiculous PDA.

“So you’re the new… wife.” Her eyes shutter, and all the friendliness and warmth disappear like I’ve done something terribly wrong. Then she puts out a hand to go with her neutrally polite smile. It’s the kind of smile I recognize from the many business events I’ve attended.

“Glad to finally meet you, Bianca. I understand you were Brody’s agent, from the Jett Agency?”

“I am—still am his agent.” I separate myself from Brody—or try to. He holds on, not giving me a lot of room, but it feels like his hold is more protective than possessive. I don’t know how to describe the difference. Maybe it’s all in my head. Wishful thinking. Stupid thinking.

“Bianca is a super-agent,” Brody says. “I would never let her go.” He drops his hand suddenly from around my waist, where it had wound its way, infiltrating its warmth. I feel the sudden absence like a cold chill.

“Why wouldn’t I want her to continue representing me? She’s done a fantastic job sealing the deal on a big promotional campaign with Cavalaro Motors⁠—”

“I never heard of them,” Kara says, looking between us with something like suspicion, unless it’s paranoid guilt getting to me.

Brody grins. “You will. They’re an up-and-coming Italian luxury car company, and the campaign we just shot will blow people’s minds when they see it.”

“Plus, the added exposure from our recent notoriety will make it even more effective,” I join in, catching Brody’s enthusiasm.

But when Kara raises a knowing brow, I realize my mistake.

“No—it’s not like we planned it that way⁠—”

“Don’t worry, honeybun. Kara would never think that I staged a Vegas wedding as a publicity stunt.”

Kara snorts and lets out a long breath. “Oh my god.”

I look between them, not sure if what I think is happening is really happening. Is Brody telling his sister in not-so-many words that our so-called Vegas wedding was a publicity stunt? Maybe he is. Because then there won’t be any surprise or disappointment when we get our fake divorce.

It’s brilliant, actually, and I may have to copy that page from his book of mischief.

She wipes a hand across her brow in mock relief and splits a wide smile, showing her impossibly shiny snow-white teeth. “You had me worried for a minute or two. But don’t worry. I won’t spill your secret.” She looks between us. “Although I will have to say you do a convincing job on the newlywed chemistry between you.” She waves her hand back and forth and then wiggles her eyebrows.

“It’s not⁠—”

“I’m not judging. Why not make the most of it?” She laughs and moves in to give me a one-armed hug. That’s all she can manage because Brody pulls me in from the other side and gathers me close, and I feel like the insides of a warm, mushy Holden sibling sandwich. Not a bad feeling if I’m honest. A little smothering and a lot weird since the pretext is still alive and well.

She thinks we’re married and that there’s something between us.

I wish. I mean about there being something between us—though not marriage. Of course not. But maybe a… flirtation. A real one—not the forced fake one.

But then again, the way he looked at me like he was the big bad wolf seemed real enough. And those kisses… maybe we do have some real chemistry. Maybe it wasn’t all an act on his part. Heaven knows it was no act on my part.

“Where’s your luggage?” Brody says, looking toward the entryway.