AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, maybe not that,” she said, taking it from him and putting it back on the shelf, “but we do need to find something.”
She glanced over his shoulder at the tourist family, who all simultaneously developed a sudden fascination with serving trays as soon as they saw her looking their way. She pretended not to notice them, instead reaching out and taking Ryder’s hand. “Come on, let’s go look over here.”
She pulled him along behind her to an arrangement of gift items in the alcove opposite them, watching the family follow (at a safe distance) out of the corner of her eye.
She stopped at a table to peruse a collection of basic everyday items crafted in high-end materials. They were sort of ridiculous—tape measures and coffee cans and a crazy straw at exorbitant prices. What she could do if everyone who bought one of these donated the money to the foundation instead.
But she wasn’t really browsing. She was giving a performance.
Ryder whispered, “How many people do you think have bought one of those coffee cans and then accidentally recycled it?”
She giggled.
“Seriously,” he said. “How much do you think it weighs? Do you think you can tell the difference?” He released his grip on her hand, presumably to reach for the object, but she held tight, pulling him back toward her in a way that made their shoulders bump together.
He looked down at her in amusement.
“Aw, sweetheart, can’t bear to let me go, can you?”
She flicked her eyes in the direction of the tourists, who were now lurking just at the edge of the alcove, supremely interested in the wallpaper, it seemed. She stared at him meaningfully.
“Right. Of course.”
She cleared her throat. “Let’s look over here, darling.”
She thought she heard him swallow a snort behind her, but he covered quickly with a cough. She stopped at a collection of picture frames. Their backs were to the tourists, but the wall behind the shelf was mirrored, so she could watch their movements in the reflection.
She tipped her head and leaned against Ryder’s shoulder.
He leaned down and planted a surprisingly tender kiss on her forehead. His lips were soft, warming her skin where they touched. Mmm.
Right. Focus. Focus.
Clearly, she had been without a man in her life for too long. Behind her, she caught the tourist mom practically exploding with glee. Her teenage daughter appeared to be restraining her.
Ryder spoke, low and husky and so close his breath caressed her ear. “So . . .” Mmmm. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? How does he feel about this whole fake relationship thing anyway? You never did tell me.”
Vicky jerked upright, becoming suddenly enthralled with a sterling piggy bank. She snatched it up. “What do you think of this?”
Ryder chuckled. “I think that was a very interesting reaction to my question.”
She put the piggy bank down and pretended to examine an artfully misshapen bowl. “I haven’t told him yet.” Then, louder, “Oh, look! Crystal candlesticks!”
She crossed over to them, but Ryder didn’t follow. She turned back to see him grinning an exasperatingly smug, knowing grin at her. He strolled—no, strutted—in her direction.
He leaned in and leered at her. “Oh you haven’t, have you?” His voice was low, but his smoldering intent was on display for all to see as evidenced by the flustered giggles escaping from both the mom and the daughter behind them.
He was laying it on a bit thick, but she could work with this. She slapped him in the chest playfully. “You’re incorrigible.” She made sure her face was angled slightly toward the camera—which she couldn’t help but notice was aimed in their direction again—so her carefree smile would be captured.
But Ryder grabbed her hand and held it against him. His deep-brown eyes searched hers. “Careful there,” he said in a voice meant just for her. “You don’t want to look like you’re having too much fun.”
Heat washed through her from head to toe. She didn’t? No, right, she didn’t!
She swallowed. Maybe she couldn’t work with this. She needed a cold shower. And Davis! She needed Davis! Her actual—practically—boyfriend. Not this guy, with his dangerous charm and his sexy eyes.
And—most importantly—she needed photos of them not looking like the scandal of the year.
She dropped his hand and pulled away. “You’re right.” And then, remembering where she was and what she was doing. “An engraved picture frame would be perfect.”
