From Friend To Fake Fiancé. Jules Bennett

he’d kissed her, held her and stared into her eyes when he delivered that shocking blow...this man wasn’t joking anymore. He was full-on trying to get her into his bed, and if she wasn’t careful that’s exactly where she’d find herself. Talk about an awkward morning after, and she just couldn’t risk their friendship.

      Stretching her arms out, she clasped her fingers behind her head. She really needn’t get too worked up, though. Mac loved women and women, understandably, loved Mac. He had charm, power, a killer body and a smile that could melt the clothes right off your body.

      But she had to remind herself the proposition had nothing to do with her personally. Mac was a world-renowned playboy. He’d earned his reputation by his actions over the years and Jenna wasn’t naive. She’d seen firsthand what a damaging relationship could do. Granted, her parent’s situation was much different, but her mother had still been crushed, destroyed and ultimately had turned to the bottle when Jenna’s father walked out. Jenna didn’t think she’d ever be dependent on alcohol, but she was vulnerable to the same emotional damage her mother had suffered. Jenna knew if she allowed herself to be intimate with Mac two things would happen: she would love every single erotic moment, and he’d leave her wanting more as he walked away. She refused to be dependent on her feelings, to let her emotions lead her common sense around on a leash. Jenna had to keep a level head about this and remember everything going on here was all for show.

      So, while her lips may still be tingling from their earlier encounter, she had to ignore the urge to take what he so eagerly offered.

      Mac’s heavy footsteps hit the wood deck. “Here you go.”

      After handing her a glass of iced tea, peach she guessed from the scent, he walked to the edge of the deck and took a seat. With the huts and decks built right on the water, his feet rested in the crystal-clear ocean. His black T-shirt pulled across his broad shoulders. His dark, unruly hair curled just slightly on the ends. Jenna didn’t care that she was checking out her best friend. She’d done it for years, and the older he got, the sexier Mac O’Shea became. This combination ocean/hottie view was definitely one she would be enjoying all week.

      “So, tell me what’s on the agenda for tomorrow.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, offering her an evil, lopsided grin. “Kissing on the beach, you unable to keep your hands off me, frolicking in the ocean?”

      Jenna took a hearty drink of her iced tea and rolled her eyes. “I think we’ll stick with hand holding, a few hugs and some lingering glances. Can you handle that?”

      With a shrug, he turned back to the ocean. “I can handle anything. I’m in Bora Bora with my best friend and I have everything under control with the upcoming auction. I could use a few days to rest up, even if I’m pretending to be in love.”

      A sliver of guilt started to course through her. “I know I’m putting you in a weird position, so if you want to back out, do it now before we get too far.”

      Mac turned, rested his back against one of the posts and drew one knee up as he met her gaze. “Jenna, I came here for you. If you need me to hold your hand, literally, to get through this next week, that’s what I’m going to do. Stop worrying about my feelings or whatever else is going through that head of yours.”

      She sat up in her lounge chair and swiveled her legs to the side. Clutching her glass, she watched the drops of condensation slide down it, disappearing beneath the pads of her fingers. Worry gnawed at her and she knew she could be totally honest with Mac about her deepest concern.

      “I don’t want things to get awkward between us.”

      “Then stop analyzing it to death,” he commanded. “We’ll be fine. The ex will think you’ve moved on, your sister’s wedding will be over and done, and you’ll be back in Miami by next week.”

      In theory everything sounded so perfect and easy. Reality always had other plans, though.

      Jenna took another drink before looking over to Mac, who was still staring at her. “Do you want something to eat? The resort actually stocked our kitchen. I don’t even want to know what Amy paid for all of this.”

      Mac shook his head. “Nah. I was joking earlier. I’m too tired to eat, anyway. That whirlwind trip to Barcelona wiped me out.”

      “I’m sure the lovely Lolita you left behind with a smile would take that as a compliment.”

      Mac pulled his other foot from the water and hopped to his feet. “Lolita was nowhere to be found,” he retorted as he took a seat beside her on the lounge chair. “The trip was all business. I didn’t see one naked woman the entire time.”

      Gasping, Jenna mocked him. “No wonder you’re so cranky. And here I’m putting a damper on your social life because you have to pretend to be taken.”

      “We don’t have to pretend,” he replied with raised brows. “Say the word and we’ll make use of this lounge chair.”

      Jenna sprang to her feet and headed toward the open doorway. “Chill out, stud. I have enough to handle without feeding your overactive hormones.”

      Mac followed her into the hut. Jenna rinsed her empty glass and just as she went to set it on the counter, it slipped from her hands and shattered all over the ceramic tile.

      Cursing beneath her breath, she glanced down, trying to figure out how to get out of the mess without cutting her bare feet.

      “Don’t move.”

      Mac stepped carefully around the shards and seconds later lifted her into his arms.

      “Put me down. I’m heavy.”

      Halting his steps, Mac met her gaze, his face mere inches above hers. “You’re not heavy, Jenna. You’re perfect. I won’t want to hear that from your mouth again.”

      Closing her eyes, praying for the humiliation to pass, Jenna sighed. “Just put me down. I’ll put some shoes on and get this mess cleaned up.”

      “I can get it.”

      “You’re going to cut yourself,” she argued, though the point was moot now.

      “Better me than you.”

      He placed her on the sofa and stood back, his hands on his hips, his narrowed eyes daring her to argue. Jenna held her hands up in defeat. She wasn’t fighting with him. She chose her battles wisely. Besides, she had to admit she rather liked this whole knight-to-her-rescue thing.

      Moments later, once the glass was all discarded and he’d swept the floor thoroughly, Mac returned and sat on the table in front of the sofa. Straddling her legs, he reached down and placed one of her feet on his leg. When he started to examine her, she pulled her foot away.

      “I’m fine. I wasn’t cut.”

      “You’re sure?”

      Jenna snorted. “I think I’d know, Mac. Calm down. Were you cut?”

      He merely shrugged. The man was infuriating at times.

      “You know, you could’ve called someone to come clean that up.”

      Shaking his head, he replied, “By the time someone came, I would’ve been done. It’s not a big deal.”

      Mac O’Shea might have been a billionaire, he might have been a mysterious, powerful man, but he wasn’t lazy. He worked hard and always remembered that just because someone had money didn’t make them better than anyone else. His father had instilled that value in all of the kids, and Jenna admired Mac and his siblings for being so conscious of other people’s feelings...unless those people crossed the line. Then the O’Sheas left no room for negotiation, if the rumors were correct. Still, overall they were good people. She knew about the charities they silently donated to. She’d overheard Mac talking on the phone once to Laney, his sister, but Jenna hadn’t said a word. She was proud the family didn’t boast about the fact they shared their wealth. That’s what giving was all about.

      The sun had sunk