Название | Pregnant By The Ceo |
---|---|
Автор произведения | HelenKay Dimon |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | The Jameson Heirs |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474076135 |
“Let’s see if we need to.”
He lowered his head as his hand slid into her hair. Fingers expertly massaged the back of her neck. His mouth lowered until it hovered over hers. For a second he hesitated, with his eyes searching her face, then his lips met hers. Mouth against mouth, he brushed over hers once. Twice. So enticing.
His scent wrapped around her and his fingers tightened on her. One second they stood a foot apart. The next he closed in. The caress turned to kissing, deep and alive with need. Energy arced between them. Every touch, every press of his lips, proved hot and inviting.
He pulled her tight against him and her common sense faltered. Heat burned through her as her arms slipped up to wrap around his neck. She’d just balanced against his body when he pulled back.
“Right.” He cleared his throat as his chest rose and fell on harsh breaths. “There we go.”
A haze covered her brain. “There we go?”
“Sure. That was fine.” He set her away from him. Increased the distance between them to a few feet.
The man was an idiot.
“Fine?” She could barely feel her legs.
“Yes. I’m confident we can fake it.” He started walking around the room, almost pacing. “We’ll start with dates. In public. Let people see us together.” He nodded as he continued the one-sided conversation. “I’d say in a week we move you into my place and announce the engagement.”
“That’s too fast.” She was impressed her brain even spit that sentence out. Right now she couldn’t think at all. The kiss had blown out every rational thought and had her wanting to slide that tie right off him.
“Well, it looks as if you’re ready to pack.”
“I need to sit.” She plunked down hard on the armrest of the couch and struggled not to run her fingertips over her lips.
“We’ll have a party—”
“No.” Good grief, he was already planning. That was enough to snap her out of it.
“Not a big, flashy Christmas party. Just the normal engagement party.”
It took a few seconds but her common sense came back. Doubt rushed in right behind it.
“First, it’s March. Second, I’m Jewish.” That seemed important to throw in there even in a fake engagement, so she did. “And third... I fear your idea of normal.”
“We invite the people who need to see us.”
People who would later wonder what happened and why it all ended, but he seemed to ignore that part. Fine. It was his problem and they were his friends, so he could figure it out. But she did have one issue she could not ignore. “And what do I tell my brother to keep him from killing you?”
“That we sparked. Tell him a one-night stand turned into something more.”
Derrick. Sex. She blocked the thoughts that rolled through her head. The kiss had been enough to unravel her. Anything more would be a huge mistake. “You want me to lie to him?”
“That’s the point. We lie to him and the public to diffuse Noah’s claims.”
She couldn’t blame Derrick for that requirement. Noah hadn’t exactly been subtle in his attack on Derrick to date. But something about his self-assurance about this agreement and all these details started an alarm bell ringing in her head. “You have this all figured out, don’t you?”
“I thought so.”
She swung her foot, letting the pink slipper flip through the air. “What does that mean?”
“You’re not what I expected.”
She stilled. “Right back at ya.”
“Lucky for us, I can adapt.”
Yeah, lucky her. “You don’t exactly strike me as a guy who enjoys surprises.”
Some of the tension drained from his face as he stared at her. That sexy little smile of his returned. “Maybe I can change.”
She hadn’t known that to work with any guy ever. “Oh, come on.”
He walked up to her and picked the agreement off her lap. “Sign.”
“You know you can’t date anyone else while we’re pretending to like each other, right?” For some reason it was suddenly very important to her that he know if she did this, they did it together. They’d both suffer.
He made a face. “Does it say that?”
“It will when we write in a bunch of notes in the margin and both initial them.” She tapped the agreement. “Basically, every ridiculous provision that applies to me will now apply to you.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Fine.”
That was almost too easy. “That means you’re stuck with me for... Wait, there’s no end time on this agreement.”
His eyebrow lifted. “I’m aware.”
For about the hundredth time since she’d met him yesterday she got the sense she was being outmaneuvered. She hated the sensation. “You get two months of fake fiancée time.”
“That might not be enough. Say at least three.”
She reached down and picked a pen up off her coffee table. She clicked the end and handed it to him. “I’m sure you can adapt to two.”
“It seems you think I’ll be adapting a lot over the next few weeks.” He sounded stunned by the idea.
“I’m happy you realize that. It will make our time together, limited though it may be, more tolerable.”
His smile widened. “We’ll see.”
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