His hand brushes the outside of my thigh. "I want to announce our relationship at the party."
"Oh. Okay."
"And to ask you to marry me."
"Already?" It's only been a week. Not even.
He nods. "Things are moving faster than I'd hoped."
"What things?"
His gaze goes back to the window. "We'll need to move up our timeline. Get married next month."
"Next month as in April?"
He nods. "That is the month after March."
I think he's teasing me. Maybe. "Is that really plausible?"
"If we tell everyone we've been dating in secret." He looks me in the eyes. There's something in his expression. A sadness. "I hate rushing this, but it's the only way."
"What do you need from me?"
"I made a document. More of my history. A fake history for us. I need you to make one for yourself. Tomorrow. Email it to me. I'll have it memorized."
"We could just hang out. Get to know each other. That kind of thing."
His smile is sad. "There isn't time." He leans in to press his lips to mine. "This is faster. Easier." He finishes his last sip of whiskey, stands, brings the glass back to the bar. "I'm going to be busy the rest of the week. I'll send a car for you Friday."
"Okay."
He turns so his back is to me. "You're welcome to hang out in the office, but I need to get back to work."
"Oh. Sure." He's kicking me out of here too. And this time all he got from me was a kiss.
"I'll email the document to you."
I nod. "Sure. I'll see you Friday."
"Goodnight, Kat."
"Goodnight." I turn and leave and spend the subway ride thinking about the sadness in his eyes.
It's something bad.
But what?
Chapter 9
Blake's fingers graze my back. They press the silk of my dress into my skin.
He rests his hand on the curve of my waist.
It's possessive. Sweet. Loving.
Of course, that's all a lie.
No, the possessive part is real. I think. But the rest of it—
I force my lips into a smile.
I lean into his touch.
He turns to me with wide, bright eyes. He stares at me like he's madly in love with me. Like I'm his favorite thing in the entire world.
I swallow hard.
This is a lie.
He doesn't love me. I don't love him. Yes, I have all the facts in his about me memorized, and he knows all of mine, but that's surface level. We don't understand each other. Not when we're dressed.
I press a French-manicured nail into the pad of my thumb. I think about sitting next to Lizzy, gossiping about all the obnoxious customers at Pixie Dust, the boutique where she works. I think about our dinner this evening, the one at the cute place around the corner, with the waiter who always gives me extra pancakes.
When I look back to Blake, I forget everything.
I think about his smile and his eyes and his shoulders.
I think about his body on top of mine.
I think about the sadness that creeps into his expression.
And how badly I want to wipe it away.
He leans in to whisper in my ear. "You're perfect."
My breath catches in my throat. I'm perfect. At pretending. Only I'm not. Not really.
He pulls back and turns to a man in a navy suit.
Blake offers his hand. The guy shakes.
He turns to me. "You must be Kat."
I nod. "I must."
"I've heard a lot about you." He offers his hand.
I take it. Make my grip as strong as I can. "Kat Wilder. It's nice to meet you." I offer my best coquettish grin. Has Blake really mentioned me? We've only been faking dating a week.
"Declan Jones." He pulls his hand back to his side. "Blake undersold your beauty."
I press my lips into a smile. "Thank you. I've heard so much about you." Okay, I skimmed his name in that little document that explained Blake's entire life. Declan is a San Francisco tech guy.
"And where is your date?" Blake asks.
"I'm here on business, my friend. No dates. But I'm glad you volunteered to entertain me." Declan smiles. "Things didn't work out well with Grace. Different lifestyles."
"That means she wasn't okay with him seeing other women." Blake raises an eyebrow as if to challenge his friend.
Declan shrugs with false modesty. So the guy is a bit of a player. No surprise. All that matters is that he's buying into this whole ruse.
I have to admit, it's convincing. Blake is the quiet, protective boyfriend, and I'm the pretty young thing he needs on his arm.
Blake bids his friend goodbye and turns to another man. He's tall, with a strong jaw and deep, intense eyes.
"Should I know him?" I whisper.
Blake shakes his head. "No. He's not a friend."
"Then why's he here?"
"You know the old expression. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."
This time, my smile is real. "You have enemies?"
"More like competitors. That's Phoenix Marlowe. He's the owner of Odyssey."
"I'm barely computer literate."
"It's a new artificial intelligence program. Very cutting edge. It could disrupt the entire industry." He shakes his head. "Listen to me, using lingo. Forgive me."
"Okay." The sincerity in his voice makes my knees weak.
"I should introduce your sister, but…"
"But?"
"He has a reputation."
"You're protective of Lizzy?"
He nods. "She's family now."
I stare back at him. He means it. So something about our impending marriage is real. He really does believe we'll be family. At least for a while.
"He's handsome." He really is. "Not as handsome as you, but—"
"I'm not jealous."
"No? What if I go on and on about how I'd like to tear off his suit?"
Blake stares back at me with a try harder expression.
"How I'd like him to tie me to his bed?"
"Would you?"
"Maybe." No.
Blake's eyes narrow. He is jealous. He shakes his head, refusing to admit it. "Then I'd have to find somewhere private right away. To remind you of how badly you need me."
Yes. I like this plan. I nod. "You should."
But we're cut off by another friend.
I smile through our introduction. Then another. Then a dozen more.
It gets to be a routine. Blake announces me. The guy says something about how I'm too beautiful for Blake. I laugh. Clutch Blake's arm. Insist he's the only one for me.
He holds me tighter.
His voice gets lower.
Like he really is jealous.
Like he can't stand other guys looking at me.
A woman in her mid-twenties cuts in. "Blake."
He remains steel. "This is my sister, Fiona."
She nods hello. Presses her dark hair behind her ears. "Kat, isn't it?"
I nod. "It's nice to meet you."
She nods as she shakes. "Yes… it's… interesting." Her voice trails off. She doesn't believe our story, but she doesn't dwell on it. She turns to her brother. "Mom wants to meet your girlfriend. She said something about how she hopes you finally care about more than getting between a woman's legs."
His mom said that?
That's weird…
Or maybe that's Fiona talking. There's something about her posture. She's on edge. Jealous? Or doubtful? It's hard to say.
Either way, I need to sell this.
I hold Blake tighter. "It's funny. Our relationship started out purely sexual. It was… mind-blowing. I'll spare you the details. But Blake is so sweet." I turn to him. Stare into his eyes. Cultivate every ounce of affection in the world. "I couldn't help myself. I fell head over heels."
He runs his fingertips over my chin. "Kat…" His voice is soft. Sweet. Pure affection.
Pure lov
e.
He leans closer.
Closer.
His lips brush mine.
He kisses me like he's madly in love with me.
My stomach flutters. My knees knock together. My entire body is light. I believe it. I believe every drop of it.
I rise to my tiptoes.
I slide my arm around his neck.
He presses his palm into my lower back to pull me closer.
I kiss back harder. Pretend or not, his lips are perfect against mine.
Fiona scoffs. "Get a room."
Blake pulls back. He throws his sister a fuck you glance. "Where's Trey?"
She plays with her wedding ring. "A conference."
There's a sadness in her expression.
Her husband is off somewhere and Blake is throwing our relationship in her face. That must hurt.