“Why?”
He didn’t want to answer that. “Have you made up your mind?”
She gnawed on her lower lip, her eyes probing his. “Let me just make sure I understand the rules.” She plaited and unplaited her fingers in her lap. “We’d pretend to be engaged, after a whirlwind relationship. We’d have to act like a couple-in-love—,”
“For the benefit of my family,” he interjected.
“Right.” She bit into her lower lip again, drawing his attention to its full softness, so his groin strained against his pants. Christ. When was the last time he’d had a spontaneous erection? He couldn’t think, but he’d put money on his having been a teenager at the time. He crossed an ankle over his knee, to disguise the unwelcome response. It didn’t help, though. All he could think about was how good it would feel to drag her lip between his teeth and hold it there, to clamp the flesh between his lips, to slide his tongue into her mouth and feel her soft warmth…
“And then we’d break up, like, sometime after Christmas.”
He nodded slowly, trying not to focus on how much he’d like to feel those hands of hers on his body.
“What would we say? Like, why would we say we’d broken up?”
“Take your pick.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps it’s best to work out our approach closer to the time. Suffice it to say, you can choose whatever reason you’d like.”
She nodded, apparently satisfied by this. “And then, there’s the question of the living arrangements.”
His arousal jerked against his pants. Jesus. Desire coursed through his veins, making it hard to think straight. He didn’t speak; he wasn’t sure his voice would come out without a crack. He’d been plunged back into the nightmare that was teenage hormones and he wasn’t enjoying the loss of control.
“Do I have to live with you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It won’t seem authentic otherwise.”
“I’m old fashioned.”
“You mean a virgin?” Down, boy.
Her cheeks flushed bright pink. “That’s hardly any of your business.”
He didn’t answer.
“And, no,” she looked away, chewing on that delectable lower lip again. “That’s not what I meant.”
He expelled a long, slow breath. This was going from bad to worse. He was picturing her in bed now and it was making it hard to think straight.
“I always thought I’d get married before I moved in with someone.”
“You do realise it’s the twenty first century.”
“Yes, and I’ll have you know lots of people feel the same way I do so don’t look at me like that.” She pinned him with a steely gaze and he found himself smiling. “Or laugh at me,” she added for good measure, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m not.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I just don’t think it’s that big a deal, particularly given that we won’t actually be living together in the sense you’re worrying about.”
She nodded slowly. “But I’ll always be your fiancé. Even after this is over, there’ll be this version of events on the internet.”
“Yes.” He sobered immediately. “And only you can decide if the payment is worth the price.”
She reached for the wine glass; it was almost empty. Ordinarily, he’d have gone into the kitchen to retrieve the bottle and top up her glass, but his arousal was still very much in play, and to move would be to attract attention to it, so he stayed right where he was.
“I’ll do it,” she said after a beat. “Just until after Christmas.” She looked as though she was steeling herself for the reality that lay ahead. He couldn’t help but smirk at her obvious reticence, given the way women usually fell all over themselves to get his attention. It was somewhat of a novelty to have made this arrangement with Skye. At least he didn’t have to worry about her wanting to seduce him.
Except…he wasn’t imagining the spark between them. It wasn’t one-sided. When they were close, electricity arced.
He’d have to be careful, to make sure it didn’t flare up during their time together. Even when giving into temptation would be so much more fun…