She blinked, and her lips clamped together silently, and then her eyes darted toward down the hall. I smacked my right hand on the other side of her, caging her in place with my arms. She wasn’t running away this time. “Don’t even think about it. Neither of us are going anywhere until I get my guitar. Simple as that. I will be out of your fucking life, and you won’t go to jail. Do you know what they do to pretty little monsters like you in prison?”
“Not that I care. But why is it so important to you?”
“It belongs to me.”
“Wrong. Possession is nine tenths of the law, so technically…”
“Fuck this. I don’t do games.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Thinking this could be dealt with in a civil manner was one of the worst ideas I’d come up with to date. I’ll let the sherriff handle your ass. I have enough to deal with over the next two weeks. Itriedbeing nice,” I warned her, clicking Alexander’s name in my contacts.
“I’ll give the guitar back,” she said in a small voice, but I ignored her, listening to the phone ringing in my ear. “Surely, we can work something out. I could help you with whatever you have to do these next two weeks. An extra set of hands around couldn’t hurt, right?” She rambled with such speed, her words were running into one another.
“It’s not something you can physically…” I stopped midsentence, the line going to a busy signal, and tucked my phone back into my pants. She didn’t know what she was offering in her desperation, but that didn’t make it any less tempting to accept. She needed to pay for what she’d done, and I sure as shit didn’t want to deal with being someone’s secret valentine. If I could fake a relationship with this gorgeous pain in the ass and not have to deal with anyone else, it would be a two bird, one stone situation. “I’m going to move my arms, and you’re going to open the door. Got that?”
She nodded, plucking her key from her cleavage. My eyes widened, and I cocked my head to the side, silently questioning her. She shrugged. “I stuffed them in there when I saw you outside.”
I still didn’t trust her not to run. As far as I was concerned, she was a flight risk, and until she returned my guitar, under no circumstance was I letting her out of my sight. “I’ll do the honors.” I pulled her key from her fingers, unlocking the door, and held it open for her. Her eyes flickered up to my face, and the confusion swimming within her body was unmistakable. She wasn’t entirely alone, because although I wasn’t as lost as she was, I didn’t know . Whether or not she would be arrested was up to her. It didn’t really matter to me. Either way, I would get back what belonged to me.
“Guitar first,” I instructed, walking into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, scanning the room for possible places she could have hidden it. She cleared her throat and thenhalfheartedly smiled, motioning behind me. I didn’t understand, so I stared at her for a moment, waiting for clearer instructions. Of course, none came. Either she was scared shitless, or plotting my death. The latter was more believable, though.
She rigidly pointed behind me, and I glared at her. “It’s not on the bed.”
“The fuck it isn’t. Stand up.” She was in no position to bark orders at me. It should be the other way around. The fact that she thought this was acceptable pissed me off beyond belief. When I opened my mouth to tell her such, she huffed, “Get over yourself, Skip, and stand up.”
Out of pure curiosity, I did as she instructed, watching her closely in case she was scheming against me. She grabbed the top corner of the bedspread and pulled it back. She wasn’t lying. Angel’s guitar.My irreplaceable guitarwas definitely not where it should be.
I took her hand in mine. “Skip Turner, your fake boyfriend for the next two weeks.”
Her mouth flew open as she gasped and ripped her hand away. “Listen, this isn’tPretty Woman. I might be young and maybe even a little naïve, I’ll give you that, but I’m not a whore. If you think I’m going to be your sex slave for the next two weeks, then you’re all looks and brawn without zero fucking brains.”
Even though she didn’t deserve the truth, she was honest with me, so I decided to return the favor a little. “As much pleasure as it would give me to make those gorgeous lips beg to come, this isn’t about sex. Things are crazy in this town leading up to Valentine’s Day, and I’m not a happy participant,” I admitted, walking around her and lifting the guitar off the bed, inspecting it for damage.
“Shocker.”
I glared at her over the neck of the guitar before double-checking that it was still straight and she hadn’t ruined theaction. Every part of it checked out, so, for now, I was satisfied. “I don’t do love or relationships.”
“Again…shocker.”
I tried to ignore her, but it was impossible as she lowered her eyes to the side of the guitar, her gaze following my every movement.
“You know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you. You either agree or I call the sheriff. Those are the only options you have.” I blew out a frustrated breath, hating how easily she got under my skin.
“Fiona Dupree, the devil’s pretty little monster,” she said in a deflated voice, dropping onto the mattress. “I can’t afford this room for the next two weeks.”
“Luckily for you, no girlfriend of mine would pay for it,” I assured her, hating how much I enjoyed her claiming to be mine.
“Really? I stole from you, and now, you’re not only asking me to stay in town longer, but paying for me to do so? That doesn’t add up. What would stop me from leaving when you weren’t around?”
“Fiona, I’m going to level with you. When you have endless money, anyone can be found, and you’ll be slapped with the charges so fast that you’ll regret the day you ever made a deal with the devil and broke it,” I warned her, having no idea if I was lying or not. I had the means to make it happen, but not a clue how I would carry it out. Hopefully, I never had to figure it out because I was a man of my word. If she ran, I would find her, and she would regret crossing me.
“I’m not sucking your dick and don’t expect me to do a bunch of dumb shit.”
“You’re not exactly in the position to be bargaining, but I’ll agree to some ground rules.”
“Then I might as well.”
“One: starting tomorrow we will be in a real relationship as far as anyone else is concerned. You will tell no one otherwise, or I’ll send your ass to jail. I’m not kidding, this is not up for debate. Two: you will be doing a lot of dumb shit, but I’ll be doing it with you. Neither of us will enjoy it, but we have to do it anyway to make this believable. If you don’t—”
“Let me guess, you’ll call the cops?”