Fiancée For Sale Page 4

  Brianna is a beautiful, smart woman who seems to charm people wherever she goes.

  “That’s not going to happen,” I tell Derek in a firm tone.

  “Damn. You serious about her already?”

  I stand and turn to the window, staring out across the city. “Her ex didn’t seem to treat her very well and he ended it even worse. The asshole didn’t even pay his share of the wedding bills. She doesn’t need more guys in her life trying to get into her pants.”

  “Who said anything about getting into her pants?” Derek asks.

  No one. But damn it, I can’t think about her without getting worked up. Without wanting to get to know her better. Without wanting something more than a business arrangement. And it’s only been a week.

  I’ve never had a woman charm me so fully in that short of a time. Or maybe ever.

  “I just want things to go smoothly,” I say, though that’s not entirely true.

  But right now, that’s all Derek needs to know. Brianna is still settling in at my place—we’re both still getting used to the situation.

  After that, the novelty’ll probably wear off for me, too. Then we’ll be roommates and we’ll both get through the next several months doing our end of the bargain and we’ll be fine.

  As much as I’m trying to convince myself of that, however, I’m doing a terrible job.

  “Richman’s charity ball is this weekend,” Derek reminds me, getting back to business. “That’ll be your first big appearance, so you’ll have to be on your game.”

  I turn around and sit back down. “No problem. I already told Brianna. She’ll be stunning, we’ll get the obligatory pictures, and it’ll be even more official. Then all we have to do is coast.”

  Derek nods. “Should be as simple as that, right?”

  “Should be.”

  My intercom buzzes and my secretary’s voice comes over the speaker. “Miss Stevens is here to see you.”

  I straighten, and then press the button. “Send her in.”

  Derek grins but I shake my head. “Out.”

  “But—”

  “No. She’s not here to see you. Out.”

  Derek frowns, but his expression changes when he sees Brianna at the door. “Nice to see you again, Miss Stevens. You’ve been well, I hope.”

  He takes her hand, kisses it, and I don’t miss her blush. Jealousy rears up again. I walk to Brianna and take her arm, guiding her away from Derek and effectively dismissing him.

  “He’s really nice,” Brianna says as Derek vanishes.

  I make a noise of reluctant approval. Sure Derek’s nice. And smart. And handsome—if you believe the ladies. But he’s also as horny as they come. Not Brianna’s type.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  She glances around, taking in my office. My intercom buzzes again and my secretary says, “Your next appointment is here.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Brown.”

  Brianna clasps her hands together in front of her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come—”

  “It’s fine. They’re early. I thought you were at work.”

  “So…” She sits on the couch in the corner and crosses her legs. She’s wearing her simple skinny jeans and a blouse today, but she looks as good to me as when I first saw her. Maybe more so. “I was at work. But then this guy from the newspaper came in—and one from a magazine. And—and there were people with cameras—”

  “Shit.” I sit on the arm of the couch. “I didn’t think they’d come at you so fast. That was my fault. I should have sent security with you. And talked with your boss. It won’t be a problem next time.”

  She swallows and her face falls. “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time.”

  I sit next to her on the couch, keeping my hands from her even though I want to touch her. To comfort. Something’s clearly wrong.

  Ms. Brown buzzes in. “Phone call from Linus Everly.”

  Brianna moves as if to stand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

  I reach out and grip her arm, keeping her from moving. With a quiet snap in my voice, I tell Ms. Brown, “Take a message. And hold my calls for the next ten minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Brianna’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. This was a bad idea—”

  “Stop. You’re welcome to come here whenever you need to.”

  She shakes her head. “Michael…you don’t have to do this. You’re being so nice. It’s not your responsibility—”

  “You’re my fiancée.”

  “It’s not real.” She sighs. “I mean, I’m taking this seriously, don’t get me wrong. But we barely know each other. We’re not engaged.”

  My jaw clenches. How do I explain this to her? We may be almost strangers, but she’s helping me as much as I’m helping her. And I’m a good judge of character—Brianna’s one of the good ones. She’d help anyone she could, she’s loyal, and she’s trying to do the best with the hand life dealt her. All of that, and the unexpected feelings that are blooming inside, make me want to be there for her. Protect her. Fix things for her.

  “For the next year,” I say calmly, “you’re mine. I’ll help take care of you, I’ll be there for you whenever you need it, and I sure as hell will make sure no one is screwing you over. Does that make sense?”

  “I’m yours?” she says, amusement flitting across her face.

  “We signed a contract. I’m yours, you’re mine. Plain and simple.”

  She drops her chin, then nods. “You’re right. I want to be here for you, too.”

  “Then tell me. What happened with your job?”

  “With all those people there, my boss suggested I might want to take some time off. Indefinitely.”

  “He fired you?” I bite out, standing.

  “Not really—”

  “Motherfucker.”

  “Michael.” Brianna stands as well, holding her hands up like she’s talking to a wild animal. “It wasn’t that bad, but I just…I really shouldn’t have come here.”

  I face her again, trying to control my temper. “I’ll go down there right now. He’ll lose his job—no question. And if you want your job back—no, even better. You can be the new boss. And—”

  “Oh, God, no,” she says stepping in front of me. “Don’t do that. Don’t go down there.”

  “He has it coming. Firing you for something that isn’t your fault. Asshole.”

  “Wait.” She sets her hands on my chest, and the motion stops me cold. Banishes my anger and turns it into something else. Heat. Need. Longing. “I was thinking…”

  I hold completely still, afraid she’ll pull away. “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking maybe I could take you up on your offer. Stop working at the coffee shop—or—or anywhere else and focus on graphic design. Building my company. If that’s still okay.”

  I reach up and grab both her hands, holding them to my chest. “That’s still okay. I want you to follow your dream.”

  Her eyes locked on mine. “This is the first time anyone has even cared.”

  “Like I said, you’re mine. We’re in this together.”

  Her lips part. There’s not just gratitude in her eyes. There’s lust. Amazement. Heat. My eyes drop to her mouth.

  My intercom buzzes. “Sorry, Mr. Parsons. It’s time for your appointment.”

  Her words break the moment. Brianna steps back so we’re neutral again. Just a man and a woman. And I find that now more than ever, I don’t just want this to be about business.

  I want Brianna. Plain and simple.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Brianna

  I t’s almost like living alone—back in my apartment. It’s quiet, there’s hardly anyone in and out all day except for the maid. Michael works so much, he might as well live in his office. We’re barely roommates. It sounds ideal—and I have to admit, I’m getting a ton of work done.

  But it’s also kind of lonely.

 
I miss being around people. After our almost kiss in his office, I’ve been thinking about Michael non-stop. I can smell his cologne around the house. I see reminders of him everywhere. Is this what it would have been like to be married to Chet?

  I set my laptop aside and stand from the couch, stretching. Why the hell am I thinking about Chet? He so, so far out of my life it’s not even funny. What is funny, though, is how I don’t have feelings for him anymore. No, wait—that’s not true. I’m still angry with him, and I’m still pissed off that he led me on. But love? It’s gone. Once I found out what kind of person he is, I lost all that love for him. And I’m glad it’s gone.

  One day I’ll be able to start over. One day I’ll find love again—I really believe that.

  When the elevator dings and I hear Michael’s voice, my stomach jumps. The same way it used to jump when Chet would call me. No way. I can’t be ready to start over again this soon.

  But my heart isn’t listening. Michael is kind, thoughtful—a bit of a workaholic, sure, but that’s what he’s used to. And sure, his temper can flare up quick, but that’s not a damning flaw. Especially when it’s because of his possessiveness over my well-being.

  I automatically reach up to straighten my hair, and then roll my eyes at myself. Who cares what I look like? Michael’s stuck with me regardless. But that doesn’t mean I want to look like a slob. He always looks so sharp in his business suits and ties. And here I am in my cut-off shorts, my hair in wild curls around my head because I didn’t tame it this morning.

  “I was hoping you’d be home,” Michael says when he spots me by the couch.

  “Don’t you mean, ‘Honey, I’m home’?”

  He grins and steps up to me, almost like this is normal. “Honey, I’m home.”

  He surprises me by giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. My heart pounds out of control. And it’s crazy how disappointed I am that he didn’t kiss me on the lips. Or maybe wrap his hand around my waist and pull me close so I can feel every hard line of his body.

  “I thought…” I try to focus. “Are you just home for lunch?”

  “No. I took the rest of the day off.”

  “But—you don’t ever do that.”

  He grins. “Sounds like you already know me pretty well.”

  Not as much as I’d like. To distract myself, I change the subject. I point to my laptop. “I was just working. Making a website.”

  “On that?”

  “My laptop? Yes. A computer is required to make a website.”

  He rolls his eyes and lifts my laptop to examine it. “It’s…old.”

  “Hey—I had to work double shifts for a whole month to pay for it. Don’t disrespect the laptop.”

  He passes it back to me. “My bad. Let’s go out.”

  “Wait—what? You’re not going back to work?”

  “I told you, I took the rest of the day off. Let’s go to lunch. Go shopping.”

  “Shopping?” I wrinkle my nose. Sounds great to me, but Chet never wanted to shop with me.

  “You need a dress for the charity ball. In fact, you could use several dresses. There are going to be plenty more functions coming up.”

  I look down at my clothes and then over at his. “I’m…totally underdressed.” Even for shopping.

  He starts toward his bedroom. “I’ll change.”

  “No—that’s not what I meant.”

  “I want you to be comfortable, Brianna. I’ll change. And if you don’t want to go shopping, I can have someone bring by some dresses.”

  “No. I want to.” I get on board quickly. Maybe I can pick up some new clothes, too. I have a little money in my savings account now that I don’t have to pay rent. I can get a few things. “I’ll change.”

  I walk off before he can say anything and duck into my room. It’s down the opposite hallway from his, completely separate. In fact, I’ve never even been in his. That’s part of our contract, that we have separate rooms. I’m not sure who initiated it, or maybe Derek did, but it was in the contract I signed.

  Why the hell am I thinking about this right now? Of course we have separate rooms. We’re a fake couple. Which means there’s no sharing rooms or sharing kisses…but God, I want him to kiss me.

  I should—no, I do—respect him for keeping his space. For being professional. But damn it, can’t he just break down once and yank me to him? Or does he just see me as another job?

  Time to remedy that. I find one of my summer dresses—one that shows a lot of leg—and pull my hair up since it’s hot outside. I find the perfect wedges, ones I bought when Deb and I went shopping sometime.

  I’m going to have to invite her up here. She knows the whole story, and amazingly enough she’s fine with it. She encouraged me to make a change, and this is part of that change. But she’s the only one who knows. My parents aren’t in the picture—for good reason—and I’m not close enough with anyone else to trust them with this.

  Unlike Michael, I’m practically a ghost. He’s already introduced me to his parents, some colleagues and half the staff at our apartment building. There are going to be dozens more at the charity ball as well.

  After I’m dressed, I wander back down the hallway, expecting to find Michael in the living room. Instead, I hear his voice down the opposite hallway. He’s talking with someone—probably on the phone. But I’m curious about this side of the house, and for some reason, I can’t help but walk that direction.

  I pass his office and don’t see him inside. When I reach the next doorway, I realize it’s his bedroom. I hear his voice before I see him, but when I do, I freeze.

  He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist, hair still wet, and phone to his ear. His eyes come up and lock on mine.

  I’m sorry, I mouth, abruptly turning in the opposite direction. Damn. I’d invaded his private space. And now all I can see in my head is the image of his chest. Rock hard pecks, toned abs, that sexy V that dips down into his towel and has my mouth watering.

  That’s one thing I hadn’t thought about when I’d signed the contract. I’m with Michael and no one else for an entire year, which means no sex. Unless…

  Unless we have sex together.

  I squeeze my thighs together, imagining how thick his cock is. How good it’d feel to have him slide it all the way inside of me, to pump hard against my hips until I lose myself in ecstasy.

  I need a drink. Shopping will work, too. Somewhere out of the house with my brain focused on something else so I don’t keep picturing him naked.

  When Michael appears again, dressed in dark jeans and a T-shirt, I apologize immediately. “I should have stayed on my side of the house. I didn’t even think—”

  “Your side of the house?” He chuckles. “This whole house is yours.”

  “I mean—I meant your bedroom. That’s your space…”

  He steps up to me, blue eyes serious. “Do you want it to be?”

  My throat dries. “What?”

  “I mean, do you want it to be my space? There’s something happening here…” His thumb brushes my mouth, pulling down my bottom lip. “Can you feel it?”

  Feel it? I’m feeling everything right now, but especially incessant throbbing between my legs that I know I can’t do anything about.

  “We’re doing the right thing,” I whisper, nodding my head, though I’m lying through my teeth. Who knows what the right thing is? “Helping each other and—and being professional.”

  “And what if I don’t want to be professional?”

  His hand slides down my arm and his fingers splay on my hip. My panties are getting wet, but even so, I keep lying. I have to protect myself.

  “That’s the agreement, right?”

  His jaw shifts. “There was nothing in that contract that said there couldn’t be more.”

  My breath catches. He’s right. I want more—so badly. Right now, I want it all. But I force myself to step back. I’d wanted more with Chet, and look what had happened. We’d dated for two months, moved in togethe
r, and got engaged in four months. It happened too fast and I needed to learn my lesson.

  “I remember the contract,” I tell him in a dismissive tone, and point to the elevator. “You ready to go?”

  His breath releases but I don’t see any other evidence of disappointment. Good. He knows this is for the best.

  Michael steps back as well and heads to the elevator. “I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Michael

  Y esterday, it took the elevator ride and the car ride to the restaurant for my hard-on to fade completely, but it pissed me off that I’d had to will it to go away. I wanted to act on it. I wanted to yank Brianna into my arms back at the apartment, and kiss her until she was whimpering. Then I’d take her to my room and undress her nice and slow before spreading her legs and fucking her with my tongue.

  She wanted me. I’d seen it in her eyes. But she’d still backed off.

  So I’d take my time. I’d woo her, I’d make her see I wasn’t her asshole ex-fiancé, and then maybe she’d start to trust me.

  The charity ball is tonight. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Mostly for Brianna. I know it’s going to be a lot for her to handle. Most of my colleagues will be there, my sister will be there, and there are going to be lots of cameras. And questions.

  She’ll have to be on her game. I’m not worried about her sticking to the script—I’m worried she won’t be convincing about how much she loves me. Or how much she’s supposed to love me.

  After all, we still don’t know each other all that well.

  I’m putting on my cuff links when she appears in the living room. All the blood in my head shoots to my groin. Holy hell.

  “You…” I clear my throat and try again. “You look beautiful.”

  The dress is red satin, pooling on the floor at her feet. There’s a long slit up the side, and the amount of leg it shows makes my dick throb with need. Her hair is piled up high on her head, exposing her long neck, inviting me to drop kisses there. Everywhere.