Faking It

by Diane Albert

  She fingered the chain carefully, fighting back a choking panic. This was all too much. Too much money. Too much…everything. She would have been happy with the note and Chinese takeout. “Oh,” she said thickly. “It’s…nice.”

  Her mother frowned. “…you’re about to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

  “How can I not? He’s…he’s ridiculously rich. Unrealistically rich. I’m down to about three dollars, and that’s only if my paycheck clears before the rent check. He could have anyone in the world.” She slid heavily off the bed and thudded down on her butt on the floor. “Why does he want me, of all people?”

  Her mother sat down on the floor next to her, shoulder to shoulder. Her blond curls were a disarrayed mess as always, and one tickled Stephanie’s cheek like a kiss. “The heart doesn’t care about money or apartments or clothing. And neither should you.” She patted Stephanie’s hand, her fingers warm and weathered and so reassuringly familiar when her life felt more strange by the day. “You’ve worked hard, sweetheart. And you’ve had to fight for so much. In ten minutes, a darling young man will be here to show you the night of your life. Let yourself have at least that much. Revel in it, Stephanie. Some people never get the chance.”

  Stephanie smiled through a freshet of new tears. “Mom…” She pulled her mother into a tight hug, fingers clenching against her back. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “Now, now, none of that.” Her mother gave her a little pat. “Up off the floor with you. Let’s get you dressed, and do something with that hair.”

  With her mother’s help, she was dressed and ready with two minutes to spare. Her mother tucked a curl behind her ear and smiled.

  “You look lovely,” she said. “Don’t worry about anything tonight, dearest. Don’t think about anything but you and him.”

  Her mother let herself out, leaving Stephanie alone with her racing nerves. Thank God she hadn’t eaten, or she might throw up.

  A knock at the door had her nearly screaming. She had to calm down. It was only Derek. She took a deep breath and answered the door—and forgot how to breathe.

  His tall frame filled the doorway, elegant in a formal black tuxedo, his hair still slightly damp and curling in a touchable tangle of black. He looked like he’d stepped right out of her favorite show, Downton Abbey. He should be in that castle, with hundreds of servants waiting on him. She was more of a kitchen wench, good enough only to slave over his meals, not even fit to dine with the other servants.

  “You’re more beautiful than I’d even imagined,” he said, and captured her hand, bringing it to his lips. His mouth left a hot trail on her skin. A careless dusting of stubble teased her, more rakishly sexy than his usual clean-shaven perfection. “You grace me with your presence.”

  She could barely speak. She felt dizzy, weak, swept away on a sudden tide of emotion. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

  “Don’t thank me. I wanted tonight to be perfect.”

  Her stomach twisted into nervous knots. “I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

  Derek burst into husky, rumbling laughter. She couldn’t help but smile. She loved his laugh so much. “I was going more for Cinderella than Pretty Woman,” he said.

  “Pretty Woman is just a modern Cinderella retelling. Don’t you read Rotten Tomatoes?”

  “I wasn’t aware one could read rotten fruit.” He offered his arm. “And Cinderella isn’t a prostitute.”

  She chuckled and took his arm. “Technicalities.”

  He escorted her down the stairs. She took every step with infinite care. Cinderella had lost her shoe. Stephanie would probably snap her own foot off at the ankle and fall six stories to her death.

  At the first floor landing, he paused, his gaze falling to her necklace. “Everything fit?”

  “Perfectly.” She tucked against him with a sigh. If she had her way, she’d crawl into his arms and purr. “I can’t believe you shanghaied my mother and Aaron into helping you. Aaron hates shopping.”

  He held the door for her, his slightly crooked nose wrinkled. “I sold my soul for an unnamed favor.”

  “Good luck with that one. He’s merciless about favors.”

  “I have firsthand experience with that, believe me.”

  She stared at him. “And you did it anyway?”

  “Worth it,” he said, and led her outside.

  A gleaming black stretch limousine waited on the curb, entirely out of place in Stephanie’s urban neighborhood. She stopped and stared. “You’re kidding me.”

  He looked entirely too pleased with himself. “I don’t do things by halves.”

  A chauffeur opened the door for them, then shut it once they were settled inside. Stephanie felt like a child, staring wide-eyed around the interior. She’d never been in a limo before. She almost felt like she didn’t belong anywhere near the opulent upholstery and fine wood paneling.

  “This is nice,” she said. “Almost too nice.”

  He watched her intently. “The amount on the price tag doesn’t make a difference, bella. There are no expectations tonight, other than that you are you and I am me.”

  She smiled nervously. What if the Stephanie that Derek saw tonight wasn’t enough?

  Or what if he turned out to be too much?

  He traced his fingers down her jawline. “Relax.”

  “I’m trying. I promise, I am.”

  The limo stopped. She peeked out the window. “That was fast. Where are we?”

  “My hotel.”

  “You dressed me up to bring me back to your hotel? Are you sure I’m Cinderella, not Julia?”

  The chauffeur opened the limo door. Derek stepped out, then offered her his hand. “Every inch my Cinderella. I didn’t bring you here for sex.”

  “I might almost be disappointed,” she said with a slow smile.

  Heat flared in his eyes. He handed her out of the car and pulled her close against him. “That doesn’t mean I’m not open to suggestions.”

  “Down, boy.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “I’d like to see what else you have planned.”

  “Plans change,” he growled, but withdrew and offered his arm. It was so courtly, so outdated, but that was why she loved it. It was part of what made Derek so very Derek.

  He led her into the hotel lobby. The glitter and shine of polished marble and even more polished people nearly blinded her. Everything was all gilt edges and dark, rich colors. People streamed, in groups and pairs, toward a set of double doors. Above the doors a banner announced a charity ball. She bit back her smile. How like Derek to make even their date for a worthy cause, just because he knew how she felt about such things. But it was like her business meetings all over again. Every single person here could spend her entire salary on a single meal. She didn’t belong here.

  But he did.

  She forced a smile. “It looks lovely.”

  “It does. But I think I’ll pass.”

  “What?” She looked up at him. He was back to that odd not-smile again, restrained and secretive. “Then why are we here…?”

  “I think I’d rather spend the evening in my room after all. Just you, me, and a few greasy cheeseburgers. I’m in no mood for stuck-up socialites and three hundred dollar steaks.”

  Her eyes widened. “But the dress—your tux—”

  “Are both appropriate attire for sitting on the floor in front of the TV.” He grinned then, and it lit up his eyes in a way she’d never seen. “I want to make you feel special, Stephanie. Not force you to sit through an uncomfortable evening somewhere where you don’t want to be.”

  Realization clicked. “You planned this all along, didn’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” He led her to the elevator and pushed the button. “I paid for our place settings already. It’s a worthy cause. But I’d rather not add to the excess wasted on these kinds of functions, when I’d rather have you to myself.”

  He was insane. He was outrageous. He was an idiot…
r />   …and he was absolutely perfect.

  He really did know her too well—and she finally relaxed, content to lean against him as they stepped into the elevator. He pushed the button for the fourteenth floor. The moment the polished enamel doors closed, she snared her fingers in the lapels of his tux and pulled his body flush against hers. He leaned into her until the cold metal of the elevator wall made her shiver almost as much as the way he was looking at her.

  “You, Derek Rory, are a very smart man,” she murmured.

  He growled low in his throat. His mouth seized hers. His hands dug into her hair and cradled her scalp. He plundered her lips, slipping his tongue inside when she gasped. She dragged him closer, moaning into his mouth.

  Heat pooled between her thighs. A vicious need dominated her—the need to have him. To be possessed by him. His kiss surged deeper, breathlessly so, and he pulled her against the hard pressure of his hips. She tangled her legs around him, opening herself to him, and he fit his body to hers and moved against her until she burned.

  He kissed a trail to her ear, then nibbled the lobe. “I want you to be mine. Say yes.”

  What was he asking her for? Tonight, or more? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. Right now, she could have him. Right now she could be his. “Derek…” She gasped for air, flushing deep, her lips tingling and pulsing. “Yes,” she said. “Yes. I’m yours.”

  She’d never been more certain of anything in her life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The elevator door opened and Derek swept her into his arms. He couldn’t wait for her to walk; he needed her now. He carried her to his room, opening the door with ease. Once he kicked it shut behind them, he set her down on her feet. He felt like an animal, moments away from ravaging her—a lack of control that unnerved him, yet he didn’t care. Not right now. Not when he had to have her. She was intoxicating in the snug dress that left those kissable shoulders bare and pushed him to madness with the exposed slope of her pretty throat. The sight made him want to kiss and lick and bite until he left a mark that said she was his.

  Slow. He had to take it slow. He couldn’t stand it if he scared her away now.

  He took a calming breath and tried to focus on something mundane. “Shall we order dinner?”

  “No,” she said fiercely.

  He lifted a brow. “Would you rather—”

  “I don’t want food. I only want you.”

  She slid her hand into his. The soft touch of her palm, so small against his, sent shivers through him. He closed his fingers around hers, their gazes locked. He toyed with the bodice of her dress, tracing his fingertip along the scalloped edges. He didn’t miss her shiver, or the quickening of her breath. Before this night was over, he would have her.

  “You have me,” he murmured, drawing closer. He couldn’t resist. She was like gravity, pulling him in. “I’m all yours.”

  “Then shut up and kiss me,” she breathed.

  He leaned down and captured her lips, his hands tightening on her. She tasted better than humanly possible. His eyes drifted shut, and she moaned a little breathy sound. Such a small thing, but it snapped his precarious hold on control.

  He needed to hear that sound again, now. He pressed closer and touched her tongue with his, his hands drifting down to her hips. He didn’t think he could slow down. Not with her. He felt like he had waited his whole life for this one woman. This one moment—and now that it was here, he couldn’t hold back.

  He backed her through the suite and into the bedroom, undressing her as he ravished her mouth. The soft sound of her dress opening was the only noise in the room. He reached the bottom of the zipper, his fingers caressing the supple skin at the small of her back. She made that little sound again, and he trailed his fingers up her arms, pulling the dress off. It slid down to her feet, whispering satin against skin, and pooled on the carpet.

  He stepped back and looked his fill, lingering on her black bra and matching panties. “Jesus.”

  She flushed, stepped closer, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket. Her fingers brushed against his skin as she slowly undid his shirt, baring his chest. She raked her nails over his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath, then traced the tattoo arcing below his collarbones.

  “Will you finally tell me what this says?”

  “Protect your heart,” he murmured. If the tattoo was aimed toward anyone in particular, it was this woman. She could destroy him, if he let her—but he was afraid she already had.

  She raised her eyes to his. “That’s kind of sad.”

  “Not sad. Just truth.”

  When she licked her lips and made as if to speak, he crushed her mouth beneath his. He couldn’t listen to her tell him how wrong he was. Not now. Not when in this moment, he would give anything she asked, and damn the consequences.

  She whimpered. He released his hold on her chin. Was he being too rough with her? He pulled back, taking in her flushed face, her parted, lusciously panting lips. She looked like she might catch fire from the heat in her gaze—and he needed more of her. Now.

  She leaned up on tiptoes, gently pushed the open shirt over his shoulders, and let the garment fall to the ground. Her lips pressed to his. He deepened the kiss, tilting her head back until she went lax in surrender, his fingers teasing into her cool, soft hair until the pins came loose and it wrapped around his fingers in a glorious tangle. Her hands worked at the buttons on his trousers, and her palm brushed his arousal, sparking a fire that he thought might never be quenched.

  He picked her up and laid her gently in the middle of his neatly made bed, then stepped out of his pants and boxers. Her gaze dropped below his waist, and she bit her bottom lip. He forced himself to stand still, letting her look. She made a little noise in the back of her throat and opened her arms for him. It was the most beautiful, most erotic thing he’d ever seen. Laying there almost naked, her eyes hot as molten silver, her shimmering mahogany hair tumbling around her in a wild river, and her arms open for him.

  He lowered himself over her, his mouth crashing into hers. Her soft skin pressed against him, teasing his senses. He nearly tore at her bra, then tossed it to the side. He teased her nipples with his thumbs, cupping the weight of her breasts in his palms and savoring every moment as the rose-pink buds tightened and roused.

  She arched her back with a gasping moan and sucked on his lower lip gently. He pulled free of her hold and slid down her body, his mouth closing over her nipple. She cried out and buried her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. His impatience to have her, all of her, tugged insistently at him and demanded he move faster.

  He groaned and sucked harder, tongue teasing against the sweetly textured skin in hot circles, his hand moving down her abdomen and removing her panties. She arched her hips as he pulled them off, baring the rest of her body to his touch. His fingers slid over her soft curls, seeking her moist heat. He slid his finger inside of her and shuddered when she clenched, rising up to meet him with a whimper so sensuous it washed over him like liquid silk. She was tight and hot and ready.

  And his.

  He sat back and lifted her hips, his eyes meeting hers. She bit her lip, her lids drifting shut, and he touched his tongue to her heat. She rocked against his mouth, moaning and tugging at his hair. His cock ached to be inside of her, but the warm, sweet taste of her drew him deeper, and he caressed her in long strokes, lingering to tease along the fluttering edges of her damp entrance, until she was writhing in a frenzy. She moaned and tensed, her hands falling to grip the sheets desperately. Still he didn’t cease until she climaxed, arching with a mewling cry, then went limp in his hands.

  He lowered himself over her, nestled between her legs. He could still taste her intoxicating essence on his tongue, making him hunger for more.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him, her hands cradling his face. She kissed him sweetly, her tongue touching his, sharing her taste between them
. He surged inside of her, burying himself where he had longed to be since the moment he saw her.

  It was like plunging into an inferno. She surrounded him with molten fire, enveloping him in the ferocity of their need. He bit back a groan, struggling to breathe, struggling not to hold her down and just take from the very first slow, claiming thrust that made her his. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips, opening herself to him completely. Her nails raked over his back as he quickened his tempo, her breath coming in little bursts. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling insistently.

  He thrust quicker, harder, until finally she came again, her body tightening around him in waves of silken wet heat, and he joined her with a taut burst of pleasure so savage it bordered on the primitive. Shuddering, he fell atop her, supporting his weight so that he didn’t crush her. She clung to him tight, her own breathing ragged and out of control.

  When he felt less exposed and raw, he leaned back and met her eyes, searching. Wondering. Wondering if she had felt what he had, something raw and so real it stripped away the lies to leave only the truth. Their truth.

  He shook his head. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m more than all right. I’m great.” She smiled and trailed her fingers over his back, inching around his sides until she caressed his abs. His still hard cock twitched. “You were amazing.”

  He chuckled, still struggling to catch his breath. “Part of my programming.”

  “I don’t think that’s part of the standard T-1000 software package.” She rolled off the bed and looked down at him, gloriously naked, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her skin still flushed with pleasure, her nipples reddened from his tormenting mouth. He itched to touch her again. To keep touching her until he had his fill. “Ready for those burgers now? I’m famished.”

  “Me too.” He rose and slipped back into his pants. He watched her as she slid her dress back on—but didn’t bother with her underwear or bra. He burned at the thought of her naked beneath the gown.

  Once they were both dressed, he ordered two bacon cheeseburgers and their finest champagne. After room service arrived, they claimed comfortable spots on the floor, put the second Silent Hill movie on pay-per-view, and drank champagne from paper cups while they watched the film and ate their burgers. Stephanie stared at the screen with wide eyes, occasionally letting out a little squeak or hiding her face against his arm. He only bit back his smile and used the chance to slide his arm around her shoulder. He didn’t have a My Little Pony night light in his bedroom, but he hoped she would take him as an acceptable substitute.