Faking It
Page 17
“Wait.” Aaron looked over his shoulder and gestured to someone. “It’s a greenfield project, starting from scratch. No business politics or lies. A clean operation.”
“Not. Interested.”
He stepped around Aaron. He needed to get away now—but Aaron slid into his path.
“Sorry. Can’t let you leave just yet.”
“Move, Aaron.”
“No.”
“What kind of game are you playing?” Derek growled.
“No games,” Stephanie said. “Not this time.”
Derek closed his eyes. She was here. Right here, standing behind him, so close he could smell her. So close he could touch her—yet he couldn’t move. He had to force himself to turn. Force himself to face the woman he loved, staring at her like he was looking down the barrel of a loaded gun.
Her eyes were wet with tears, her hair was sticking up, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in years. She held a crumpled, battered piece of paper clutched in her fist as if she’d die without it. She was still in her cutoffs and tank top, her clothing disarrayed, her makeup a mess.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
“Stephanie?”
“I had to talk to you,” she said.
“I’m listening.” Yet he didn’t dare to hope, even when she looked up at him with her heart burning in her eyes.
“You are one of the kindest men I have ever met.” She took a deep breath. “You went out of your way to help me, even though I fought you at every turn. Even when I screamed at you.” She stepped closer and rested her hand over his heart. “I couldn’t let you go without…without thanking you for that.”
He forced a smile. It made his face feel like rubber. She’d come to thank him. Of course. “You’re welcome.” He withdrew his ticket from his pocket, his knuckles white against his skin. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.”
“…right.” She licked her lips, then shot Aaron a fierce look. “You can stop hovering now.”
“And miss the show?”
“Get. Out.”
Aaron just shrugged and walked away with a two-fingered wave. Stephanie made a huffy sound and stuffed the piece of paper into her pocket. Derek sighed.
“I have to go now.”
“No, you don’t. Your plane isn’t going anywhere. I made sure of that.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“Whatever I had to, to make sure I wouldn’t miss you.” She took a deep breath. “Derek, I…”
He fought back his frustration. “You’ve thanked me. You’re welcome. You don’t need to say anything else, Stephanie. I understand.”
“You really don’t.”
She licked her lips, stretched up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. Her slender arms slid around his neck. Desire flared instantly, but he made himself step back. He gently disentangled her arms from around his neck; he meant to let her go, but his fingers tightened involuntarily around her wrists, caressing the soft skin.
She swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Derek?”
“You don’t need to do this.” He forced himself to meet her eyes. Forced himself to keep his voice steady. “I appreciate the thanks, but you don’t need to pretend anymore.”
She stiffened. “I’m not pretending.”
“Then what do you want from me? I was under the impression that we were done. You said so quite emphatically.”
She flinched. “I know.”
He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t drag out the inevitable. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say here.”
“I was wrong.”
“Which time?”
“I shouldn’t have refused your help.” She sighed. “I should have seen that everything you did was because you cared. Not because you didn’t have faith in me. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. I shouldn’t have pushed you away—and I can’t let you leave now.”
“I have faith in you.” His grip on her wrists tightened, drawing her closer. “I wanted to be your partner. I wanted to be the one you came to for help when you were stuck. When you refused to let me help, I did it anyway. I hoped you would forgive me. I hoped I could make you see how I felt. I just…couldn’t stand there and watch you fall, when I had the ability to catch you.”
She ducked her head. “I know that now.”
“Stephanie.” He tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Do you understand what I’ve been trying to show you?”
“I think so.” Her lips trembled. “You love me.”
Hearing her say it unknotted something deep inside his chest. The words were like a scream inside him, aching to get out, desperate to escape the cage where he’d trapped them from the moment she’d looked into his eyes and laughed. “Yes. I love you. Even if you don’t feel—”
“I have a proposal for you,” she blurted out.
He blinked. “A proposal?”
She nodded and pulled the crumpled paper from her pocket. The card. The card he’d given her with the dress. As she offered it, her engagement ring sparkled in the cold fluorescent lights. She’d put it back on. His heart twisted.
“I know it’s not fancy,” she said with a shaky laugh, “but I’m currently homeless and didn’t have access to a printer.”
He took the card, flipped past his handwritten note, and turned it over. On the back, she’d written:
I’d like to ask you to be my partner. It’s a new project. A special one that will require us to work together, fifty/fifty. D.C. or Miami or the moon, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you. I can’t make this project work without a partner. I need your help. I need you.
I love you.
P.S. If you don’t agree, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. And throw tortilla chips at your head. My grandmother lived to be a hundred and one.
P.P.S. I still want my Batman wedding.
Derek closed his eyes. Heated emotion flowed through him without hesitation, without doubt, without hindrance.
She loved him.
He opened his eyes and drank in every detail. Her eyes. Her tears. The way she nibbled at her lower lip as she waited.
“Can you forgive me?” she asked.
“Only if you forgive me.” He gathered her into his arms—where she belonged. “I owe you so much, Stephanie. You made me realize the kind of man I want to be.”
“You’re already a man I admire.” She buried her face in his chest. “Please say yes,” she whispered. “Please. I know we can do this. Together, we can do anything.”
“Yes,” he said, and drew her up to claim what he’d been missing.
He kissed her until he could taste only her, picked her up until their bodies fit together so perfectly, so beautifully. She loved him. She loved him…and she was his.
She broke back for breath, gasping, her eyes glittering. “Don’t look now, but we’re being watched by the Feds.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Aaron was watching them with a terribly smug smile. “Did he really hold up my flight? Is that even legal?”
“Probably not,” she said. “I wouldn’t worry about that. The things I’m about to do to you are illegal in the continental forty-eight. C’mere.”
She pulled him down and kissed him again—deeply, hotly, with the promise of a boundless passion that would never be sated. He gave himself over to her. People were staring. Anyone could be watching. Aaron. His business associates. His father. He didn’t care. He was his own man, and that man belonged to Stephanie Miller—now, and always. No more lies. No more masks.
He loved her, and he wasn’t faking it anymore.
Epilogue
One year later
Damn it, it was going to rain again.
Stephanie hurried down the sidewalk. She was going to skewer that weatherman. One day she’d learn not to trust him. One day she’d learn to keep an umbrella in her purse, too.
That day wasn’t today. Son of a bitch.
Maybe her luck would hold until her lunch break was over. She just needed something to eat—and something to wake her up. Derek had kept her up late last night. While it did wonders for her mood, the effect on her work ethic was less than stellar. When her secretary had suggested she step out for some coffee, she’d jumped at the chance.
She stifled a yawn and sprinted at the crosswalk. She reached the shop right when the sky cracked open like a water balloon, and bolted inside just ahead of a torrential downpour. Phew. Shaking her head, she turned—and collided with pure muscle. Strong arms wrapped around her, catching her before she could fall.
“Forgot your umbrella again, love?” Derek asked, grinning.
She curled her hands into his shirt. “The weatherman said—”
“Dry and sunny?” He brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
“As always. Every day is opposite day with that man.”
“And what did I say this morning?”
“I think it was ‘get that sweet ass back in bed, bella.’”
He cleared his throat, his mouth twitching. “The other thing.”
“I don’t recall.” She did, but like hell she’d let him gloat about being right. So he’d suggested she bring an umbrella. With fifty/fifty odds of being right, he had to get one some time.
“Memory loss. A sure sign of caffeine withdrawal.” He guided her toward the line with a warm, rough hand at the small of her back. “Come on.”
She tucked herself comfortably against him and breathed in his scent. He looked good enough to eat, in ripped jeans and a casual T-shirt—a far cry from the man she’d met a year ago. His swarthy skin looked darker against the pale gray shirt…but for once she was almost as dark as he was, still tanned from a week sunning herself on the beaches of Puerto Rico. When he hadn’t been dragging her to museums and a half-dozen ruins and archaeological dig sites, that was.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “Thought I wouldn’t see you again until tonight.”
He raised her knuckles to his mouth and kissed her hand. His blue eyes roamed over her face, making her tremble. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. You know how tricky the paperwork is with non-profits. A million federal statutes to add an extra row of chairs in the lobby.”
“I know.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. You know how much this means to me.”
Once the ink was dry, they would be opening Miami’s first free urgent care clinic. It had taken a year of work, and more than a little frustration on both parts. But they’d done it. Together. They already had their next project lined up: a series of Latin cultural centers in both Florida and California, supporting Hispanic immigrants in integrating into their local communities.
He slipped an arm around her waist and hugged her tight. “We’ll be able to relax soon, and get back to real business.”
She peeked at him. “…like picking out wedding invitations?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “Like that. Your mother’s still fighting the bats, isn’t she?”
Stephanie pouted. “Yes. It’s not like I want to get married in a Batgirl costume.”
He raised a brow. “Tights, leotard…where’s the problem with that?”
“Pervert.” She slapped his chest with a laugh, then sighed. “I just hope Aaron will be home in time for the wedding.”
“He’ll make it. He loves you too much not to. Even if it means coming back in the middle of a covert mission.”
“I never want to know where he is. I worry too much.”
“…Kosovo.”
“I said I didn’t want to know!” She shoved him lightly. “Be careful, or I’ll leave you to fight my mother over doilies on your own.”
He grimaced. “No thanks. I’ll be hiding in the kitchen with your brothers.”
“Coward.”
“I prefer to call it self-preservation.”
“Are your friends coming?”
“Gray and Chris. Michael hasn’t answered my calls.” Their turn came, and he stepped up to the counter. “Your usual?”
“Mmhm.”
She leaned against him while he ordered their drinks. He always ordered for her, but she didn’t mind. He liked to take care of her. It didn’t make her soft, or helpless, to accept that.
Once he paid and they retrieved their drinks, they strolled to the door together and watched the rain through the glass. He glanced at her.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked. “You’re quiet.”
“The fact that I have thirty minutes left on my lunch break.”
“That’s not much time.”
“My partner’s a softie. He won’t mind if I show up late.” She looked up at him through her lashes.
He grinned and traced the neckline of her blouse. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“Race you to the car,” she said—and bolted out into the rain, shrieking with laughter as she ran toward the Jaguar he’d left parked on the curb.
She’d thought for a moment he wouldn’t follow…but then his laughter chased her, warming the chill of the rain soaking her clothing. She would never get tired of his laughter, never get tired of discovering the reckless spontaneity he’d been hiding for so long. She loved him like this, laughing and chasing her through the rain, as much as she loved him when he was grave and quiet, or tender and caring.
He caught her just as she reached the car, and tumbled her into the back seat. His strong body stretched out atop hers, and he fit against her with intimate, skin-shivering familiarity. The thin layers of drenched fabric did nothing to conceal his heat, and she arched up against him.
“Really, Mr. Rory,” she purred. “In the back of your car?”
“Tinted windows,” he said, and leaned down to lick the sheen of water from her throat, making her gasp. “It’ll be our secret.”
He kissed her, stole her senses, swept her deep into the passion that only he could evoke. He laced their fingers together, pinning her wrists against the upholstery. His touch grazed her engagement ring, and she tightened her grip. She loved that ring. It was how he’d first told her he loved her, without a single word. How he’d first shown her his feelings had been real from the very start.
And as she wrapped her legs around him, as she took him deep and cried out his name, she gave a silent promise: she would show him her love in every kiss and every touch.
Every day for the rest of their lives.
Acknowledgments
This book would not be here now if not for the hard work of my superhero editor, Adrien-Luc Sanders. You have taught me more than you’ll ever know. You’re more than an editor, you’re a friend. And I’ll never, ever forget all you’ve done for me. I wish you nothing but happiness and great success in life—you deserve it.
And special thanks go out to Alethea and the rest of the Indulgence team. Thanks for providing the input needed to make Faking It shine like a penny.
Angie Marshall, you do not know how wonderful you are for helping me by reading this book literally as I wrote it in the short time I gave you. I know I can count on you, no matter what I need, and you’ve been there since the beginning of my career. I’ll never be able to express just how much I appreciate you, but hopefully this is a start.
To my family, as always, thank you for all of your support and love. I know I disappear from the world sometimes when I’m on deadline, especially with this book, and you all took it in stride. I love you.
Thanks to Entangled Publishing, and all of the authors there, for the support, love, and guidance. You all rock.
A special shout out to my partner in crime, who was cramming in mad word count right along beside me w
hile I wrote this book. Christine Bell, you rock!
To my readers, bloggers and fans—I love you all!
About the Author
Diane Alberts has always been a dreamer with a vivid imagination, but it wasn’t until 2011 that she put her pen where her brain was, and became a published author. Since receiving her first contract offer, she has yet to stop writing. Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal clear water. She lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her four kids, a husband, a cat, and a Senegal parrot. In the rare moments when she’s not writing, she can usually be found hunched over one knitting project or another.
She is a multi-published, bestselling author with Entangled Publishing, Swoon Romance, and Decadent Publishing. She has, as of this date, four books with Entangled Publishing, one book with Swoon Romance, and five older books with Decadent Publishing. Her February release with Entangled Publishing, ON ONE CONDITION, hit #18 on the Barnes and Noble Bestseller List, and TRY ME, hit #76 on Amazon. She is represented by Louise Fury from the L. Perkins Agency.
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