Secrets Abroad: A Fake Fiancée Romance

by D. G. Whiskey

“Of course,” I murmured. “Wouldn’t want to tip him off.”

  The entire concept was laughable because kissing Dylan was the most natural thing I’d ever done.

  As soon as his lips touched mine, I was right back where he’d taken me earlier that day by the pool, consumed by my desire for him, passions stoked by his careful seduction of my mind and body. With sure hands, he palmed my ass and pulled me against his hard body, pressing me into him so fiercely that it seemed certain we would meld into one at any moment.

  I would let him do anything to me, and he must have been able to tell. As his tongue flirted with mine, one of his hands slid down my front, reaching under my dress to brush against my inner thigh.

  My sense of caution disappeared, mangled and thrown off the terrace by the way Dylan had danced with me. All I wanted was for him to take me in any way he wanted, to drive our pleasure in the way I knew he could. With a moan deep in my throat, I spread my legs for him.

  Dylan stroked the outside of my panties with a long finger, teasing me through the fabric, stealing my breath away. I had to break off the kiss to throw my head back and concentrate on the feeling. That single touch was more intense than the last time I’d had sex. I’d never been so turned on in my life, never been so wet.

  My mouth no longer available, Dylan latched onto my neck with his lips as he pulled my panties to the side. As good as his finger had felt on the outside, the way he brushed against my pussy drove me wild. He only teased me for a few moments before sinking a finger inside me and in the same motion, pressing the heel of his palm against my clit.

  “Oh, God,” I said in a breathless whisper. “Dylan, that feels so good.”

  “Good. I want you to take it all and feel every bit of me. You’re so wet for me, and I will reward you.” His voice was as polished as ever in my ear, the rich tones playing with the words as his hand played with me.

  His technique was flawless, as if he’d gone to college to learn how my body worked. It took an embarrassingly short time for him to bring my pleasure to an intense peak. My hands around his shoulders and his arm around my waist were the only things keeping me on my feet as my legs gave out, unable to support me any longer.

  “Yes, Dylan,” I cried, shaking in his arms as waves of pleasure swept through me.

  Dylan stilled his hand and let me recover, holding me as my vision slowly returned.

  “Damn,” I said. “I don’t know the last time I came while standing.”

  He grinned. “I don’t know if it counts if I was holding you up.”

  Now that the orgasm had cleared my mind a little, apprehension edged in.

  I shouldn’t have let this happen. It’s too much, too soon. And it’s too strange to be paid to act as his fiancée and to sleep with him.

  “Dylan, I… I don’t think we should do anything more. I shouldn’t have let you do that.”

  I braced myself for the inevitable storm of anger. Any man who’d done such a service would expect something in return. And I wouldn’t blame him, but I just couldn’t.

  I’d regained my footing, and Dylan brought his finger to his mouth, sucking it clean as he stared into my eyes.

  Oh, my.

  The simple action had me torn, wanting to immediately renege on pumping the brakes. His voice rolled forth in a deep groan.

  “Thank you for dessert, Penny. We have to meet Charles on the yacht early tomorrow morning. You’ll want a good night’s sleep to make sure you’re on top of your game.”

  “What? Tomorrow morning?” I couldn’t believe it. Our questioning over dinner had been so casual, and that’s all I had to go on before meeting this mysterious business partner of Dylan’s? “I’m not ready!”

  The left side of his mouth lifted in a wry smile and he shrugged. “I’m afraid there’s not much we can do about that at this point. You’ll do fine, Penny. I know you will. Just trust in yourself.”

  As if that’s the easiest thing to do.

  Chapter Eight

  Dylan

  “So, Penny, tell me how you’re able to put up with the way Dylan steamrolls over anyone who has a different opinion from him. It must be frustrating whenever you make decisions together.”

  She looked at me with raised eyebrows and turned back to Charles, speaking in a stage whisper. “Well, Charles, I shouldn’t go too into details, but I have a system of rewards and punishments that his business partners don’t. I’m sure Sandra knows what I’m talking about.”

  Charles’s wife was a distinguished woman in her fifties who sat straight-backed in her chair and sipped her tea with precise movements. Despite the rigidity of pose, her face was open and warm. Penny’s statement prompted a smile. “Oh, Penny, you’re bad. Of course I know what you’re talking about.”

  If she keeps this up, Penny will have Charles and Sandra charmed before we even cast off from the pier.

  It was incredible how comfortable Penny was bantering with people who’d been raised in the elite upper stratum of society. It had taken me years of dealings and encounters before I could get over the sheer privilege and wealth these people had been wielding since they were in diapers.

  The secret, as far as I could tell, was that Penny just didn’t let those thoughts take root in her mind and choke out her native wit. Instead of trying to measure up and be perfect, she let herself be who she was without concern for what they thought of her.

  I had always been an astute judge of character. It was what had allowed me to dominate business dealings to such great success over the years. Penny proved me correct once more.

  The thing I didn’t predict was how attractive her attitude would be.

  She was magnificent in isolation, but my respect for her grew even greater seeing her wind the Wiltons around her finger. We sat side-by-side, and my hand rested on her thigh in a familiar manner. It took all of my energy to resist sliding it up her smooth skin and expressing the desire pumping through me at being so close.

  “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to get one of Penny’s rewards,” I said, leaning over to taste her lips. It was meant to be a lighthearted kiss, the kind a couple wouldn’t be shy about sharing in front of others, but her pliant lips against mine sent a surge of heat through my body. My hand gripped her thigh as I plunged into her, not satisfied until I felt the small moan deep in her throat that told me she was as helpless as I was.

  When I broke off the kiss, it was to find Charles and Sandra exchanging a look.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. It hadn’t been that long of a kiss, or too extravagant, but it betrayed the depths of the flame that burned inside my chest. “Penny is irresistible to me.”

  Charles coughed. “I can see that.”

  “Tell me how you two met,” Sandra said. “I’m not judging, because I think it’s great, but it’s rare that two people so… different… meet each other and fall in love.”

  The L-word shouldn’t have given me pause, but I faltered, caught off-guard in the midst of formulating a response. We hadn’t discussed the possibility of this question last night—a serious oversight. I didn’t know what to say.

  It’s all pretend anyway. Nothing’s real. Just hurry up and say something!

  The problem was that the chemistry between us was very real, and I could see answering this question a year from now with my arm around Penny, laughing about the unorthodox way we got together. I was frozen at the thought of that future.

  Luckily, Penny took up the answer with no hesitation.

  “By different, you mean how Dylan’s rich and I’m very much not? I have to agree with you there. In fact, that story couldn’t do a better job of highlighting that difference. The short version is that I was minding my own business and Dylan almost hit me with his Ferrari because he wasn’t watching where he was going.”

  She elbowed me in the arm and smiled to take the bite out of the accusation. It was my turn to add to the story.

  “Hey,” I said. “It’s not my fault you walked out in front of my car without
making sure I was stopping. I know you had the walk sign, but the visibility on that corner was awful. Am I supposed to see through walls?”

  “I’ll settle for you paying attention, darling.” Penny picked the narrative back up. “Anyway, I had to jump back to avoid getting my shins cracked. Then I hit his Ferrari with my purse as I shouted at him.”

  I could almost picture this fictional event unfolding in front of me. It wasn’t hard to follow it through to its next logical step.

  “I got out of the car and asked if she’d really just hit a Ferrari with a knock-off Coach purse.”

  Penny smirked. “Then I asked him if he’d really just almost hit me with a car.”

  I am not coming out of this story looking particularly stellar. I wondered if Penny remembered that the whole point of her acting as my fiancée was to make me look good and reasonable in front of Charles.

  “I realized that I made a mistake, and I apologized and offered to take her to dinner.”

  Like a gentleman, I added mentally, hoping Penny would play along.

  “And of course, I was busy and had to get back to work, so I turned him down.” She looked at me with sparkling eyes.

  She’s enjoying this far too much.

  I glanced at Charles and Sandra. They were smiling and listening attentively. At least we were making an impression.

  “I felt so bad for almost hitting Penny that when she stormed off, I followed her in my car, crawling along with traffic building up behind me as I begged her to allow me to make amends.”

  Penny laid her hand on my face. “It was so sweet. Eventually, I said yes just to get the honking to stop. The rest is history.”

  Our guests laughed as Penny wrapped up the story, and she leaned in to give me a peck on the lips.

  “I have to say that almost hitting Penny was one of the best near-manslaughter mistakes I’ve ever made,” I said. “Wouldn’t you agree, babe?”

  Penny shrugged with a small smile. “I’m still on the fence. We’ll see.”

  I elbowed her back, and she stuck her tongue out at me before I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in for another kiss.

  The whole thing felt so natural, from the cooperative storytelling to the flirting and kissing, that it was hard to remember it was all fake. I could picture the event in my mind as if it was a real memory. Penny and I hadn’t met on the pier yesterday. It had been in Chicago months ago.

  “What a charming story!” Charles said. “And you two tell it together so well, I have to imagine that you’ve recounted it dozens of times by now.”

  “Something like that,” Penny said. The sparkle in her eyes was a permanent feature. “And I swear at least half of it is true, but you know how these things grow in the retelling.”

  I couldn’t believe she would even broach the idea of us not telling the truth, but Charles and Sandra thought nothing of it, laughing at Penny’s remark.

  “On that note, are we ready for a dive?” Charles asked. “If my reckoning is correct, we’ve just arrived at the reef.”

  Penny’s face went pale. “A dive? Like, a scuba dive? I didn’t know that’s what we were doing today.” She turned to me and clutched at my arm, eyes wide. “Dylan, I can’t swim!”

  Chapter Nine

  Penny

  My brain locked up under a flurry of images and thoughts. I knew the island was a diving hotspot, but I’d never intended to get anywhere close to a wetsuit. The only reason the yacht didn’t scare me was because it was so massive and stable that it barely even felt like a boat when sitting and chatting in the lounge.

  The choppy ferry ride to the island had been bad enough, but at least I knew paradise awaited on the other side if I could power through it.

  Under the ocean the pressure was intense, and there were sharks, and limited amounts of oxygen, and…

  I was babbling, and Dylan had drawn me into his arms, but that didn’t halt my hysteria. He took my face in his hands and shut me up by the simple expedient of kissing me.

  His lips cut off the unintelligible stream of words coming from my mouth and gave me something better and sweeter to concentrate on. The masterful press of his mouth drew me down, calming me in one fashion and firing me up in another. The world revolved around where we touched, and his strength wrapped around me.

  What was I so hung up about?

  When Dylan drew back, I stared at him, forgetting where I was until he spoke.

  “It’s okay, Penny. You don’t have to go in the water.”

  I shook from remembered terror but hung on to his words. “I don’t?”

  “No. You’d need training and a license to go out in the open water, which you don’t have. I should have told you before we came out here. Charles and I will dive to investigate reports of coral bleaching in the reef here, but you and Sandra can relax on the boat while we’re gone.”

  His melodic voice calmed me almost as much as the words did. The arms holding me tightly didn’t hurt.

  Getting my metaphorical legs underneath me once more, I chuckled ruefully. “Well, that might have been an overreaction, then. I’m sorry, everyone. Swimming is something that I have some issues about.”

  “It’s curious that you don’t even swim while diving is such a big hobby of Dylan’s,” Charles noted.

  “Penny has insisted on staying at her job, so we don’t get the chance to see each other as often as I’d like,” Dylan said. “I haven’t taken her out yet, but I’m planning on training her this week.”

  He looked at me, and I swallowed the fear that his words aroused. “I’m looking forward to sharing in Dylan’s hobby with him. It’ll take a lot of work, but it’ll be worth it.”

  Hell, if Dylan really loves it so much, it may be worth checking out.

  A deep-seated fear stretching back into early childhood would not be quenched so easily, so while the men changed into wetsuits and checked their equipment, I stayed far away from the edge of the water.

  “Enjoy yourself,” I told Dylan, and I kissed him before stepping back to watch him and Charles dive into the water.

  It was scary how natural it felt to act so familiar with him. I had never been comfortable with constant displays of affection even in the real relationships I’d been in, yet with Dylan, it was so easy.

  “They’ll be awhile,” Sandra said at my side. “Why don’t we go up and make ourselves comfortable?”

  The yacht had multiple seating areas, each with different decor and ambiance, from the interior, air-conditioned piano lounge to the elevated sun deck with a small pool. We opted for the sun deck and stretched out on cushioned lounge chairs with fresh drinks courtesy of the hostess.

  “Tell me, Penny, what pursuits do you enjoy in your spare time?”

  I wasn’t used to fielding questions about hobbies. So much of my time had been taken up with working that there wasn’t much left for anything else. “Um, I enjoy reading, but beyond that… it’s been a long time since I’ve had the time for it, but I used to love to crochet.”

  “Such a hard worker. You know, it’s easy to forget sometimes that so many people have to work hard to earn their daily bread. I think it’ll be good for Dylan to have you around as a reminder of where he came from.”

  Sandra spoke of the billionaire with more familiarity than I expected. She was Charles’s wife, and that’s the extent of what Dylan had told me. But he hadn’t even met Charles until yesterday.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sure you know that Dylan grew up in a trailer park—that’s part of his famous origin story and some of the reason the public is fascinated with him. It’s quite common for the newly rich to reject anything that reminds them of their upbringing. Always so desperate to be accepted by the old money.”

  Sandra’s manner of speech served as a reminder that she spoke of herself when she said “old money.” There was something important behind her words, and I tried to ask the right question to tease it out.

  “You don’t think they sho
uld do that, do you?”

  Sandra shook her head. “Many of the world’s problems can be traced to the gap between the rich and the poor. The situation isn’t helped by the mentality that once you become rich, it behooves you to oppress the poor so others can’t follow in your footsteps. It will only get worse as time goes on unless something major changes the stakes. That’s why I told Charles to accept the meeting with Dylan about his project.”

  I took a closer look at the other woman. She was lying back in her lounge chair, eyes closed as if we were discussing airy nothings.

  There’s more to Sandra than meets the eye.

  She wasn’t just a billionaire’s wife. And Charles wasn’t the only one who needed to be convinced. Maybe not even the most important one.

  “The project means so much to Dylan,” I said. I knew hardly anything about the details, but I knew that much was true. In fact, it was one of the few things I knew about Dylan Hunter. He was willing to pay me a quarter-million dollars in a gamble that having a fiancée would increase his chances of securing this deal.

  “I can tell your relationship is still new and fresh and in the head-over-heels phase. The intensity between you two is electric.” Sandra breathed a shallow sigh.

  “Do you and Charles not have that anymore?”

  The other woman waved her hand in a lazy motion. “It’s different when you get older. I love him more than ever, but the physical component doesn’t rely on raw sexuality. Seeing you together reminds me of how it used to be.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, but I would never not be intensely attracted to Dylan. I could feel it in my bones. All it would take is that intense look and a kiss and I would be ready and willing.

  Wait. This is all a farce, a fake engagement. We won’t even see each other beyond this week. I won’t be growing old with Dylan.

  The thought tightened my chest and squeezed my heart.

  Chapter Ten