A smile played across her lips and she shook her head. Then she looked at him again and their eyes met. There was a mystical quality in her gaze that he never saw in another woman. Usually a date would look at him with dollar signs in her eyes, but with this woman it was different. Ginger seemed to look straight into his soul, as if she measured and gauged everything there. Suddenly he felt like he never wanted to come up short in her estimation.
It was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling. Aside from his father, he didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He discarded his unfamiliar reaction immediately as a side effect of his crazy day.
Still, lunch came and went, while they chatted. It was easy to talk to her. She followed his stories with real enthusiasm, and she laughed at the really funny parts, not just the things other girls did because they thought they should. And he learned of where she grew up, went to school, and what she really wanted to do. He was surprised to find she aspired to be a published author.
Indo kept bringing wine, and by the end of lunch they were both a little tipsy.
“I suppose we should get to the office and file that quarterly report,” said Crash.
Ginger bit her lip, which Crash thought was adorable. And when she stood, she swayed a little bit.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Then she stepped forward and Ginger’s ankle twisted pitching her forward.
Crash caught her in his arms before she fell.
“You’re not used to drinking, are you?” he said.
“Not four glasses of wine in one sitting.”
Crash caught her scent and found it intriguing. Her chest was pressed up against him cutting through any restraint he had. Impulsively, he bent his head and crushed his lips against hers. The sweetness of her mouth enticed him causing Crash to explore the tender flesh of her mouth with his tongue. She responded eagerly to his invasion. Her tongue swept against his teasing him to take more.
He cupped the round globes of her behind and pulled her closer to him and pleasure surged through him. She felt so good, right in a way that no other woman had. His shaft twitched as the first stirrings of arousal pulsed through him.
Suddenly she pushed him away and crossed her arms against her chest. Her cheeks were flaming red, and a pink flush colored her neck and down her chest as far as he could see through the open collar.
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing?”
“It’s not right… We shouldn’t… You’re my boss!”
Crash nodded. “Of course. Sorry.”
“Sorry?” she said. Her eyes blinked and the edges grew red. Oh god, she wasn’t going to cry, was she?
“No, not sorry I kissed you. I’m sorry if I crossed a line. You’re right. We should be more professional. We have to talk anyway. Come on. I’ll explain it in the limo.”
Ginger couldn’t believe her ears.
“You want me to what?”
“Just pretend to be my fiancé for the weekend.”
“For the weekend?” she sputtered. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but fiancés tend to hang around longer than three days. And what are you going to do after three days?”
“That’s my problem.”
“Well, it sounds like it’s my problem, too. If your father thinks I wronged you somehow, or finds out you’re lying and I went along with it, I could be out of a job.”
“After the weekend, he won’t pay attention.”
“Yeah, until Thanksgiving.”
“Thanksgiving?”
“Hello. Traditional family meal? Big holiday in the United States?”
“We don’t do Thanksgiving,” he said. “It’s just me, Dad and whatever wife he has. Usually they go on a vacation.”
“And he leaves you alone?”
“Well, of course.”
“No wonder things are so strange between you two!” she exclaimed.
“Now wait a minute. Maybe we don’t have the most traditional of families, but he’s my father.”
“And what about Christmas? Does he leave you alone on Christmas?”
“No, we get together for an hour or two.”
“An hour or two?”
“Look, all he wants is for me to settle down. I’ll curtail my social life and stop driving Porches into our friends’ pools. When he gets the idea I’m not the maniac he thinks I am, he’ll drop this idea of marriage. And most likely he’ll forget he ever met you.”
“Thanks,” said Ginger sullenly as she crossed her legs.
“I don’t mean it that way. Any man who could forget you isn’t right in the head.”
“You’re not helping yourself here,” said Ginger,
“In the meantime,” persisted Crash, “at this party will be the top management from all our companies. I’m sure the heads of our publishing houses will be there and you can make some friends. Maybe even sell your book. It wouldn’t hurt.”
Ginger was intrigued with that idea, but it felt wrong somehow, trading on a fake relationship to gain entry into her desired career.
“And what happens if your father finds out?”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to marry me then,” he said with a teasing smile.
“You are terrible. What makes you think I’d have you?”
“I’m crushed,” he said dramatically. He leaned over to her ear, his breath sending hot shivers through her.“Come on, baby,” he said. “Make me the happiest man in the world and be my fake fiancé.”
Ginger, sitting in a high backed leather chair in front of Malloy Abrams’ antique mahogany desk, felt like an impostor, which she was. For the life of her she couldn’t remember why she agreed to Crash’s crazy plan except for the fact that she drank too much wine at lunch, and that when Crash whispered in her ear she melted. Oh, she may have looked calm and cool in her business suit, but her brain was a puddle of mush. Now under Malloy Abrams’ piercing stare, her brain fired on all neurons, but mostly in a fright or flight response.
“Well, this is a surprise,” said the older Abrams with a sarcastic edge to his voice. “Son, why didn’t you tell me you were dating your secretary?”
“We didn’t want to start gossip at the office. I didn’t want to cause problems for Ginger.” Crash, standing next to the chair, put his hand on her shoulder. “Employees tend to get jealous and paranoid around the boss’ girlfriend. Besides, I only asked her today. Happily, she said yes.”
Malloy’s eyes narrowed.
“Is that true? He asked you to marry him today?”
“Yes,” said Ginger.
“And how long have you been dating?”
“Since just after Memorial Day,” said Crash.
“Let the girl answer herself, Crash. Tell me, Ms. Wilmot--”
“Ginger, please,” she said.
“Ginger, how did Crash get his nickname?”
Ginger smiled. She knew this answer. “Well, I thought he was teasing me when he told me, but he showed me a crack in the bannister of the staircase when we came in. He used to crash his tricycle into anything solid.”
Malloy raised both of his eyebrows.
“And what’s the size of his shirts?”
“Father,” scolded Crash. “Is this necessary?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Abrams. I don’t understand your question.”
“It’s easy. What’s his shirt size?”
She cocked her head, thinking this man was acting rudely.
“He doesn’t have one. The shirts are hand tailored for him, so they aren’t sized according to off-the-rack standards.”
“Have you had enough, Father? We’ve had quite a long day, and I’ve got to get settled in since you decided to take away my apartment. Which room should we give Ginger?”
Malloy gave a devilish grin to his son.
“I wasn’t expecting you to bring someone, son, and we’re full up for the weekend, so I guess she’ll have to stay with you. That shouldn’t be a problem for your fiancé, is it?”
As they walked up the lon
g sweeping stairs towards the second floor, Ginger grabbed Cash’s arm.
“He knows!” she hissed.
“He knows nothing. He doesn’t trust me and that’s my fault.”
“You told me I’d have my own room!” she whispered fiercely.
“Sorry. It’s a big room. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“You have a sofa in your room?”
“Yes, and a lot of other furniture. Why are you so freaked out? Just be cool. You did beautifully in there. By the way, how did you know about my shirts?”
“I packed your luggage for you, remember?”
True to his word, Crash slept on the large sofa in his gargantuan sized room, which was the size of three of her apartments. A king sized bed sat under a bank of windows that faced out over the gardens in the back of the mansion. She kicked herself for feeling disappointed that he didn’t try to take advantage of the situation. Why was she so messed up about this? When this weekend was over she’d go back to her tinny tiny apartment, answering phones for a man who was never in the office.
But she couldn’t help stealing glances when he walked to the bathroom and back because, as it turns out, Crash liked to sleep shirtless. Remembering what it felt like when he held her tight against his chest made shivers run through her body. She hated herself for remembering it. It meant nothing to him, of course. He had been with many women. But for Ginger, just for a minute, it felt like he was opening his heart to her. In the end, that night, she couldn’t help but cry for something, or rather someone she could never have. And it was worse, because she had to muffle her sobs in her pillow to keep him from hearing her distress.
How did she get into such a messed up situation?
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up from her pillow at Crash standing over the bed.
“I’m tired. I had too much to drink. Is that all you people do, is drink wine?” Dinner was another wine-laden affair, which she did not expect.
He sat on the bed. “You probably are tired,” he said gently. “And my father can put the fear of God into anyone. He does it to me. It’s been a long day.”
Oh god, he was being nice to her. She couldn’t bear it and tears welled in her eyes again.
“Ssh, ssh,” said Crash. He began to rub her back with his strong hand and the soft back and forth motion calmed her. “See,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.” He stood up but she grabbed his arm.
“Don’t go,” she said.
“Ginger.”
“Please.”
He sighed and slid in between the sheets. “You are testing my resolve.”
“Your resolve?”
“To be good.”
“Oh. Well, don’t hang up your bad boy image on my account.”
He turned toward her. “Are you sure about that?”
She leaned forward and moved to touch her lips to his. In the soft low light of the lamp on the nightstand his eyes burned fiercely. She might not be able to keep Crash, but at least she could have a night of memories of when she had the bad boy billionaire to herself. And it would only be one night because she wouldn’t be able to face him after this. With Crash so close, Ginger admitted something that she hid inside her heart for a long time. She loved Crash Abrams, and had since she first set sight on him.
Crash rained soft kisses on her neck, and behind her ears, murmuring things she did not quite hear. His hand cupped her breast and his thumb played with her nipple sending sparks of desire down her spine. Her back arched up and he dropped his hand to her mound, making delicious circles in her most sensitive places. She felt her juices gather at her opening. He pushed in closer to her and his hard length pressed throbbing into her thigh. She wanted, no needed this. All the months she spent fantasizing about what it would be like to have him touch her was not as good as the real thing.
“Crash,” she said. “I need you.”
“I need you, too, baby,” he said. Then Crash sucked a nipple into his mouth and she cried out with the pleasure of it, of having his tongue play with the hardened nub, the sharpness of him drawing it deeper in his mouth spiking the need in her. She couldn’t hold back when he slid his finger inside her and her hips bucked as waves of electric fire shot through her. He held her as her breathing calmed, but then he fingered her again and her breathing speed up.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” he said.
She nodded her head. Ginger pulled the drawstring of his silk sleep pants and drew them down over his hips. His cock was long and hard. She placed her hand on it reveling in the velvet-in-steel feel of its length.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Not half as beautiful as you,” Crash said. “I said I need you, baby.”
She nodded, afraid of saying anything more; terrified she’d utter the secret yearnings of her heart. He leaned over her and kissed her passionately as if all the need and desire in the world was rolled into that one kiss. Slowly he guided himself to her entrance, a deep sigh escaping his lips as the tip of his length entered her inner sanctum. She gasped at how good it felt to have him in her and she thrust her hips to take more of him. Crash moved slowly at first and she writhed beneath him urging him with her moans to give her more. She locked her legs around his hips as he thrust deeper and harder within her. Ginger threw her arms around his neck clinging to him in the wild ride as her body climbed higher on the pleasure he gave her until she burst apart screaming his name.
Crash woke feeling happy and relaxed for the first time in many years. He felt the bed looking for Ginger. Crash had never met a woman that gave herself so freely, was so responsive and as hungry for him as he was for her. And thinking of her, his shaft filled once more, ready for her even though they made love how many times last night? He couldn’t remember. But he did hold her tight vowing in his mind to never let her go.
And his bed was empty.
Damn.
She wasn’t in the bathroom, so he took a quick shower. Ginger couldn’t have gone far and was probably having some breakfast on the terrace. He pulled on some casual clothes, khakis and a polo shirt. While he slipped on his loafers when he noticed something.
Ginger’s clothes weren’t in the closet.
They were hanging there last night.
A cold feeling ran through Crash and he ran down the stairs, and nearly ran over his father walking from the day room.
“What did you do!” demanded Crash. At this moment he didn’t put anything past his father.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ginger. She’s gone!”
“You really didn’t expect your little charade to last, did you?”
“What did you say to her?”
“Me? Nothing. She was perfectly polite when she left in the cab this morning.”
“You let her leave?”
“What else was I supposed to do? We don’t keep guests prisoners.”
“She’s not a guest!” sputtered Crash. “She’s, she’s—”
“She’s what, Crash?” asked his father, looking genuinely concerned.
“Oh hell. What car can I take?”
“Your Porsche is in the garage.”
“You took that, too?”
“Had it towed the night you were in the hotel after Rolo called. He told me you drove off with some woman and left the car at his house. I was intending to teach you a lesson. But apparently I was wrong. I am wrong, aren’t I?”
“Yes. You are most certainly wrong.”
Crash flew back up the stairs and grabbed his phone and his wallet and one other item he kept in a safe in his closet. He ran down the stairs just as fast almost running over his father again.
“Slow down!” called his father.
Crash had never been so frantic in his life. Why did she leave? What happened? And then he realized he didn’t know where she lived. It was Friday. Maybe she went to the office. Yes. She had to go there.
“I have to get to the office. That’s where she’ll be.”
&nbs
p; “The roads are insane now with Labor Day traffic.”
“Dad, I have no idea what’s wrong, but I’ve got to get to her.”
“I have the company helicopter here, just in case some guests had trouble getting in or out. I’ll call the pilot. He’s here on standby.”
Crash was never so grateful for his father’s extreme attention to detail. He hugged him roughly and then ran out to the helipad at the far end of the gardens. While in the air he ran over the details of the night, wondering what could have run her off but came up with nothing. He grew a little angry then, thinking her callous for leaving his bed abruptly.
Who are you to talk, he thought to himself. How many times have you done the same exact thing?
Was this some kind of crazy karma, he thought, that he found a woman he loved and she didn’t love him back?
Love? Yes. He loved her. He was sure of it. Crash never felt this way toward a woman before.
After the helicopter landed, he ran through the building to his office, his heart pounding in his chest. He was profoundly disappointed to find she wasn’t in the office. He called down to the guard’s desk.
“Has Ms. Williams entered the building yet?”
“Ms. Williams?”
“My administrative assistant.”
“Oh, Ms. Wilmot. Not yet. She generally doesn’t get in for another half hour, but she’s never late.”
Oh shoot. How could he expect a woman to want him when he couldn’t even remember her name?
Crash paced his office waiting for the minutes to tick down when she would arrive. Finally, the front door to the office opened and Crash sat down at his desk. He heard her moving around, and heard her crying again.
He couldn’t take it.
“Ms. Williams,” he called. “Come into my office.”
He heard a little shriek and something drop. Crash ran out to the outer office and caught her arm, as she was about to flee.
“What do you think you are doing?” he said.
“I, I,” stammered Ginger. “I’m quitting.”
“Ginger, what’s wrong? Tell me. Why did you leave?”
“I couldn’t stay. I can’t work for you anymore, Crash.”
“Why?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks in great big drops. “Because you are you. And you wouldn’t want someone like me, not for real.”
The Billionaire's Fake Marriage (A Romance Collection Boxed Set) Page 23