His Fake Fiancée: BBW Romance (Fake it For Me Book 1)

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His Fake Fiancée: BBW Romance (Fake it For Me Book 1) Page 6

by Fiona Murphy


  Now he’s offering me Rebecca’s job, then Simon’s when he’s found a replacement. What is his deal? It’s me being stupid—it has to be. Ever since the way he acted on the plane, I have been trying desperately to keep away from him and keep my eyes off him. It wasn’t easy, but apparently I succeeded enough to assure him I wasn’t going to be a problem.

  Ivan smiles, while those black eyes glint with promise, a promise of what, I’m not sure. His phone goes off, he pulls it out of his inner pocket with annoyance. “What?”

  My phone vibrates, and I freeze, afraid of what it means. Checking it, I exhale. Emily wants to know where the extra heating pad is, she can’t find it. It’s in my room; I apologize and approve of her getting another one if needed.

  “Gemma, what exactly is the issue now? Yesterday you were dead set on telling Aari’s mum to go fuck herself. What in the hell changed between now and then?” Ivan sighs. “Of course, I manipulated you into it. You did not leave me much choice. I am not going to try and undo a knot when it is best to cut through all the bullshit.”

  Wow, he has zero regret he was found out for manipulating her. What an ass. Then again, he’s so damned good at it—manipulating people, that is—he probably took pride in it.

  Watching him today, I was struck at how smoothly he worked his way through one person after another. How reassuring and comforting he was to the two sisters and their mother. Of course, he understood how deeply they cared about not just what they created, but the message behind it. He not only understood, he believed in it too. He was only here to make sure it didn’t die out, that the business succeeded in reaching more people.

  How he finessed the father and the brother, they put in the sweat and hard labor to make it happen, yet they didn’t feel appreciated for the long hours they put in. Ivan was there to alleviate the sweat and long hours, to ensure a smoother, less arduous work schedule. Of course, Ivan embraced the gordian knot Alexander the Great fable of cutting through a problem, yet he also had the insight and awareness to know when to use a heavy hand and when to use a light one.

  We pull up in front of the restaurant. As badly as I want to stay and eavesdrop, I move fast in order not to make it obvious I’m trying to listen in. Tim doesn’t even bother looking back as we enter the building, with Ivan still in the car. There is no wait before we are seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant as Tim requests.

  The moment we sit down, Tim sighs loudly. “His family, they,” he rolls his eyes, “are incredibly needy. His sisters aren’t always such a pain, but Gemma has been getting worse the closer she gets to her weddings.”

  “Weddings?”

  A nod, as he looks over the menu. “She’s marrying an Indian guy. The mom is demanding a Hindu ceremony plus the regular wedding. It’s going to be back-to-back weekends, Hindu ceremony one weekend and regular the next. We’ll be stuck over in England for two weeks.

  “He doesn’t act like it, but there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for his sisters. During the day he might not always pick up, but if it’s the middle of the night he answers the first ring.

  “His mom is a different story entirely. He won’t take a call from her, ever. Know that now: if ever she calls, you tell her that he’s busy and take a message. Over the last few years, though, she has called less and less, only four times all of last year.”

  “Not a momma’s boy then?” It isn’t easy to pretend I’m not dying to know everything about Ivan.

  “Hell no, she doesn’t deserve it either. He bought a house for his mom and sisters when he made money. Once when he was there, in Manchester, he caught a tip on a property. One of those local big deal places, you know? He bought it, he was going to fix it up and sell it. His mom moved in and won’t let him sell it.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Tim laughs. “Yeah, every time he goes over there, he threatens he’s going to sell it. She’s a piece of work. You know how his voice is jacked up? It was because her boyfriend choked him out when he was ten years old. She didn’t want to take him to the hospital, left him on the floor there where the asshole dropped him.”

  Oh my god. I don’t know how I don’t say it out loud, I’m so shocked.

  “One of Ivan’s friends ran to tell his mom and the mom called emergency services for him. Ivan could have died, suffocated from the injury. It wasn’t going to heal by itself. His mom got mad at Ivan when the boyfriend ended up in jail because of it. The authorities looked into it, found out Ivan had been in for a broken arm, broken nose, two broken fingers. They ended up putting the guy away for five years.”

  “Holy shit. Just five years?” It doesn’t sound like nearly enough for what the bastard put Ivan through. I couldn’t imagine what he went through. Pain, sharp and bright, flares at the idea of him hurt and no one caring enough to protect him.

  “Yeah, the laws in England are way looser than in the States. They focus on rehabilitation and all that. Five years is actually a strong sentence because it was a collapsed larynx on top of all the history they found. Don’t say anything, though. He doesn’t like to talk about it or his relationship with his mom.”

  A small shake of his head. “His sisters, ask all you want, he loves them and is proud of them. He basically raised them. If he’s in the right mood he’ll talk for hours about them. When we get over there just ignore the mom. She is always trying to get us to give up information on him. No faster way to get yourself fired than to talk to her.”

  Tim goes still. “He’s coming.”

  5

  Ivan

  As we exit the elevator Tim hands out keycards to the rooms. I take mine and nod at them. “Take twenty to get settled, then I want you two in my room. I want to go over what we might have missed as an argument and how to ensure when we leave there tomorrow it is with a signed contract.”

  Once I am in my room, away from Christina, the tension that has been in me all day intensifies. Fuck. Out of sight should mean out of mind, and out of my fucking blood. This attraction to her makes even less sense today than it did yesterday.

  When Christina stepped on the plane, the change in her appearance was jarring. Gone were her curves; they were covered in boring, bad clothes. Her long, beautiful hair was scraped into what looked like a painfully tight bun. To add insult to it all, her gorgeous face was smothered in makeup. Despite all of that, my hunger for her threatened to overtake my every thought.

  Resentment rose within me, at her, at myself. This needed to end, quickly. Lusting after an employee in front of another was distasteful. I had done my best to create distance, even as I was doing it, seeing the hurt and confusion in her eyes, I called myself a bastard. Yet I could not stop, the distance was necessary. For me and her.

  Starving the fever with it right in front of me is not going to be easy. I need to find someone to replace her and I need to do it now. I send an email to Denise demanding an update to the search for Rebecca’s replacement. Her response is almost instantaneous: she has two people. She has reached out to our go-to staffing firm for candidates. By the end of the day there will be more possibilities. Good. Hopefully by the end of the week I will have a viable candidate.

  This is a normal evening for me and my team. We go over the day then create a plan for the next day, often working until dinner, then break for the night. Normally, I would lose my tie, suit jacket, and sometimes even change into sweats and a plain T-shirt. Today, all I do is remove my tie and unbutton my jacket. Distance needs to be maintained, any way I can do it. I felt Christina’s eyes on me often today, and it was even more annoying how much I liked it.

  The knock on my door is soft. Taking a deep breath, I move to answer it.

  ***

  Christina

  Yep, he hates me. Totally cannot stand me. For the entire five hours we were all working together in his room, he barely looked at me. The few times he did, I swear there was nothing but contempt on his gorgeous face. Even when he asked me direct questions about Hungry Harvest and my thoughts going forwa
rd.

  During the last two hours when Tim and I took care of regular work stuff, catching up on emails, reviewing progress on current mergers, I barely felt his eyes on me at all.

  I toss myself on the ridiculously comfortable bed and wonder why I’m hurt. I had been doing better, I swear. I barely looked at him...okay, I tried not to look at him. It’s just, he was right there and I swear it was like he demanded the attention of everyone around him.

  So I did my best to keep my eyes off his stupid beautiful face only to notice the strength in his thighs, the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt when he undid his suit jacket, those hands, god, those hands, large, yet nimble. Stop it, you freak.

  Whatever, I was calm and cool, damn it, and he was still...just remembering the way his tone rapped against me when he corrected me, doubted me, was so fucking rude to me. He was being such a bastard. I hate him. It isn’t fair, I was trying. If it weren’t for Tim right there, I’m positive I would have lost it on him already.

  My phone rings, I check the display. Anna. I answer before I stop to think about it. “Hey.”

  “Hi, what’s the matter? I thought you would be all happy. You sound like you’re at a funeral.”

  I lie back on the bed, kicking off my shoes. “Nothing, not a good day. Ivan is an asshole is all.”

  “Ah, I’m not really surprised. I’m sorry though. I’m the one who hyped you up on how awesome it was going to be. He hasn’t said anything about you getting Simon’s job?”

  “No, he did. It’s mine. Well, once he finds someone to replace Rebecca. I’m filling in until he does. He doesn’t think it should be much longer than a week or two. Even that feels like a prison sentence though.”

  Her gasp is loud in my ear. “Oh my god, that is amazing. When you get back, we have to celebrate. Your treat, now that you have baller status. Two nights out in a week; the bartender will be so shocked he might even give you a drink on the house. I’m telling you he likes you. I don’t know why you don’t believe me.”

  “My treat.” She’s bought me way more drinks than I ever have for her over the last two years. “Whatever, dude is a certifiable manwhore, he’s like that with everyone. It’s called earning better tips.”

  “Yeah, yeah, he’d still show you a good time if you wanted. Which you totally should. It won’t make you a dirty whore, no matter what your Abuelo says.”

  Again with this. I wish I hadn’t admitted to her that I hadn’t been with anyone since Brandon and I didn’t even miss it. I got the vibrator only a week later. She also urges me to hook up with someone almost every time we go out. “The last thing I need right now is to add another man to my problems. I screwed up.”

  “How did you screw up?”

  I’m such a loser. Since it’s all on me it’s weird how easy it is to admit it now. Probably because it’s over the phone and I can’t see her laughing at me. “I kind of went gaga and stupid over Ivan. I made an idiot of myself and he had to go and do the being-an-ass thing to push me away. You know, the whole ‘don’t fall for me, fatty, I don’t want anything to do with you.’”

  “Christina, ah, damn girl. I’m sorry. Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You are not the only one, at all. The only reason Denise is in her position is because the last two HR heads got all heart eyes and made pests of themselves, and one of them was a dude. Ivan went through no less than four different personal assistants before he found Tim and Rebecca.

  “One of the women threatened a sexual harassment lawsuit because he turned her down and fired her. The thing that saved him was their conversation was recorded for dictation. He’s been through it all. Hell, rumor has it even Rebecca, married Rebecca, offered herself up for tension relief if he should ever wish. She got a stiff-ass reprimand that if she ever said anything like it ever again, she would be fired in a blink of the eye.”

  “How the hell do you know all this?”

  She laughs. “Girl, I can’t tell you my sources. All I’m going to say is there are more chatty Cathys in our company than you know. If you weren’t all anti-social you’d know too.”

  “Hm, I doubt that.” I had told her some of the freeze-out I had received but didn’t want to sound like I was whining, so I didn’t tell her everything.

  “So yeah, I guess he just wants to make sure he doesn’t have to worry about a harassment lawsuit if he takes you up on your offer. Or being accused of anything else from other employees. You are going from being Simon’s personal assistant to having his job after filling in for Rebecca. From the outside it could look like there were some shenanigans going on for you to get such a cushy job.”

  “Shenanigans?” I laugh.

  “I love that word. Abuela heard it from her bingo peeps and now everything I get up to is shenanigans. You, girl, you are the farthest from ever getting up to shenanigans. The thing is Ivan doesn’t know that. So he’s just keeping his hands as clean as possible. I know it’s hard and hurts, but try not to let it get to you.”

  “You’re right. It’s not fair one man can be so rich, gorgeous, and brilliant. But he’s also a mean bastard. Like just a huge dick.”

  Anna laughs, it’s infectious. “Girl, I have heard his dick is huge too. His exes say he’s worth all the trouble.”

  Why am I not surprised Ivan is big? I now get the phrase “big dick energy”—the man is filled to the brim with it. Why does it make me clench my legs in anticipation? “You are crazy.”

  “If you would just use the damn vibrator I got you I swear you wouldn’t be having all these dirty, lustful thoughts about the man.”

  I blush until I swear I’m going to pass out. “Shut up.”

  “No, you shut up. Fine, you’re all scared your Abuelo will hear you. You’re in a hotel room where no one is going to disturb you. Pull up some dirty stories and let your fingers do the walking. You do know where your clit is, don’t you?”

  I read romance, but not those romances. It’s usually the historical ones where things fade to black which I’m more than content with. “I’m hanging up now. Goodnight, Anna.”

  “I promise you if you do it, you won’t have lustful thoughts about Ivan.”

  “You’re lying.” It can’t be that easy, can it?

  A mean giggle. “No, I’m not. Do the deed, answer the need and it goes away. You only want what you can’t have or aren’t getting. Give yourself a few orgasms, and you won’t be gasping for Ivan to give you one. I know what I’m talking about.

  “I’m going to shoot you some stories. God, I love technology. You can read smutty awesome porn that looks like it’s any old romance novel. These are quickies, they’ll take you less than twenty minutes to read. Enjoy a few of them and once the juices start flowing, keep rubbing until you see stars.”

  “Your Abuela would wash your mouth out with soap,” I mutter as I cover my burning face with a pillow even as I’m wondering if she’s right.

  “Um, hello? Where do you think I learned how to do it? Abuela’s the one who helped me pick out your vibrator.”

  I jackknife up, I really don’t believe her now. “You are such a liar.”

  She laughs loud. “My mom got pregnant with me when she was fifteen, one of my tias got pregnant at sixteen and the other, thank god, didn’t get pregnant but Abuela found her going at it when she was fourteen. Abuela was all hell no, she didn’t want any more babies popping out.

  “I think I was twelve, maybe thirteen when Abuela had the talk with me. Most embarrassing day of my life, but she didn’t drop it, she kept talking until I was comfortable with the idea. And yeah, my mom was pissed but she got over it.”

  A heavy sigh and bitter laugh. “Straight up, most men don’t care if we come or not, it’s all about them. Sex can be hit or miss even if you’re crazy in love with a guy. It’s even more so if you don’t know what you like, what turns you on.”

  My phone goes off with the emails she sent me. There are three different attachments. I open them as she talks, wondering if it could be as easy as she claims.
Do the...thing she’s talking about, then all the crazy desire for Ivan dies out. I’m not so sure something this strong just goes away, but I’m now willing to consider it.

  “Speaking of Abuela, there she is. I need to answer her. We’ll talk later, chica. Night.”

  “Night,” I reply, but she’s already hung up.

  While I’m thinking of it I call Abuelo and check in. Thank goodness he likes Emily. They’re playing gin, with music on in the background. I figure I’ll wait to tell him the good news about me getting a promotion soon, so our call doesn’t last long.

  Hanging up, I check the emails again. I download the stories Anna sent, only to toss my phone away. Later, right now I’m starving. It doesn’t take long to order down for room service. They give a lot longer wait than I thought it would be, so I decide to jump in the shower.

  Fifteen minutes later I’m out again and wrapping myself in the pretty silk red robe that used to be Abuela’s. It’s old and worn but I love it.

  The knock comes sooner than I thought. I don’t even think before opening the door. Only it’s not room service, it’s Ivan. He is wearing a plain white T-shirt that stretches across his wide muscled chest. Against the white of the shirt his skin has a sun-kissed honey glow I want to taste with my tongue.

  I watch in fascination as the skin beneath his biceps ripples. His eyes go wide then trail down over me. Black becomes glittering obsidian as his jaw clenches. It’s the only thing in him that moves. I don’t even think he’s breathing, he’s so still. Tension rises in me to the point of pain; intense heat out of control is consuming me where I stand.

  A deep, shuddering breath moves through him. He blinks, then shaking his head, he takes a step back. “I apologize. I had attempted to call you several times to ask a question. I realize now you must not have heard the call. I will email instead.”

  I want to argue. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Not a word. He walks away and I’m left staring at the way the soft cloth of his sweatpants caresses his perfectly molded ass. Holy motherfucking crap. I’m so very, very wet. It isn’t until his door closes I can even blink.

 

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