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

by Fiona Murphy

  In the kitchen there is a small woman with graying dark hair in a pixie cut. Her brown eyes are soft and welcoming like her smile. She’s wearing a while silk blouse and black pants, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s a uniform. She is carrying a plate with what appears to be my breakfast to the table where Ivan is sitting, going through his phone. “Good morning, right on time.”

  “Christina, this is Lilly. Lilly runs my home. Lilly, Christina will be staying for a little while.”

  Her handshake is firm, and her smile so big I wonder if it’s painful. “I’m so happy to meet you. So very glad you’re here. Your coffee is on the table. I chose to put out cream and sugar for you. If there is anything at all you need, please let me know.”

  I nod, a little overwhelmed at her effusive happiness.

  “That is enough, Lilly. You are embarrassing her.”

  “Be nice, Ivan,” I hiss at him.

  He chuckles. “Lilly has been with me for ages, she is well aware how not nice I am. Sit and eat.”

  Lilly disappears.

  “Is she always so nice?”

  His eyes on his phone, he shrugs. “I do not have visitors here, just my assistants to work. That could be a part of the reason.”

  “Ever? You don’t bring women here?”

  “No, I do not like people in my space. Lilly does not even live in. She comes in at six and leaves by four, often before. Make a list of anything you need so she can shop for it today. I grabbed a few things; however, I know there are things I missed.”

  That whole me going home thing, not happening. “Okay, I’ll put it together when we get to the office.”

  He glances at his watch. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why are we going to your lawyer’s office? Why are you not using the legal department?” I ask as we get into the elevator. I’m wondering if it’s personal, what it could be.

  “For the contract to settle our deal.” He doesn’t take his eyes off his phone.

  I’m stunned and hurt. The insane urge to slap him comes over me. “A contract? You want me to sign a fucking contract?”

  Finally, he takes his eyes off his phone to frown down at me. “Of course, it will protect you as much as it will me.”

  “Protect me? Protect me from what? And what the hell is it protecting you from? What do you think I could do to you?” Do not cry in front of him. Don’t fucking cry.

  He steps close. I move away, thankful for the large elevator because I don’t want him touching me right now. Ivan doesn’t like that, the fucker grabs my arm, holding me tight against him.

  “Christina, this is a simple, clear-cut document that spells everything out. The five hundred thousand you get, protecting your position in my company, and keeping anyone from ever knowing this was not real.”

  “I told you I don’t want the money. I told you that I wouldn’t tell anyone. Do you not trust me? Do you think I’m a liar? Fuck you, Ivan.” Why does this hurt so bad? I try to get away, but his hand tightens on my arm and the other hand has me by the back of the neck.

  “Christina, calm down. I am a wealthy man. This is a part of ensuring I stay that way. You are taking the money and I am making sure I protect you too.”

  “No, I won’t do it. You can’t make me sign anything. I’m not taking the money and if you keep pushing this, then I’m walking away from all of this.”

  His jaw tightens.

  “I am serious as a heart attack. There isn’t a single thing you can say to make me change my mind. You put a contact in front of me and you’ll never see me again. I promise you that.”

  The elevator doors open. Ivan hits a button and they close, but we don’t move. He takes a breath so deep his massive chest bulges with it, then stares me down. I lose track of time, neither of us move. Closing his eyes, he lowers his head to mine. I wonder if he will let me go. Those bees are back and frantic with fear.

  He opens his eyes, only inches away from mine. I get lost in their depth. “You do not tell a soul.”

  I nod a fraction of an inch.

  “Until Mishka is no longer an issue, you keep up the pretense.”

  Another nod.

  “You belong to me.”

  I smile this time as I nod.

  “One warning, love: if I am crossed, I am relentless in ensuring a deep and abiding regret in the person who did it.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” I whisper. I think I manage to hide the shiver the threat sends down my spine.

  His kiss is deep, drugging, and doesn’t last nearly long enough. “Fine, no contract on paper.”

  Letting me go, he hits the button and the doors open. People are standing outside staring curiously. Ivan doesn’t even notice them, just takes my arm and steers me through the crowd. In the car, he makes a call, letting his lawyer know he is cancelling the appointment, it is no longer necessary.

  Once we’re in the elevator at work, I admit I’m worried about what Tim will say, or think of me.

  “No worries, Tim is professional. He has already sent me a text of congratulations after asking if there was anything further I would be willing to comment once the press reached out to the office. At the same time, he expressed how it was not a surprise at all.”

  Ivan shakes his head, with a smile. “I was sure I managed to hide my attraction to you. It would appear I was wrong. Speaking of, I have an interview today. Hopefully, this person will be the one to get you back downstairs.”

  I flash him a hurt look.

  He pinches my ass. “Having you around is painful for my cock, my love. It is about self-preservation.”

  I laugh. “You’re so dirty.”

  “And you love it.” The elevator opens and we both sober as we step out.

  ***

  Christina

  The day passes like any other, except I’m kept on a low hum of need as Ivan succeeds on every level. Every step I take I feel him inside me; if for a moment I lose focus, the bites on my ass taunt me. It’s a little bit of heaven and hell. Every time I think of it, awe fills me at how much Ivan wants me, how voracious he was for not just my body but me. Mr. He-Only-Fucks, One-Night-and-Done. Ivan isn’t a liar; all of that might have been what he thought he wanted, but it isn’t what’s happening right now.

  My ring catches the light and I glance at Tim to make sure he doesn’t see me run a finger over it. I still can’t believe Ivan bought it. It’s not the price of it, it’s that he cared enough to get it.

  He could have splashed out on some big, fancy, boring diamond, but he hacked my damn account and went looking through my boards. I’m not even mad about the hacking, at this point nothing he does surprises me anymore. It does make me wonder if...okay, stop it. Stop now, get back to work.

  It’s almost odd how normal the day is, as if it were any other Tuesday. I see the interview Ivan has for the applicant is at four thirty. Out of curiosity I look through the file compiled on her, sent from the Valdez security company Ivan uses. Huh, she seems perfect for the job.

  Right now, she’s the personal assistant for another CEO of a fortune 500 company here in Chicago. A position she’s held for four years. Indications are she’s leaving because she was denied a raise she felt she was owed. Checking her pay rate, I understand her feelings: she’s making almost twenty grand less than what she will earn working for Ivan. Then I get to the last page, it’s a badge picture. Motherfucker, she’s gorgeous and only thirty-two years old.

  My stomach twists at the idea of her working with Ivan. I go back through her file because I could have sworn I saw it, and damn it. She’s single, after a divorce two years ago.

  Stop it, Christina, he’s moved you into his home after never even having a woman spend the night. I take a deep breath. There’s no guarantee he will even like her. The man is incredibly picky when it came to assistants. I would have thought he would have chosen at least one from the three who have interviewed so far. An email comes through from Ivan asking for research. I close out of the f
ile and try to focus on work.

  I have managed to convince myself there’s nothing to worry about until she arrives. Sonofabitch. She has legs up to her neck and a body like an old-fashioned Coke bottle. Tim takes her into Ivan’s office, I try to pretend I’m not freaking out.

  Tim laughs. “You have nothing to worry about. Less than nothing.”

  Eyes wide, I can’t believe he knows.

  “You have a very expressive face. It’s how I knew about you and Ivan. Which, really, congrats. I’ve never seen the guy so damn happy. I’m glad you put him out of his misery. Coming in late, telling me he’s leaving early.”

  Another laugh. “You didn’t see he had me clear his calendar? Everything after six from now until the end of the week has been rescheduled. I’m also not going to Manchester with you guys. I’ll be working from here.”

  What?

  “My bad, I remember he didn’t cc you on the email. There wasn’t much to it. Just I wasn’t going to be needed. That woman could lie on his desk naked and it would only annoy him, even before he met you. Now, it might actually make him angry.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter, embarrassed.

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. Did you the finish the research yet?”

  “Yep, I’m sending it now.” Who would have thought Tim would make me feel so much better? He’s right, I’ve had to watch more women than I can count flirt with Ivan. The only thing it inspired in him was annoyance. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll have all of his attention, for at least the next three weeks...except after that she’ll work for him and I’ll be gone.

  Why does my stomach flip with nerves when Ivan tells me he thinks she will work out in the car? Shut up, shut up, don’t say a word. He wants you in his home, we’re leaving at six o’clock like normal people because of you. We’re going out to dinner, because he thinks the dress is too good to waste going home.

  The restaurant is one of his favorites. He doesn’t eat out often, I’ve noticed. As we walk through it to get to our table, the staff nod at him as we pass. The menu looks good but nothing appeals.

  “Christina?”

  “What?”

  I realize he’s said my name a few times already. Putting down the menu, I force a smile. “Sorry—”

  The waitress comes to take our order. I go with salmon and a salad.

  She’s barely walked away before Ivan is on me. “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing?”

  He sighs. “Fine, I will not hire her.”

  Shame fills me. “I’m being stupid. If you think she’ll fit, then hire her. Ignore me.”

  A soft chuckle brings my eyes to his. “Rest assured, Christina, the one thing I have never been able to do is ignore you. I will not do so in the future. I will keep looking. There was another applicant who appealed, I will schedule them tomorrow.”

  “Ivan, I—”

  “Do you like arguing in general, or is it just with me?”

  “Actually, I don’t argue in general, it’s only ever you.” I barely restrain myself from sticking out my tongue. “I’m trying to be an adult here and admit that’s it’s ridiculous of me to be jealous about you being around a tall, blonde, curvy Yale graduate, with enormous breasts I’m pretty sure are fake by the way. Why won’t you accept it?”

  “Because despite what you say now, I know every time she will be working late with me, you will be stressed out wondering if there is anything happening. Also, if you think you are hiring an attractive man or lesbian for your assistant when you take over Simon’s office, I am warning you it will not happen.”

  I laugh, I’m not going to argue with him anymore. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome. Save room for dessert, they have a cheesecake I believe you will like.”

  14

  Ivan

  Normally, dinner is a torturous affair where I have to pretend I care what a woman is saying instead of counting down the minutes to the time I can take her home and fuck her. Tonight, I am so lost in Christina, the way her beautiful face changes expressions in a flash, from laughing, to frowning, to joy sometimes within seconds, that I lose track of time until she yawns.

  Damn it, I am doing a piss poor job of taking care of her. Regardless of her insistence, I cannot help but feel guilt over the bruises I left on her body. Unwilling to upset her again, I do my best to push it aside as I set down my credit card for the bill.

  “When we leave, Lawrence will take you home. I will follow in a little while. I have an issue that needs to be resolved.”

  “It’s almost nine o’clock. Where are you going?” The line between her eyes deepens.

  “It will not take long.” I avoid her question as I trace the faint shadow of the veins on the back of her hand.

  She pulls away. “No. You are not going to go talk to Abuelo.”

  How the hell did she know?

  “It isn’t your fight. I’m not sorry, or ashamed, or anything else but fucking relieved he said what he did. Ever since my father died Abuelo has controlled my life and me so completely I had no idea I felt as suffocated as I did.”

  The shake of her head is mournful. “The first time I wore makeup he called me a whore. The first time I spent the night at a friend’s house when I was thirteen years old he came to check up on me, declared her parents trash and dragged me out of there in my pajamas. The first time I got a C in a class, he grounded me for a month and went on about how I was bringing shame on him and my grandmother.”

  Anger flares within me at the anguish on her beautiful face.

  “The one time I slept over at Anna’s because I was too tipsy and tired to go home, he called me a slut because he was convinced that I was with a man. It was last year. I’m thirty years old. The clothes I hated, I wore them because it’s what he wanted me to wear. Giving up painting, the one thing I loved most, I don’t even do anymore because he said it was a waste of money and my time.” She sighs.

  “I’m sorry I was a wreck last night. It hurt but I’m grateful he finally shook me up enough to see everything I’ve been ignoring for so long in order to keep him happy. This isn’t a fight, and it definitely isn’t your fight. Things need to change between us, we’ll figure it out, but not now. When this,” her eyes fall from mine as she waves a hand at me, “ends, it will be easier for him to say sorry.”

  “The guilt card and all that. If you go now, it will kick up a lot of dust that doesn’t need to be. I’ll look like an even bigger idiot to him when I get my just desserts. Please, drop it.”

  As it had in the elevator this morning, frustration threatens to overwhelm me. The need to argue this was the right thing to do, it was necessary for my peace of mind, I was right, rose then died on my lips. It did not matter if I was right.

  For her peace of mind, for her, I needed to back down and respect her request not to become involved. The wreckage of our relationship ending would be a much higher cost to her than me; I needed to do everything I could to lessen it.

  “All right.”

  She blinks fast. “Wow, it was that easy?”

  “Considering the amount of pain you shared with me, it was not easy to agree in the slightest. However, if becoming involved will cause you more pain in the end, I will not add to it. Come on, it’s time to get you to bed.”

  On the way home she is quiet. Her head on my shoulder, she sighs with contentment when I take her hand in mine. My phone rings as we exit the car. It is Hannah. Ignoring it appeals greatly; however, it is somewhere around four in the morning in Manchester which means she’s been fretting on whether or not to call me all day. Hannah had problems with insomnia, so she most likely has not been to bed. If I do not answer it is unlikely she will sleep at all.

  “Hello?”

  “You have changed. Answering the phone with a question instead of a demand. I cannot believe it. Who is this woman? Does she have a magic wand, owe her soul to the devil, what’s her secret?”

  “At least the magic wand, most likely.”

&
nbsp; “A joke? You made a joke. Holy shit. You’re bringing her next week, right? She’s coming!”

  I push Christina toward the bedroom as I go into my office. “Yes, she is coming with me. Calm down.”

  “You get engaged to some woman we’ve never even heard of before. She has you making jokes and answering the phone like a human being and you want me to calm down? That’s it, who the hell are you and what the hell have you done with my brother? He’s in the lake, isn’t he? With a cement overcoat.”

  Rolling my eyes, I tug off my tie and unbutton my shirt. “Now you are being offensive. I am tired. I am going to bed.”

  “Wait, Ivan.”

  “What?”

  “This isn’t because of Mishka, is it?”

  How the fuck could she possibly know? “Of course, this is not because of Mishka. I told you, no woman forces me to do anything I do not want to do. Once you meet Christina, you will understand.”

  “Okay, okay, just making sure. This happened kind of fast. And I just...never mind. I’m happy for you, me and Gemma are really thrilled. We can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Good night. Hannah.”

  “Night.”

  Christina is already in bed, and the witch is naked, sitting up leaning against the white upholstered headboard. The contrast of the white surface to her glowing skin is magnetic. Tilting her head, she welcomes my kiss with a moan of my name. The sound goes straight to my cock. Every time I hear it, I need more.

  A small hand caresses my chest, reminding me of her enjoyment yesterday when I allowed her to make a thorough study of my body. For the first time I was proud of my body, at the way she ran her fingers over me with appreciation, then her tongue with soft, erotic moans.

  Pulling away is agony. Grasping her hand, I press a kiss to it. “No, love, you need to rest. Your body still needs to recover. I came in to change. I will be next door.”