Penthouse Prince

by Nelson, Virginia

  Recognizing the voice, she tried to control her expression. “Yes, you’re Lowe?”

  He nodded and closed the distance to capture her extended hand. “Yup, also known as the one person you don’t have to fake it for. I’m curious how you wound up engaged to my best friend. Care to share the story?”

  “No, she does not.” Camden leaned on the doorframe. “Jeanie, I thought you’d get dressed. Makeup artist is waiting in your room with the hairdresser. All you have to do is sit, and they’ll work their magic.”

  His tone didn’t match his relaxed stance, and, if Jeanie didn’t know better, she’d wager he sounded just a little jealous.

  Ridiculous.

  Retrieving her hand from Lowe, she gave an apologetic shrug. “Maybe some other time.”

  “Pleasure meeting you, Jeanie.” Lowe seemed sincere, and she paused to consider him again.

  Such a handsome and nice-seeming guy. If she’d met him under other circumstances, they might have become friends or… Knowing he was ass-deep in whatever Camden considered business took away from his appeal. “Likewise.”

  As she passed Camden, he snaked out a hand to capture her waist then leaned in close. “Hurry. My father will be here soon. He wants us to go to dinner with him. I’m still trying to wiggle out of it.”

  The touch of his hand sizzled heat right through her clothes, and she tried to shake off the reaction. “Will do, boss.”

  He released her, and she forced one foot in front of the other. One step at a time, the only way she could cope with all of this, she headed off to become the illusion.

  …

  Camden clenched the frame of the door, and Lowe poured a drink at the bar.

  “She’s beautiful,” Lowe said. “You didn’t mention that.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t.”

  Sleep. He really needed to get some sleep. Exhaustion left him jagged, oversensitive, like some walking exposed nerve. He wouldn’t be bothered, if he wasn’t so tired, at the tension in the room between his fake fiancée and his best friend. She was a pawn on the chessboard, and he was positioning her to pretend to be his queen—nothing more.

  “She’s attractive enough,” he said. But he knew the truth. She wasn’t beautiful in the stereotypical sense, not like the supermodels he normally dated. She wasn’t just attractive enough. She was more than enough. His lips were still on fire from the last kiss they’d shared.

  “Hmm…I can understand why you didn’t mention it. A gorgeous woman like that, no wonder you felt she was right for the job.”

  Lowe didn’t seem to notice a muscle twitched in Camden’s jaw—a good thing since he didn’t understand his response and couldn’t explain it if his friend asked.

  “I’m going to need your help to pull this off. Even if it doesn’t last long, this is going to be tricky. Also, I need you to make sure the lawyers are working double time since I bought breathing room, but not much of it.” He joined Lowe at the bar, then poured two fingers of whiskey and slung it back.

  “Understood.” Swirling his drink around, Lowe seemed lost in thought.

  “What? Say it. I can tell you’re thinking something so hard, you’re just bursting to say it.”

  “You like her.”

  Snorting, Camden slammed his glass back down on the polished wood a bit harder than he needed to. “Right place, right time. We discussed this.”

  “Any number of women might have fit the bill. You picked her.”

  Camden shrugged and paced the room. “I picked her, and now we work with it.”

  “You picked her.”

  Facing him, Camden risked eye contact. “So? I picked her.”

  “You’ve never picked any of the women of your life. Either they were handy, offered themselves up, or you knew they would piss off your father, so you dated them…or he picked them and you danced like a puppet. Her? You picked this one. You didn’t have to jump at that moment, you could have planned this out better, but you didn’t. That’s a choice, even if it was a rash one.” Lowe arched one brow, a characteristic expression. “I think it means something.”

  “Hardly.” The denial tasted like a lie.

  “Rumor has it your actual fiancée boarded a plane the minute the news of your new fiancée broke, heading back home. She hasn’t released a statement yet.”

  “Waste of her time. I’m not going to meet with her while I’ve got Jeanie installed in this position. And I don’t like Jeanie. I just met her.” He realized going back to the topic would show vulnerability…moments after the words escaped.

  “Ah, and it bugs you, liking her. Cam, I’ve known you far too long for you to lie to me. Lie to the press, lie to your Dad, do what you have to do…but you can’t bullshit a bullshitter.” Lowe toasted him before swallowing the whiskey and placing his glass on the bar.

  “I find her interesting.” Admitting it hurt nothing, he rationalized. “She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met, not so far. I’m sure it’s just the puzzle. Once I figure her out, she’ll become less interesting.”

  Lowe’s laughter rang out. “Hey, man, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  Nothing helped him sleep at night. Insomnia was his worst enemy. Not even Lowe knew that little truth. “I want you to stay away from her.” The request surprised him, as did the vehemence in his tone, but he meant it, so he rounded on Lowe to fix him with a stare. “I mean that.”

  Adjusting his tie, Lowe smirked. “As long as she’s your fiancée, I’ll keep my distance.”

  Relief flooded Camden, but he refused to consider the whys of it right then.

  Following Lowe out of the room, Camden breathed a little easier.

  As Lowe stopped, waited, and finally turned, Camden recognized his expression and knew his relief would be short-lived before Lowe even spoke. “The minute you’re split, though, she becomes fair game.”

  Camden didn’t have a response, so he didn’t answer.

  The minute they split.

  Eventually they would find a way out of this, and she would go on her way. But the thought of her then being with Lowe?

  It shouldn’t have made him jealous. But it did. And for the first time since this all started, he knew he was in trouble.

  Chapter Six

  The stranger reflected in the mirror frowned.

  Pearls accented the little black dress Camden had picked out earlier, making her neck look somewhat swanlike. The whole getup reminded Jeanie of Audrey Hepburn…You know, if Audrey had a curvy body.

  Snorting, she stuck her tongue out at the woman with the elegantly upswept hair and ruby red lips. “You still look working class, Jeanie-girl. Working class playing dress up.”

  Her reflection didn’t have a rebuttal. She didn’t want to like the makeover, wanted to be derisive of the clothes, but everything Camden picked had been clothes she might have loved to own, had she ever had the time or money to be concerned with that sort of thing.

  The door behind her opened, and she pulled a neutral expression out of her arsenal. Seeing it was only Camden, she spun and faked a smile. “Well, dah-link, I’m all dressed up. This is my beautiful people impersonation. What do you think? Will I pass for the fiancée of the Penthouse Prince?”

  “The tabloids gave me that ridiculous name. I’d love it if you could never bring it up again, thanks. And, yeah, you’ll do. Did they fix your nails? Because they looked like a manicure wasn’t something you’d even heard of.” Stalking into the room, he seemed to take up too much space, shrinking everything around him with his sheer presence. His mood, almost lighthearted earlier, had darkened for some reason while she’d primped and applied her masking glamour.

  “Nails, hair, the works. Is there anything I need to know before walking onto the stage, so to speak?”

  He tilted his head, squinting as if considering the question. “We met at the office. You dumped a coffee on me in the elevator, our gazes locked, and it was history from there. Epic love story, blah blah blah. Oh, and I proposed at sunset. Yeah
, that sounds pretty romantic. Women really get off on the death of a day.”

  She gnawed at her lip. “Very romantic. On one knee, I hope?” The rub of it was that it did sound romantic, but she couldn’t admit that to him.

  “Sure, but get all soft looking when you reminisce about it. After all, you’re madly in love with me. Oh, and I’m going to be a touchy-feely guy.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Just how touchy-feely?”

  “If I’m not, it won’t look natural. Everyone knows how I am. If I reach over for your hand, take mine and don’t flinch away. If I lean in for a kiss or to whisper, make sure you don’t tense up. Just go with it. You probably know all this, body language one-oh-one from psych class or from your own experience about falling in love, but—”

  Turning back to her reflection, she adjusted the skirt. “I’ve never taken psychology. You don’t require a degree for hiring in the call center, in case you forgot. I had some college, but when I got Kaycee, I dropped out. And I’ve never been in love. Have you?”

  “I’m not answering that.” He dropped to sit on the bed, bouncing as if testing its softness. “But the answer should be obvious, since I mentioned I was engaged.”

  She faced him, considering what he’d said. Not answering meant he didn’t want to. If the easy response would have been yes, because he was engaged, he wouldn’t have added a caveat. “Wouldn’t I know? I mean, as your fiancée, wouldn’t you have told me?”

  He surged to his feet and invaded her space. “Nope. Not my style. But I would have given you this.”

  He cracked open a blue velvet box and revealed a bed of white silk framing a sparkling, diamond-encrusted ring. Forgetting the conversation, she ran a fingertip across the ring. Lovely, probably worth a fortune, the band of white gold beckoned her.

  “It’s beautiful.” Actually, she’d never seen anything like it. If she were to pick out her engagement ring…he’d nailed it. It would be the one in the box, hands down.

  “Yeah, well, give me your hand. Let’s see how well I did at the sizing.”

  Before she could offer it, he caught her suddenly numb palm in his own and slid the ring on her finger after tossing the box back toward the bed. “It fits,” she whispered. Perfect. It fit and looked perfect.

  He kept her captive by holding her fingertips. She couldn’t lift her gaze, kept it locked on the shining thing as the air around her became too thick to breathe.

  A gentle knock interrupted the moment and brought them both back to life.

  “That would be Ruby. Dinner must be done. Shall we?” He offered his arm, and she twined her own with it. He began to escort her from the room.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?”

  His palm rested on the doorknob, but he froze, going statue-still. “The engagement? Fooling everyone? Or dinner, because it’s not really challenging when you have a chef.”

  She licked her dry lips. “You don’t think someone will see through it?”

  He nudged her back into motion and positioned her against the still closed door, facing him. She studied his tie, trying hard not to inhale his intoxicating scent. “I think the key to selling a lie is to bathe it in half truths. I think, if we’re comfortable enough together, if we smile and can’t seem to stop looking at each other, we could sell it. Can you do that? Can you focus on me and only me, like I’m the thing that makes you get up in the morning and the last thing you think of before you fall asleep?”

  Her breath seemed to come harshly, burning in her lungs. He was too close. His heat and body caged her in a cocoon of tension. She couldn’t answer, her throat suddenly too dry.

  He tilted her chin up, forced her gaze to meet his, and leaned close so their foreheads touched and his breath teased her flesh when he spoke. “Can you pretend to love me, even for a little while, Jeanie?”

  “It’s a two-way street.” Her spine straightened, and she returned his challenge, cocked her head so their lips brushed with her words. “Can you pretend to love me, Camden? Act like I’m your sun and moon and you can’t resist me? I know, challenging. I’m frumpy, after all.”

  His laugh shot electricity zinging through her blood stream and left her excited in a brittle way, like he could shatter the sensation with one wrong word. “You’re playing a dangerous game, dear. I’m willing to bet I can pull off my end. Want to make a little wager?”

  “I don’t bet.” She pulled back, impeded by the door, but gained a few precious inches of breathing room.

  “Actually, I like the idea.” His fingertip teased a trail down her cheek, then stopped after he stroked across her bottom lip. “Of course, if either of us fails, the other will cover it—keep the show going, so to speak. The challenge is to not be the one who requires a save. I’m willing to bet no one sees through me, doubts me, or questions my feelings for you. I’ll bet you…”

  He mulled it over while she tried to control her heartbeat, her breathing.

  “I’ll bet you this penthouse no one sees through my act.”

  She snorted. “So I can win this penthouse, on top of all of my pay and benefits, if I simply out lie you?”

  “Yup. I bet I can convince the world I’m madly in love with you.”

  His tender look kept her off-balance, and she knew she couldn’t beat him at his kind of game. He practiced lying, daily. Seduction? Easy for him. The tabloids told the story of his conquests—from actresses to one short fling with an actual princess—and they were many.

  “What do you get? If I lose, I mean?”

  He ducked his head, nibbling at her ear until she shivered.

  He is good—too good.

  “What do you have that I want, little fiancée?”

  The knock sounded, again, from the other side of the door, and Jeanie jumped, which put her in full contact with the length of him. She gasped, prepared to pull back, but he held her close. “I don’t have anything you want. I don’t have money, or things, or…”

  “If I win, you’ll marry me.”

  Her laugh broke free and snapped the tension, even though she still lounged in his embrace. “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’m serious.” He looked serious.

  She smacked his shoulder and scoffed, “That’s stupid. Why would you want that?”

  “I have to get married anyway. Why not make it a simple business arrangement? No nasty emotions to get in the way…it’s perfect. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it eons ago.” He seemed to be considering, almost weighing benefits against downfalls, while she watched.

  “You want to bet on your marital status?”

  He nodded, releasing her. He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, actually, I do.”

  “I—” She searched for reasons, ways to point out the stupidity of his plan. “Wait, unless you’re so sure you can’t possibly win?” It seemed ludicrous, but what other reason could he…“How would I even know you’d keep up your end of the deal?”

  “Um, because I don’t want to lose my house.” He held his hand out and raised both brows. “So what you should be asking yourself right now is, ‘Do I want to risk happily ever after with this man for a chance to winning the best real estate in the city?’ If the answer is yeah, and you’ve got some balls about you, shake on it.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t think, Jeanie. Bet or don’t bet, but don’t waffle. It’s unattractive.”

  She blew out a breath and clamped her hand in his. “It’s a bet. I’m going to kick your ass, Camden James. I will out-love you, fair and square. Just do me one favor? Don’t cry when you have to fork over your house.” Her heart raced, and her palm broke out in sweat, but she didn’t waver.

  He jerked her hand once, his smile fast and more charming than he deserved. “Rule number one, little fiancée: never shake on a deal until you hash out the details. You didn’t put any qualifiers on the marriage. This might be a mistake you later regret.”

  “Only if I lose…and I don’t intend to lose.”

  “Let the games begin
.”

  With that, he opened the door and graciously allowed her to pass.

  And she wondered, for the second time that day, what in the hell she’d gotten herself into.

  Chapter Seven

  When he’d disagreed with Lowe earlier regarding the appeal of his hired date, he’d somehow convinced himself she wasn’t beautiful. Striking seemed a more apt word, at least prior to her makeover.

  After the makeover? He couldn’t deny it—Jeanie wasn’t just beautiful. She was gorgeous. Something about her filled his head with adjectives he’d never found apt in describing a woman before. Words like lovely, graceful, elegant, and mysterious. Not to mention sexy. Watching her from across the table, he wouldn’t dream of denying his attraction. He’d not admit it to her or anyone else, but he could at least be honest with himself.

  He didn’t entirely believe his father got called away right as the help served dinner, but he didn’t point it out to Jeanie. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, sipped a glass of water, and watched her revel in the meal.

  Lowe left before dessert—a perfect tiramisu—landed on the table, leaving Camden alone with the refined blonde who’d replaced the woman he’d hijacked into engagement. Without an audience, she visibly relaxed and dropped her act as if it were no more than a night wrap to be cast aside. Her casual comfort in his presence, after their short acquaintance, shocked him a bit. It might be another illusion, but he actually believed she might trust him.

  Ironic, considering they were together perpetuating the biggest lie of his life.

  But it felt good to be trusted. No one else trusted him, not even Lowe, and he was an old college buddy. Everyone knew what Camden could do and guarded themselves. Not that he blamed them.

  She might not be high class, she might not be accustomed to the so-called finer things, but her pleasure in the meal and her ease of slipping into the role he gave her fascinated him. Almost as much as the speed she’d dropped it…

  Licking her fork, her eyes rolled back and her cheeks flushed. He hardened, longing to shove the tablecloth and food onto the floor so he could yank her onto the polished mahogany tabletop and see if her reaction to him could match her response to coffee flavored dessert. The whiplash of desire left him shifting in his seat, tapping the table in conflicted confusion. One part of him wanted to satisfy his physical needs while the other reveled in the unfamiliar sensation of someone comfortable in his presence.