by Marian Tee
A strangled gasp escaped Merry just as Jane choked.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us.” Christian’s tone was impatient. “I need to speak to my girlfriend in private.”
They walked away, and for the first few minutes Jane struggled with her shock – and the rather disturbing sensation of having his arm around her waist for such a long time.
If he kept his arm around her too long, Jane had a feeling her waist would eventually disintegrate and he’d end up cutting her torso in half.
She stole a look at him.
Still enthralling, Jane thought absently, but terrifyingly unreadable.
When they walked all the way out of AMC headquarters, she thought faintly, I’m going AWOL. Today was still a work day, after all, never mind if they had only been asked to go to work to celebrate Employee Appreciation Day.
One of the valets brought his car around – a staid, black BMW – and Christian opened the door for her.
“Thanks.” Jane’s voice was awkward. She wasn’t used to having the door held for her.
She tried to contain herself as Christian started driving, but the silence was driving her crazy, and she finally coughed, several times, until the man finally took the hint and glanced at her.
“Where are we going?”
“My home.”
And then nothing again.
She coughed.
Christian slanted an amused glance towards her. “You don’t need my permission to talk, pet. Just talk.”
Easier said than done, Jane thought. She almost started coughing again but caught herself in time. So she cleared her throat instead---
Christian rolled his eyes, but she pretended not to see it, asking, “Is Christian really your name?”
Christian’s azure eyes flashed.
I should shut up now, Jane thought. That was what his eyes were telling her.
But her tongue still ended up running away from her.
“Like…50 Shades?”
A muscle started ticking at his jaw. “That’s exactly why,” he said sharply, “I don’t like giving my name.”
Oh.
“Everyone starts thinking I’m this whip-holding guy the moment they hear my name, and people keep asking me about this gray room.”
“Red,” Jane corrected automatically.
“I don’t bloody care.”
She couldn’t help peeking at his expression, asking, “Does that mean you haven’t watched the movie?”
“Not even if my life depended on it.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned. “So that’s why you wanted me to call you ‘baby.’”
Christian stared at her blankly.
“In the book, you see, he has this popular line – ‘laters, baby.’” She gave him an apologetic look. “So if you’ve ever used ‘baby’ with another girl, then it’s only going to make them think of Christian Gray more.”
Three seconds passed before Christian spoke in a voice laced with quiet fury.
“Fuck.”
Jane choked out a laugh.
A discomfited look suddenly crossed Christian’s face. “I beg your pardon. I normally don’t swear this much.”
“That’s okay,” she reassured him. “I swear in every mood there is.”
He smiled. “You’re even funnier than I remembered.”
Oh.
OH!
She asked with ill-contained hope, “How do you feel about clowns?”
Christian shuddered. “They creep the hell out of me.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped.
“Why did you ask?” Christian was puzzled.
“Nothing important.” She hurriedly sought to change the subject again. “Umm…are you really friends with the CEO?”
He smirked. “You don’t believe me?”
Jane said slowly, “You don’t look like the type to lie about that so I guess…” And then it started to sink in.
Christian was friends with the CEO of the company she worked for.
Her gaze flew to Christian, and she asked uneasily, “Is there any way that you’ve told our CEO anything that could get me in trouble?”
“Trouble?” Christian sounded puzzled once more.
“My job in jeopardy,” she spelled out. “My employment terminated, my ass fired---”
“Ah.”
She asked doggedly, “Well?”
“I wonder what Jared would say if he finds out one of his employees tried seducing his friend within minutes of meeting---”
“I did not seduce you,” she protested.
“Then asked for a snog?” His tone was mockingly polite. “Is that better?”
Shit. What the hell did a snog mean anyway? But did it even matter?
“You’re going to get me sacked,” Jane said gloomily. “Aren’t you?”
“It depends.”
Her heart jumped to her throat at the ominous-sounding words.
Oh no.
This couldn’t be---
She started babbling. “I’m sorry. You must have the wrong idea about me, and really, I don’t blame you for it, but I’m actually not – I don’t have the guts to do most things, okay?” She was beginning to lose her breath, with how fast she was talking.
But she had to keep going.
“The only reason why I was able to approach you – and I swear that was the first ever time I did it – it was all because of a dare. It’s my weakness. I can’t say no to dares, like it’s not in my DNA. But that’s the extent of my courage. So if you’re thinking you can blackmail me to do some corporate espionage---”
“Jane, breathe.”
Oh!
And so she did, not realizing that she hadn’t actually drawn a breath while talking her tongue off.
“And also – corporate espionage?” Christian grinned. “You’ve quite the imagination, haven’t you?” He shook his head. “Can’t all this be an elaborate ploy so I could ask you out?”
She blinked. “Umm…” She tried thinking of the perfect wording, but nothing came so she just blurted out, “You do know I’m not stupid, don’t you? If you had really wanted to ask me out, you’d have done so the first time we met.”
Christian’s lips slowly curved into a smile. “If I say it’s not you, it’s me---”
“I’d say I honestly want to believe you, but, well.” Jane shrugged uncomfortably. “You really suck at lying.”
Christian laughed.
At least telling the truth didn’t make him mad, Jane thought, relieved.
“That’s too bad then,” Christian murmured with a sigh.
“I know---”
“Since lying is exactly what you and I need to do if you don’t want me to reveal the truth about us to that rather---” Christian’s stiff upper lip made a sudden appearance. “---grotty woman.”
“Grotty?”
“Repulsive.”
Her eyes widened.
He thought Merry was repulsive?
Oh my God, the man did have standards like he said!
But---
Had he just blackmailed her?
Christian was gazing at her patiently, as if waiting for her to realize that she was still skating on thin ice.
Shit.
“What exactly do you want me to lie about?” Jane asked warily, all the while wondering what the Women of Dares would say about her current predicament.
Be careful about what you wished for?
She had asked for something interesting, after all.
“Us,” Christian said silkily. “It’s the both of us who need to lie.”
“Okay, fine. What do the both of us need to lie about?”
“Nothing too ornery,” Christian murmured. “You only need to pretend that we have a good enough relationship for us to marry---”
“Excuse me?”
“If it helps,” Christian drawled, “then I dare you to marry me.”
Chapter Four
A thin, gold tablet was placed next to each button on the elevator,
and on the very top was the word Penthouse, next to C. Ravenhearst.
So that was his last name, Jane thought. It definitely sounded British, but more than that, the name Christian Ravenhearst didn’t sound like the ideal match for someone whose name was as ordinary as Jane Cooper.
So that should tell her, right?
The elevator whipped them to the sixty-fifth floor in a few minutes, and when the doors slid open, Jane felt like she was stepping into a world where only the most elegant living beings could exist. An enormous crystal chandelier, suspended from the twenty-foot-tall ceilings, illuminated the living area, which was dominated by white velvet cushions and a frosted glass center table. Priceless artwork hung on the wall while expensive vases graced the mantel that served as a divider between the sleek entertainment system and the brick-paneled digital fireplace.
It was, in a word, breathtaking, and made Jane feel like she was trespassing. “Maybe,” she heard herself say, “I should come back another time.”
“Why?”
“Your home’s amazing.” She paused. “So much so I think I should only come here when my outfit costs five digits.”
He coughed.
“Oh, please. Don’t feel like you need to ask for my permission either.” Jane didn’t hesitate to throw his words back at him, saying sweetly, “Just laugh.”
But Christian’ gorgeous features were once again marked with nothing but courtesy. “May I get you anything to drink?”
“Coffee would be nice,” she said after a moment. “As long as it’s not black.”
“Excellent. Follow me please.” Christian flashed a smile that was distractingly sexy, and she hastily lowered her gaze before she ended up gaping.
Christian’s kitchen was just as elegant as the rest of his penthouse, with marble cabinets and drawers on one side, and induction stoves and other state-of-the-art appliances on another. A ten-foot-long island with a marble countertop was built at the center, surrounded by white velvet stools.
“Have a seat, pet.”
The words should have made her feel she was being patronized, but strangely…it didn’t. Maybe it was because of how harsh he had been with Merry?
Swinging her stool around so she could follow his movements, she belatedly noticed the professional-grade espresso machine in the corner, and asked curiously, “Aren’t English people supposed to be into tea?”
“I like it enough,” Christian answered with a shrug, “but I’ve found myself gravitating towards tea at a rather early age.”
Gravitating, she repeated in her mind, more than a little impressed. Was that a product of a fancy British education?
Her eyes widened when he switched the machine on. “You know how to use it?”
“It’s in my kitchen, isn’t it?”
“I thought it was just for show, or you had a butler or something.”
Christian only rolled his eyes.
‘Nuff said, she translated with a grimace.
When he presented her with a cup of caramel macchiato---
Jane choked.
It even had coffee art, and pretty intricate at that!
“I hate you,” she said without heat as he took a seat next to her. She reached for her coffee and took a slow sip.
It tasted perfect.
“I do really hate you.”
Christian leaned back, asking lazily, “Why?”
“Because you’re perfect,” she answered unhesitatingly, “which means you can be yourself.”
“Are you not being yourself with me?”
“I am, but…” She wrinkled her nose. “You’re more an exception than the rule. I was able to be myself with you because we weren’t supposed to meet---” She broke off.
“The workings of destiny,” Christian murmured.
“Or maybe fate just had a bad case of diarrhea and thought it would be fun if it threw us together for a loop.”
Christian chuckled. “I’ve never had this much fun with a woman.”
“I’ve heard that from other guys, too,” Jane shared. “But guess what? It’s Merry who---” She broke off again and stared at her now half-empty cup. “What the hell is in this?” She had never been this talkative with anyone outside her family and three-member-circle of friends.
“Truth serum,” Christian volunteered.
Jane glared at her macchiato. “I knew it.”
Christian suddenly reached for the cup, and before she knew it, her fingers were following its ascent as she found herself helping him take a sip.
“There,” Christian told her when they put the cup down. “We’re even.”
Oh.
“Do you care to ask me anything then?”
She drank the last of her coffee as she mulled his question over. Finally, she asked, “Why do you need a fake fiancée?”
“I don’t.”
Christian bared his teeth in a smile that somehow made Jane want to lean away.
“What I need is a wife, and the fake part is negotiable.”
Jane blinked, but Christian calmly returned her gaze.
“I think I need another cup of coffee,” Jane said faintly, “and this time, black will do.”
“Coming right up.” But when Christian returned to the table, he had presented her with another macchiato, and it was decaf.
Jane gave him a dour look. “Really? What am I? Five?”
“Too much truth serum will kill you,” was the placid reply.
She gave the coffee a sip.
Mm.
Not as bad as most decafs, she acknowledged reluctantly.
“Good, isn’t it?”
Jane shrugged. Bad behavior was never to be reinforced with positive words. Christian Ravenhearst had to learn early on that she did not do decaf. “Anyway…we were talking about---” She suddenly couldn’t say it.
“My fake wife?”
She nodded.
“It’s mainly due to the fact that I’ve become inundated---”
Jane coughed.
He paused.
“Can I just say you have the most awesome vocabulary?”
“Noted, ma’am, and thank you,” he drawled.
“Carry on, sir,” she drawled back.
His lips twitched, but he continued, “I’ve recently become inundated with invitations, and the majority of them translate to social obligations that the board of my corporation would rather I didn’t ignore. These invitations were a result of one of my recent products enjoying breakthrough success.”
“Okaaaay…then?”
“Have you heard about H?”
Jane’s eyes widened. “The game?”
He nodded.
“What about it?” Then she paused. “Oh.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh my God – you made H?” And then she frowned. “But I thought this other corporation---”
“A dummy corporation,” he revealed, “put up for the sole purpose of acting as my spokesperson. It’s an open secret, however, which is why there are instances when it’s my presence that’s specifically required.”
His lips compressed. “And that’s where the problem comes into the picture. I dislike attending any kind of public event. I have a rather hard time controlling my temper when I’m confronted with individuals I find contemptible.”
She thought about Merry. “That’s an understatement.”
He acknowledged the words with a rather arrogant nod. “The board worries that I will end up alienating more people than our company can afford to.” And then he looked at her.
“I still don’t get what you need a wife for,” Jane confessed. “Can’t you just hire a P.R. guy---”
“I have done that on numerous occasions, but I always end up firing them.”
Temper, Jane thought again.
“I eventually realized that the conventional setup wouldn’t work for me. Moreover, I need someone who I won’t merely tolerate.”
The weight of his azure stare made Jane straighten involuntarily, anxiety prickling under her skin.
> “It has to be someone I also trust to speak her mind to me.”
And he believed I was that person, Jane wondered numbly.
Jane Cooper, a woman who could be trusted to speak her mind?
As if sensing her uncertainty, Christian murmured, “When I marry you---”
She shook her head. “IF I marry you---”
“When I convince you that marrying me is a matter of ‘when,’ you will be my perfect foil.”
She shook her head more profusely. “No, I won’t.”
“Yes, pet.” Christian’s words took on an unshakable resolve. “You will. You are good with people.”
“No.” Jane was beginning to feel guilty. “Are you sure you have the right woman?” Had she somehow misled Christian about who she was? Was it because she had asked him to make out with her?
“Please, pet. I’m not the type to make such mistakes---” His voice lowered. “Especially not when it comes to you.”
Listening to his voice, feeling his words, had Jane feeling like she was in a trance, and she found herself halfway to believing him.
“When I meet new people, most of the time I either feel a lack of empathy or contempt. But you were different.” One corner of Christian’s lips went up as he murmured, “You had this feel about you I rarely sense in other people, a way of looking at the world.”
Jane slowly closed her eyes, feeling like she was being serenaded even though her mind told her she was being silly.
“A way of looking at yourself…”
“And whatever it was, it made me pay attention, and that rarely happens.”
Her eyes opened, and her breathing became uneven when she found Christian gazing at her intensely.
“Trust me, pet. You’re good with people.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. His words painted a picture of herself that Jane didn’t recognize, but oh – was it bad that she wanted it to be true?
“You’ll be perfect in keeping everyone off my back, but you’ll also be able to keep me in line if necessary.”
“When,” Jane couldn’t resist pointing out sweetly. “Now’s the time you should use ‘when.’”
She thought she had scored with that, but then he smirked. “You’re already doing it now.”