Love Connection

by Crimson Romance

  As though reading her mind, he shot her a grin, which unfortunately sent a jolt of awareness straight through to her core. “Don’t worry about a thing, cupcake. I won’t try to pounce on you just because we have to share a bed.” Surely, that sexy rasp hadn’t always been in his voice.

  “I was thinking I’d take the couch, actually.” To her horror, she sounded prim and uptight, not breezy and casual like she’d intended.

  He scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Between the traveling and the meeting, we’ll be exhausted when we finally get to crash tonight and there’s plenty of room for two. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” Before she could protest again, his voice dropped an octave and he added, “Unless you don’t want me to be.”

  She sputtered, her mind unable to form coherent thought through a cloud of lust and shock. “What?” Oh, that was brilliant.

  His lips curved into a sly grin. “You heard me.”

  “Let’s just get ready for this meeting.” He was teasing her, and she couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in some silly fantasy where they ended up together. Things were different between them because they were away from home, and she wouldn’t start to believe in the illusion. Keeping work and romance separate was a good policy, and nothing had changed. She crossed the hotel room, giving him a wide berth. The sooner they got out of there, the better.

  • • •

  Carly relaxed a bit as she walked with Michael down the hall to the elevator, relieved to be out of the room and the uncomfortable intimacy of sharing such a small space alone. If her attraction to him was evident now, at least they were pretending to be a couple, and he wouldn’t suspect her feelings were real. She joined him in the elevator and allowed herself the tiniest moment to enjoy his decadent fragrance, surprised at how luxurious and masculine he smelled. Like bergamot and leather. Delicious. As the doors shut, he closed the distance between them, and Carly let her handbag slip to the floor, as though hypnotized.

  Michael was close enough to touch, so near that she could feel the faint heat radiating from his body, and his low voice rumbled through her. “Don’t panic, but I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Oh.” It was all she could manage, trapped in his orbit as she was. His eyes were like emeralds, sharp and brilliant, as she looked up to see the desire she’d been battling reflected on his face. Maybe if they kissed, she’d find that he wasn’t as irresistible as she’d thought and her ill-advised attraction could be shelved. Wait, they had kissed, and it was a disaster last time. Though every piece of her begged her to lean in, she stepped back. “No you’re not,” she whispered, unable to find her voice.

  He glanced at the floor buttons, lighting up one by one as they approached the lobby. “Listen, cupcake, when those doors open, do you want the paparazzi to see a couple in love or two game show judges?”

  Well, he had a point, and as long as their boundaries were clear, there was probably no harm in one little kiss. She had a business to build, one that would only benefit from her fake celebrity romance.

  “All right,” she managed to consent.

  Michael needed no further encouragement. Before she could catch another breath, her face was cupped in his hands and he was looking deeply into her eyes. This was much more intimate than she’d pictured, already more satisfying and romantic than the raw, animal experience she’d imagined. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and his lips landed on hers, soft and warm, tentative even. She snaked her arms around his waist, faintly registering how firm the muscles beneath his clothes were, and pulled herself against him. His hands were in her hair, and a low moan rumbled in his chest. Their breath intermingled, warm and full of possibility, and Carly raked her fingertips against his back, stopping herself short of pulling his shirt out of his waistband.

  Realizing how close she was to following through on her fantasy, she pulled back enough to keep her hands to herself. The doors whooshed open, and flashbulbs went off. He was right. The paparazzi loved a show, and they’d delivered. Michael’s lips curled into a satisfied smile and he dropped a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her into his arms. She could hear his heartbeat with her face pressed to his broad chest, and she melted against him. Giving into her attraction wasn’t the wisest idea, but she’d worry about what it all meant—and how to handle it when they were back in the real world—later. Surely once the ruse ended, her feelings would, too.

  • • •

  Michael sat next to Carly at a table in a busy Mexican restaurant, surrounded by Sugar Shock’s staff members, only a couple of which he remembered from their time on the show. The executive producer, Jules Miller, ordered pitchers of margaritas for the table and leaned forward on her elbows, eyes gleaming with excitement.

  “So, when we heard that not only are you two working together on the celebrity wedding of the year, but that you’re also an actual real-life couple, we just had to ask you back for an appearance. We couldn’t resist the angle, of course, since you kind of hated each other on the show, but now you’re clearly in love.” Jules dipped a tortilla chip into salsa and took a tiny bite.

  “It’ll be fun to be on the show again. What exactly did you have in mind for us?” Michael gave his practiced showbiz smile to the producer.

  “Our special Valentine’s episode is coming up, and we’ll have the current semifinalists doing either wedding cakes or something on theme for the holiday. We haven’t finalized the plans yet, but the focus will be on romance. You two will stand in as judges for the episode.”

  A waiter arrived and passed out glasses for everyone, then took their orders as pitchers of margaritas were passed around. Chatter from the conversations swirling through the restaurant grew louder as the evening wore on. Michael inched closer to Carly, knowing that it might make her uncomfortable, but wanting to remain true to the image they were presenting. After he’d practically assaulted her with that kiss in the elevator, sitting close to him at dinner was probably child’s play for her. While they chatted with producers, he put an arm around her shoulders and casually rubbed the skin exposed by her sleeveless dress with his thumb. Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she didn’t shirk out of his reach for once.

  Kissing her at the hotel was probably a mistake, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why he’d done it. Sure, he told himself that the extra attention would help strengthen their story and bolster their appeal, but that was a flimsy excuse, one that Carly was sure to see right through. She was barely amenable to the charade as it was, and he’d taken one of the few safe places they had and swooped in on her like an overzealous frat boy. If they had any hope of making it through this trip without slipping up, he’d have to be more careful. The heat between them felt real enough, and she’d certainly kissed him like she meant it, but one kiss wouldn’t likely change the way she felt. She’d made no secret of her opinion of him, and he’d have to disregard the wild attraction he felt for her.

  “Will our decision be final?” Carly asked as she looked up and made room for the waiter to deposit her plate. She poked at rice and beans with her fork while Jules answered.

  “We’ll record a few different scenarios and use the one our regular judges agree with. Your comments and contestant feedback will be very valuable, but it’s only fair to have consistency in the contest.”

  “So, it’s all just for show? We’ll be judging, but it won’t count?” Her voice was casual, probably deliberately cool, but she speared a slice of avocado with more force than was necessary.

  “It’s not that it won’t matter, but your appearance is more for content than for the competition portion. We thought it would be fun and romantic to have a couple that met on our show come on for the Valentine’s episode. You two will be interviewed, both individually and together, and we’ll try to find some good footage from your time here, that kind of thing. I’d like to highlight how much things have changed between the two of you since you met, so we’re hoping to find some juicy clips. We wanted to catch up with contestants from past season
s, and having you two highlight your romance will be completely organic. That won’t be manipulated for results, but the contest itself should be consistent.”

  “That sounds great.” Michael hoped Carly would let it go without argument. They were in no position to judge a reality show, after all. He found her knee under the table and gave it a light squeeze. Her eyes closed for a second, and she leaned closer to him, accepting a light kiss on her temple.

  “We’d like to get some footage of you two together outside of the episode as well. Do you remember Eric Macintosh from when you two were on?” So it was the same guy who had hit on all the female contestants. “He’s busy this evening finalizing the plans for your dates out on location. He’s a genius at finding the perfect situations for our contestants, so I’m sure he’ll set up something amazing for you two.” She took a bite of her dinner and dabbed her lips with a napkin.

  It shouldn’t be too difficult for them to act natural on a staged date, but after that crazy kiss in the elevator, Carly probably needed a chance to process what was happening. Surely she was still reeling from the shock of him pouncing on her and would appreciate a reprieve. They were clearly convincing everyone at the table that their relationship was real, but he didn’t want to push her too far.

  “I guess we could do that. What do you think, babe?” Whatever she was comfortable with, they’d do. They’d only agreed to appear on the show, so if she was really opposed to the date, he’d try to get them out of it.

  “I wouldn’t mind a low-key date, I guess. It’s kind of weird, having cameras follow us outside of the show, but I’ll do whatever we need to do.” She sipped her margarita, and a tiny fleck of salt from the rim clung to her lip, making him want to lick it off.

  The producer beamed. “Wonderful. We’ll make the arrangements, and all you two need to do is show up tomorrow.”

  • • •

  There was nothing left to do with their evening but retire to their suite, so there was no way Carly could avoid facing Michael alone any longer. No errands, no meetings, nothing could postpone the inevitable. For the past few hours, it had felt less like pretending and more like real-life, and if they didn’t snap out of it soon, Carly wasn’t sure she’d ever want to slip out of the charade. She reminded herself again that her attraction to him was influenced by his boyfriendlike behavior and would likely be short-lived. Once they were back home, he’d be back to the guy she loved to hate.

  His hand landed at the small of her back, and she suppressed a tiny shiver as they walked toward the hotel elevators. As the doors closed, his hand dropped and he stepped away, giving her the space he probably thought she wanted. She couldn’t let him know that she missed his touch as soon as he withdrew his hand, that nothing felt more natural. She let out a breath and mentally willed the elevator to get them upstairs faster. The sooner they were alone, the sooner they could drop the charade for the night. If only he wasn’t standing so close. And why did it bother her that he was keeping his hands to himself during this elevator ride?

  The hallway was blessedly empty when they arrived at their floor, and Michael unlocked the door and let them into the room without touching her again. He kept his distance once they were in the dim, hushed room, the air conditioner’s soft whirring the only sound. As she watched him move around the room, completely at ease, she wondered why she’d let herself think that the kiss meant anything. He wasn’t even looking in her direction as he picked up the remote control and dropped down onto the suite’s little couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Michael absentmindedly flipped through channels, his eyes trained on the television screen, obviously unaffected by the situation. Closing her eyes briefly, she could remember his hot lips on hers, the way her body had instantly responded to him. She could even recall how his mouth had tasted of warm cinnamon. Now she wondered if it wasn’t all her imagination.

  Alone in the bathroom, she ran her hands over her body. How could she have thought that someone who literally dated fashion models would go for her? She was pretty enough, sure, but taste-testing everything came with the price of several extra pounds. Her hair was a gorgeous, wild shade of red, but it was stuck in limbo, its limp waves neither straight nor bouncy curls. Michael was tall, toned, and muscular. She was short, soft, and curvy.

  Dressed in a modestly cut sleep shirt, and figuring she couldn’t stall any longer, she tiptoed out of the bathroom, hoping to slip into bed without further discussion. Michael was talking quietly into his phone, engrossed in his conversation, and snapped to attention when the bathroom door closed behind her.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She cringed and hurried past him to the far side of the bed.

  He smiled and held up a finger.

  “She’s here right now, Jen.” He laughed. “Maybe I can get an autograph for you or something. Okay, I’ll try to check in again soon, but you can call Aunt Jane if you need anything that can’t wait.”

  Sitting up, he turned the television off, and Carly pushed away a fantasy of curling up on his lap. This was truly getting out of hand if the sight of him using a remote turned her on. “Good night, sleep tight.” He ended the call. “That was my sister. I just needed to check in and make sure our aunt visited with her today. She doesn’t necessarily need a visit every day, but I try to stop by anyway. It’s a little strange for her when I’m away.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet of you to do that.”

  “It’s nothing, really. I don’t want her to feel abandoned in the assisted living place. They have activities for her there, and she has her own friends and routine, but nothing can replace family. She was especially excited to hear that her favorite Sugar Shock contestant Carly Piper was here with me.”

  “What? She remembers me from the show? That was years ago!”

  “She watches our season all the time.” Michael grinned. “I’m pretty sure she thinks you should’ve won instead of me.”

  “Well, I can tell that she’s a really smart girl. You should bring her by Caketopia when we get home. I’d love to meet her.”

  He stood and stretched, and Carly’s heart sank at how quickly her eyes moved to the sliver of skin exposed when his shirt rode up. Knowing how warm and hard his body was, her fingers itched to touch him again, to have his lips pressed against hers. Summoning her last shred of dignity, she pulled the comforter back and slipped into bed, careful to stay as close to the edge as she could. When she’d thought he was a wild playboy, bent on using his celebrity to bed as many women as he could, it was easy to ignore any attraction. Seeing his devotion to family, as fierce and loyal as her own, was bad news. It made it too easy for feelings to develop, too easy to fall for a man who wasn’t interested.

  Michael lifted one eyebrow. “Do you think you’re close enough to the edge?”

  She scooted toward the center a few inches and attempted a confident voice. “Better?” If only she didn’t sound so buttoned-up. He must think she was absolutely ridiculous.

  “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” To her relief and disappointment, he wasn’t teasing her. She could handle the mocking, annoying Michael she knew. His respect and kindness was unnerving new territory.

  Yes, please, sleep on the couch. “No, of course not. We’re both adults, so I think we can sleep in the same bed without making a big deal out of it. Besides, we both need a good night’s sleep before the big date tomorrow.”

  “Cool. I’ll be back in a minute.” He was casual, unconcerned with whether or not they shared a bed. She was the only one overthinking every little detail.

  As he turned to walk toward the bathroom, Carly smoothed the sheets and comforter over her, stopping just short of tucking herself in. She blew a gentle breath up toward the ceiling, wishing that she could look away, but unable to force her gaze away from Michael’s back. His fitted t-shirt moved against his muscles as he walked, driving her wild with curiosity about what that back looked like under the clothes. As warmth crept into her cheeks, she darted her glan
ce away only to land squarely on his butt. The cutest butt she’d seen in a long time. If he came back out in anything but the rattiest, baggiest clothes, she’d be in trouble.

  The few minutes it took Michael to brush his teeth and get ready for bed stretched out into an eternity. Carly couldn’t decide if she wanted him to stay in the bathroom or come out and get it over with. If only he would make one of his cheesy comments or act like a pig or something. Anything. Just a chauvinist remark, something to put them back on familiar ground. Though now that she thought of it, Michael wasn’t a chauvinist. He was cocky, larger than life, annoying to be sure, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Now wasn’t the time to realize that though. Now was the time to remember that this trip, this experience, was not real life.

  The door opened, and he came out in loose sleep pants that hung low on his hips, and, Carly noted as her throat dried up, no shirt. Tucking the sheet up under her arms, she reminded herself to breathe as she took in his bronze skin, tapered waist, and muscles. How was it that he had a body like that, muscled and defined, while she actually looked like she taste-tested her work every day? He moved around the suite, turning off lights, and shot her a sexy grin when he noticed her watching his every move. She cleared her throat and snuggled further under the blankets, wishing she could burrow underneath completely.

  After turning off his bedside lamp, he slid under the sheets, close enough to touch. “Good night, Carly. Sleep tight.”