“Ha, ha,” I say, but my heart skips a beat.
“Is being my fiancée what you thought it would be?”
“I’ve never been engaged, so I don’t have anybody to compare you to…” I grin. “But you’re doing fine. Better than I could’ve expected.”
“Really? Even though I’ve never given you an engagement ring?”
“Oh, my gosh!” I gasp, forgetting about covering my chest as my hands fly to my mouth. “I forgot.”
“I guessed you had.” He chuckles. “But I didn’t. My fiancée deserves an audaciously, insanely expensive ring.”
“But I would never—”
“…Feel comfortable wearing something like that,” he finishes. “Yes, I know. But this coming weekend isn’t about you, is it? And it isn’t about your comfort.”
“I thought you said you’d never make me wear something that would make me feel uncomfortable?” I tease.
His eyes twinkle. “I think we agreed to no porn star fetish clothes. But I don’t remember any discussions about impressive rings.”
I shrug. “Okay. Why not? It’s all pretend, anyway. I don’t know what I’m thinking. You’re being so generous. Thank you.”
He slides a hand into the back pocket of his pants.
I gape at him. “Wait. Now? I didn’t think you were going to give it to me now!”
“Give it to you?” He arches an eyebrow. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
“Or maybe I’m not talking dirty, you just have a nasty mind.” Whoa. Did I just say that?
I guess I did, since his smile widens, and grows more wicked. “It’s all your fault. I feel downright filthy whenever you’re around.”
“Down, boy.” I giggle, flushing all over.
“You’re right, of course. This is a very serious event.” He clears his throat, wiping all traces of a smile off his face. “I’m asking my fake fiancée to marry me, after all.”
“This is the most romantic situation of my entire life,” I deadpan.
He bursts out laughing. “You’re ruining the moment I’ve been carefully practicing for a lifetime.”
I mime zipping my lips shut and throwing the key over the balcony.
“Dani Saber will you be my fake fiancée this weekend?”
“Yes. A million times, yes.” I clutch my hands together like a princess in a Disney movie, and flutter my eyelashes as if I’m about to swoon.
A wry smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “All right, smart ass. Here you are.” He pulls out the small, velvet box and flips it open to reveal a ring which makes my jaw drop.
It sparkles like a star from a dark surface. My heart stops for a second. I reach for it, then I pull my hand back.
“Why did you do that?” he asks, taking the ring from the box.
“Do what?”
“You pulled back at the last moment.”
“I—I, nothing.”
“You wanted it didn’t you?”
I cross my arms and shrug. “It’s a very beautiful ring. That would have been a normal reaction for any woman.”
He stares at me. “No it was more than that. It stirred something in you, didn’t it? You denied yourself what you want in the depths of your heart.” He smiles gently. “Rightly so, seeing as how it was one of the rings I liked best when I went to Tiffany’s today.”
“You said you had to work.”
“Buying a ring is work for me,” he says dryly. He takes my hand and holds it up, positioning the ring at my fingertip. “I must warn you; this ring isn’t one of the things you can keep. It’s on loan.”
“I understand.” I wouldn’t even know what to do with it once I got home, anyway. What would I do with a zillion carat emerald-cut diamond? The insurance alone would bankrupt me.
He pushes the band along my finger. Once the cool platinum band is in place, he pats the back of my hand, in an almost fatherly gesture.
I look up at him and our eyes lock as all of a sudden—the mood changes. How freaking bizarre, but this doesn’t feel fake. I must be going mad. The wine. Of course, the wine. Obviously, this isn’t real. He clearly said, the ring has to go back.
He raises my hand to his lips. “You deserve a ring like this,” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin. “And you deserve to know what it feels like to not hold yourself back from what you want deep in your heart.”
I can’t breathe. I’ll never breathe again. God, why can’t this be real? Why can’t I really have something like this? Someone like him?
He lowers my hand and looks deep into my eyes, moving closer until the warmth of his body and the scent of his skin are the only things in the world. Not even the massive engagement ring matters right now. Nothing does except Brock and the web of breathless desire he’s weaving around me.
When he catches my lower lip between his own, I lean into the kiss and let him wash over me. I can’t believe this. It’s not just a kiss—oh, no. That would be like comparing the piece of meat he gave me at dinner to the steak I grew up eating. It’s on an entirely different level. An entirely different plane of existence. His mouth on mine, moving slowly. Drawing it out. Making me groan from a place deep down in my center, a place only he’s ever been able to touch. All through one simple, firm but gentle kiss.
It stays gentle for only so long.
When he knows how darn affected I am, his hands slide around my waist until they’re pressing into my back and pulling my body closer to his. I feel him so acutely through the satin, and he can feel me. My skin warms at his touch and I wind my arms around his neck to hold on as he slowly drives me crazy and my knees go too weak to keep me standing. His tongue slides along the opening of my mouth before probing inside, exploring me as fireworks go off in my head. He groans, his hands pressing harder, the need between us growing like a fire which threatens to consume us both.
I want it to.
Yes, I want it with every fiber of my being. I want his hands on me and his lips, oh, his lips, his tongue and all of it. All of him. All night long and into the morning, again and again. I want to touch him everywhere and taste his skin and listen as he whispers my name in the darkness. My entire body seems to sizzle, and my nerve endings feel like they dancing and singing. Every cell in my body is desperate for satisfaction. But no. There will be none tonight.
I can’t.
We can’t.
My eyes fly open.
It takes every ounce of strength in my body and soul to pull away. It has to be done. We can’t take this any further, because he loves somebody else. He still loves her. Whoever she is. And I won’t be the woman who gets used and hurt. Not like this. Not when I know his heart is pining for another woman and I’m just a body in the dark.
He’s breathing heavily, nearly panting, and his erection is so strong I fear it will break the zipper of his slacks. I’m already wet, was from the moment our lips met, but the sight of his hard on makes me crave him inside me.
“We can’t do this.” I gasp, shaking my head, stepping away, hoping the cool night air will take away some of the burning in my cheeks. Maybe it will cool me off, too.
“Dani, wait a second.”
“No. Please don’t. You’re in love with another woman. We have an arrangement and it doesn’t include sex. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I was available. I don’t drink much and all that wine went straight to my head.” I manage a wobbly smile. “I did really have a good time tonight though. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome, but—”
“I should go back inside now. To sleep.” I can’t look at him anymore. If I do, he’ll pull me under again and I might not be able to make my way up to the surface this time. I want him too badly.
He doesn’t try to stop me. He’s forceful, but he knows how to take no for an answer.
“One more thing.” I stop, turning my head to the side. “I would like for our agreement to be put in writing and signed by the two of us before we leave on Friday morning. I want to be sure the
terms are set in stone before we go.”
“Of course.” He’s all business now. There’s none of that breathless lust in his voice anymore.
Good thing. Neither of us needs it.
Chapter 22
Dani
“Everything in order?” He nearly vibrates with impatience as he waits for me to go through the contract he’s drawn up. It is a simple agreement. No lawyer jargon and no room for misunderstanding. Basically, I agree to do my best to convince everybody of the charade that we are engaged and in return, I get the money. There’s also a bunch of information about how the money will be transferred to me, and that all seems to line up.
“Yes, this seems to cover everything,” I say softly.
I sign beneath his signature on both copies while his bespectacled lawyer, who had stood next to him with a poker face, witnesses the signing.
I put the pen down and look up.
There is a satisfied smile on Brock’s face.
He presses a button in the panel beside his seat. “Let’s get rolling.”
The pilot confirms his order and within moments, the jet starts moving.
I run my hands, my nails all glossy with overlays over the soft seats and admire the luxury surrounding me. I didn’t know a jet could be like this. It’s more like a hotel than anything else. Aside from the seats, which are of course necessary, there are two bedrooms and a conference room.
He showed me around before we took our seats and reviewed the contract. He was very businesslike about it.
I suspect it has to do with the way I refused him on Tuesday night, but I couldn’t help it. I still think it was the best decision for both of us. We would’ve only complicated things if we’d taken things any further. Sure, it sucked. Hard. And it still sucks while I can’t stop wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t stopped it. How incredible it would’ve been…
But no.
This is a business arrangement, plain and simple. No point breaking my heart over something I plainly can never have. I made the right choice. If his ego is a little hurt, there’s nothing I can do about that, but settle in and get ready for the weekend. It’s a good thing I don’t naturally get airsick, because my stomach is already twisted in knots at the thought of what I’ll face when we arrive.
I don’t have to wait long before finding out exactly what I’m up against.
The hotel is dazzling, and I slide my sunglasses up until they rest on top of my head, so I can get a good look around. In the interest of research and not looking like a fish out of water, I’ve already read everything I could about the Mandarin Oriental.
It is certainly as amazing as the articles and reviews I read. The soaring ceilings of the lobby, the gold and deep red accents, the shining black marble. It’s exquisite. I feel like a princess as Brock and I walk in, arm-in-arm.
“It’s showtime, baby,” he murmurs.
“What if I do something wrong?”
“Then I’ll have to punish you.”
“I’ll tell you right now: my safe word is get off!”
He smiles slowly and wickedly.
I wish he’d take off his glasses so I can see what he’s really thinking. I hope he doesn’t plan on freezing me out all weekend when we’re alone, the way he’s done these last few days, except for the times when we were brushing up on our knowledge of each other and our made-up relationship.
I make a point of leaning against him a little and making sure my ring faces straight ahead.
“Ah, yes. Mr. Garret.” The concierge nearly falls over himself when he realizes who he’s speaking to. “And this must be your lovely fiancée.”
“Yes, this is Miss Saber.”
Out of sheer habit, I hold out a hand to greet him. Karl, according to his name badge. Then I withdraw it quickly when I see the surprise on his face. Shit. I glance up quickly at Brock to see if he noticed my faux pas, but he only smiles down indulgently at me.
“I hope you enjoy your visit, Miss Saber. The Mandarin Suite is all ready for you both. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. There is no need to register at the reception.”
Well, well, how the rich live.
He nods to one of the bellhops who immediately loads up our bags, and we follow behind the cart to the bank of elevators just beyond the desk.
“Brock?”
I feel him freeze at the sound of a high-pitched, almost squealing female voice. I freeze too, but immediately fall into fiancée mode. I have a job to do. I turn my head slightly. The tall, leggy blonde rushing across the lobby with her arms extended has to be the woman I’ve been brought here to make jealous.
She’s gorgeous, like something off a runway. She might as well be walking down one as she struts around in a designer sundress with—surprise, surprise—the sky-high heels Brock said I didn’t need to wear if I didn’t want to. Her hair sparkles like gold as she tosses it over one tanned shoulder. Her green eyes glow with happiness. At least, she wants us to think it’s happiness, but there is something false about her.
“I didn’t think you would come. I really didn’t.” She flashes him a brilliant smile as her hands land on his shoulders, in spite of the fact that I’m still holding onto his arm and his hand is in mine. She has perfectly balanced, delicate features with full, glossy lips which she puckers as though she’s waiting for a kiss that never comes.
Oh, I hate her.
“Dani, this is Charlotte.” Brock looks down at me with a smile. He doesn’t even stop looking at me for the rest of the introduction. “Charlotte, this is Dani.”
I squeeze his arm and drop a quick wink. We’ve got this, I want to tell him. I hope he knows. This woman is clearly a nightmare, I can tell just by looking at her. She’s high-maintenance, shrill, and doesn’t care that he’s clearly with another woman. Although she left him, she’ll touch him when she wants to and act as if she is still the only woman in the world that’s important to him. And that’s just to spite me.
I can just imagine what a debacle this wedding is going to be.
Even so, she’s beautiful and classy in her way, and much more sophisticated than I am. She wears her designer outfit like it’s a second skin, while I feel like an imposter. I almost feel sorry for Brock, having to pretend he’s not still in love with her. Having to pretend he’s in love with me.
“Dani. What a…charming name? I wasn’t aware Brock was bringing anyone along with him, but this is very sweet.” She smiles brilliantly at me, and it truly feels as though the sun just broke through the clouds to shower me with light. She’s enchanting.
Maybe I’m the one who is being jealous and catty and she’s a genuinely nice person who is also flawlessly beautiful. That would explain why Brock is still so in love with her. My smile mirrors hers. I hope. “I thought I might have to work this weekend, but managed to reschedule my appointments at the last minute. I hope I’m not inconveniencing you in any way?”
“Not at all. It’s a pleasure to have you here,” she says graciously.
“I couldn’t be here without my fiancée,” Brock murmurs, kissing my earlobe.
I giggle before turning his way, and standing on tiptoe to kiss him for real. I don’t expect it to be anything more than a basic kiss, just for show. I’m wrong. God, how wrong.
He takes the side of my face in his hand and plunges his tongue into my mouth, swirling it around until my head is whirling and my toes are nearly curling. By the time he pulls away, my heart is beating a mile a minute, and I feel more than a little giddy.
What was that all about? I thought he wasn’t a fan of public displays of affection. He must really want to show her.
I turn to Charlotte with the intention of apologizing for the sudden show and see something that takes my breath away…all over again.
She looks furious. Beyond furious. She’s trying to hide it, trying to smile like she did before, but she fails miserably. Her face looks brittle, like it might crack into a million pieces. Her eyes are cold and hard.
I don’t know if Brock sees it, but I do. She still desperately wants Brock and hates me for being with him. What the heck does she care? She’s getting married this weekend! There goes any hope of her being a gracious loser and remembering that this is her weekend and we’re all here for her.
“We should get up to the suite,” Brock announces, sliding an arm around my waist and steering me toward the elevators.
I sense the urgency in him. He wants to get away from her. I don’t blame him, I want the same thing, but for different reasons. He’s afraid she’ll know he’s still in love with her. I think she’s a nightmare. I was willing to give her a break until I saw that look on her face.
“Come to lunch with us!” she calls out.
We stop and look at each other. I still can’t see his eyes, so I can’t tell what he thinks about this. But his arm tightens.
“I don’t know. We just landed and I know I’d like Dani to relax a little,” he says, looking at Charlotte over the top of my head.
Her next question is directed at me, “You’re not tired, are you, Dani?”
“Um…”
“See? She’s not. Oh, come on, don’t be such a spoilsport. I would love for you to meet Trent.”
Trent? Yeah, that sounds like the perfect name for the sort of guy who would marry her.
“Please? We’re having lunch here at the restaurant, in an hour. You can’t deny the bride, the day before her wedding.” She tilts her head to the side and pouts.
Ugh. She’s insufferable.
“Sure,” Brock capitulates with a shrug. “Sure, we’d love to.”
He really has it bad for her if he can’t see what a manipulative little bitch she is.
I wish I could get away with slugging him.
Chapter 23
Dani
Brock hands the patient bellhop some folded-up cash and waits until the door is closed behind us before speaking, “Clearly, there was nothing I could do about that.”
“Clearly. But what about sticking your tongue down my throat?” I ask, hands on my hips. “What was that all about?”
The Promise Page 23