DAKOTA
God help me. Tonight was going to suck donkey balls.
I studied my reflection one last time, mentally calculating how much my appearance would have cost if all these products hadn’t been given to me in exchange for social media posts. Two hundred for the hair. Three fifty for the makeup. Another sixty for the false eyelashes that made my eyes look innocent. The exact opposite of how I felt. All to convince strangers I was in love with Satan’s favorite intern.
That’s all he was. Those moments, or whatever the hell you might call them, in the bathroom and the one before it in the office meant nothing. In fact, they weren’t even moments. They were glitches. Malfunctions in the matrix.
You are not a needy teen, desperate for his attention, Dakota. So, do not let him have the power. You hate Axel, Dakota. Hate. Hate. HATE!
Then why did I put on my most devastating dress?
The ruby-red fabric hugged every curve like it was painted on. No. It wasn’t to impress him; it was strategic. A woman goingto war needed armor, and mine came with a push-up bra and five-inch Louboutins that click-clacked like walking the plank on the way to the living room.
I rounded the corner into the foyer and froze.
Damn. Double damn. Triple damn with a cherry of F-my-life on top.
Axel Pierce stood with his back to me, tailored shoulders broad enough to fill out that suit like a movie star. When he turned, those piercing cobalt eyes hit me like a car accident. His jaw, shadowed with dangerous stubble, tightened when he saw me.
The man had no right to look so gorgeous. Tall, with perfectly tousled dark hair and a personality like a paper shredder. A really hot paper shredder. The kind that made you want to feed it important documents just to watch it work.
Heat radiated through my body as his gaze traveled from my face to my stilettos and back up slowly, memorizing every inch. When his eyes met mine again, something dark and hungry flickered before he masked it.
“You look almost tolerable when you’re not talking, Sunshine,” he drawled.
See? If you needed proof there were no moments in the office or bathroom, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen.We were right back where we started. Safe ground. The familiar territory of mutual loathing.
Good. That’s exactly where I wanted us.
I forced my lips into a smile with too many teeth. “And you clean up surprisingly well for someone with the personality of a cactus.”
“Enough, you two.” Rebecca stepped forward, all business. “Three influencers will be positioned near you tonight with fifteen million followers between them. They think they scored prime reservations, but every seat was strategically placed. Oneof them is Paul Hargon; he can make or break this. You’ll apologize publicly; Axel will forgive you.”
My apology. The idea of groveling to him publicly tasted like throw-up.
“Hear that, Sunshine?” His eyebrows shot up. “Apologize. Loud and fucking clear.”
I glared while he smirked.
“And you’ll seal the night with a kiss authentic enough to convince those influencers you’ve been doing it for months.”
My stomach dropped. “A kiss?” I choked. “I’d rather cut my lips off.”
“You think kissing you is any less repulsive to me?” Axel snarled. “I’d rather kiss a blender. While it’s running.”
“Then help me here.” I gestured wildly. “We can sell the whole couple-making-up narrative without my enduring his mouth on mine. We can hold hands and pretend the touch doesn’t feel like acid. But a kiss? I can’t pull that off. Not with him.”
“We agreed to do everything she said.”
I gripped my hips hard enough to leave marks. It was that or punch his perfectly structured face. “You’re just saying that because making me squirm brings you joy.”
His lips quirked up. Case. In. Point.
“Dry your panties, Sunshine. It’s a fake kiss. Kissing you will feel like kissing a corpse.”
“Kissing you will feel like kissing an insect.”
“We don’t have time for this.” Rebecca’s expression was pinched. “Is kissing each other really so bad, you’d rather lose everything?”
