She looked to Axel for support, probably expecting him to take her side, like most people did when faced with Rebecca’sparticular brand of confident manipulation. Instead, Axel stepped closer to me.
“You heard her.” His voice carried an edge. “You work for us, not the other way around.”
Holy shit. Was Axel actually taking my side? Again?
Rebecca’s perfectly applied foundation couldn’t hide the flush creeping up her neck. “Do you want to sell this love story or not? Because when it comes to selling this story, tonight is live TV with no chance for retakes.”
Axel and I exchanged a look. One of those wordless communications that had been happening more frequently lately.
“This was supposed to be intimate, Rebecca,” Axel said, running a hand through his hair. “This is spiraling out of control. With this many people at the table, do you know how many things could go wrong?”
“They won’t go wrong. You two will be on your best behavior. You’re madly in love.” She gathered her designer purse and jacket. “You kill this dinner, guys, and you might be home free.”
I felt a strange mix of relief and something else at the thought of this all being over. Something I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“I have to go,” Rebecca said, already typing furiously on her phone again. “You two get ready. Early,” she repeated, in case we didn’t catch that the first time. “If anyone shows up early, we don’t need them realizing you get ready in two different rooms. Speaking of which, lock that office door so a snooper can’t get in there. Make sure your stuff is in his master suite shower. And, Dakota?” She paused at the door, her smile as sharp as glass. “Don’t forget to wear the ring.”
I rolled my eyes as the door clicked shut behind her.
The penthouse fell into charged silence. Axel was still looking at me with that expression I couldn’t quite read, and suddenly, the space between us felt heated.
“I should”—I gestured vaguely toward the bedroom—“get ready.”
He nodded, but his eyes never left mine. “Dakota?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ve got this.”
The certainty in his voice made something warm flood my system. Oddly, I felt like with Axel by my side, I was safe from the hidden dangers of tonight, no matter how irrational that sounded.
After giving him a nod, I slipped into the bedroom and took great care in transforming myself from ordinary woman to fake fiancée extraordinaire. I applied the perfect makeup that gave me a pore-less, airbrushed look, added false eyelashes, styled gentle curls in my strawberry-blonde hair, and slipped into a sapphire custom-tailored dress donated by one of Chicago's high-end designers. Looking at myself in the mirror, I tried to do a little pep talk.
“You can do this,” I whispered.
After locking the office/guest bedroom door so you could only get in with the key in Axel’s master suite, I emerged and entered the living room.
I swear I saw the air leave Axel’s lungs.
His hungry gaze swept slowly from my face to my feet and back up again, like he was memorizing every inch. The path his eyes traveled left a fiery buzz across my skin, as if he’d actually touched me.
“You look …” He cleared his throat, his voice rougher than usual. “Stunning.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “You do too,” I managed, nodding toward him.
God, did he ever.
He was wearing a suit I’d never seen before with fitted black fabric that looked like it cost more than a small island, paired with a shirt that was exactly two shades darker than my dress. Color-coordinated. Making us look like we’d stepped out of a magazine spread for “Perfect Couples Who Definitely Aren’t Faking It.”
Axel walked toward me, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. The engagement ring. Right. Our little prop.
Per Rebecca’s explicit instructions, I’d cleaned it earlier and left it in the box until showtime. Massive sparkles were needed for this massive fraud, evidently.
“May I?” he asked, opening the case.
The diamond caught the light, throwing rainbows across the ceiling. I lifted my hand, wishing my skin didn’t come alive every time he touched me.
With one hand, he gently gripped my wrist, his fingertip brushing against my pulse point, which was currently hammering like a hummingbird’s wings. With the other, he slipped the ring onto my finger slowly.
