He wedged his foot into the shoe and set his jaw. “Just two people taking solace from an unforgiving world in the safety of each other’s arms.”
Lips parting, she made a noise deep in her throat like she was going to say something, then turned toward the mirror to reapply her lipstick. Her hand trembled slightly. “I know what I am to you,” she said toward the mirror. “And it’s cruel of you to tease me with the idea it could be something more.”
“Maybe it’s time we moved things forward.” He shrugged. “Look, this doesn’t have to be an arrangement. We can bring it into the light. Go with me to my sister’s wedding. I need a date.”
She paused, her eyebrows pinching together. “Like be your public date at your sister’s royal wedding?”
Swaggering toward her, he flashed his most endearing smile. “Come on, Sarah. It will be fun.”
“People will see us. They’ll think we’re a legitimate couple.”
“So what? Let’s become a legitimate couple then. Like I said, maybe it’s time to move things forward.”
A whisper of a smile curved her tightly pressed lips. “Okay…”
Jason clapped his manicured hands together. “Yes!”
She held up one finger, her eyes darting away from him. “I will go to the wedding with you, act as your girlfriend, even look the other way when you inevitably attempt to bed someone else. I know you can’t help it.”
“Excellent—”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that, darling?”
“Say my last name.”
“Hmm?”
“What’s my last name, Jason? We’ve been screwing every Thursday for two years. Do you know my last name?”
“Of course I do.” He bent down to straighten his sock, searching his brain for answers. It was something with a T. Tennison. No, no. Timmerman. No, that wasn’t it. Lumberjack. He was picturing a lumberjack. “Timber. Sarah Timber.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Hawthorn.”
“There it is! I knew it was a tree.” He spread his hands.
Touching his cheek gently, she said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Sarah…”
“I can see you’re going through something, and I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for. But I’m not it.” She pressed her lips against his, then backed away and opened her bedroom door. He shrugged into his suit jacket, skimmed his keys off her dresser, and left without another word.
The Bugatti Jasondrove was capable of 260 mph, but he crept along the winding drive that led to the gatehouse of his high-rise condominium at a glacier’s pace. His mind was distracted with the evening’s conversation and with a nagging ache that had begun at the base of his skull.
“A service to our pack,” he repeated grimly. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I need a drink.”
An Audi behind him honked impatiently. He waved his arm out the window, motioning for the driver to pass. As the car pulled around, he glimpsed the gray-blue hair of Mrs. Bloomburg. Great. Passed by an octogenarian. Her upturned middle finger goaded him from her window, her engine revving as she left him in her dust. And wasn’t that just the icing on the cake to an otherwise disaster of an evening?
The road ended at a gatehouse where a slender redhead asked for his resident card. He held it out to her, then, noticing her tiny waist and pert breasts, snatched it away before she could snag it. She giggled flirtatiously. Game on.
“You must be new here”—he glanced at her badge—“Teresa.” Jason smiled in a practiced way, the type of smile an actor might use to convey attraction.
“No… But I usually work days.” Her gaze traveled over his car and his suit before settling on his face. She sighed deeply.
Yes, rich and good-looking, darling.He handed her the cardagain, making sure to brush her fingers with his own, his touch lingering just long enough for her to notice.“Really? Well, I knew there must be some explanation. I never forget a beautiful woman.”
He gloried at the slight reddening of her cheeks. An easy blush. He could have some fun with this one.
