“I want you to come with me to a wedding,” he says simply. “She’ll be there, and I need her to see that I’ve moved on. That I’m not available. You’d just have to play the part of my date for the evening, no fighting required. Someone easy on the eye who won’t complicate things with feelings.”
The phrase easy on the eye slips into my ears and warms me before I can stop it. I catch myself smiling and quickly school my expression into something a bit more neutral.
“Easy on the eye, huh? You’ve got the flattery lines down to a pat, I’ll give you that.”
“It’s not flattery. It’s just an observation.”
I roll my eyes, trying not to let my ego puff up like a balloon. He’s just buttering me up. That’s all.
“So,” I say slowly, turning things over in my mind. “If I agree to this, I get to make George jealous at the opera, and in return, I have to pretend to be your girlfriend at a wedding so that your ex gets the message. That about sums it up?”
“Pretty much.”
I tap my finger gently against my glass, thinking it over. It doesn’t sound like the worst arrangement. Actually, it sounds mutually beneficial. And Rhett is easy on the eye and someone I think I could have fun with on our pretend date too, which is nice. But something in his tone makes me pause before I agree to this.
“There’s a catch, isn’t there?” I ask finally.
His smile spreads, slow and deliberate. “You’re sharp.”
“Well?” I prompt, folding my arms.
“The wedding I want to take you to,” he says, dragging out the words. “It’s in New York.”
My eyes widen. “New York as in America?”
He nods, still smiling. “That’s the one. Don’t worry, it will be an all-expenses-paid trip. Flight, accommodation, the works. You’d get a free trip out of it.”
I laugh, a little incredulous as relief floods me. I don’t know what I was expecting the catch to be, but it definitely wasn’t that.
“That’s not a catch, Rhett. That’s a freaking bonus,” I say with a big, happy smile.
Chapter Eight
Rhett
One of the first things I noticed about her is how she blushes. It’s no delicate little pink tinge. It’s a full-on, all or nothing flush that starts up as twin points in her cheeks and spreads across her skin like wildfire, betraying every ounce of what she’s feeling even when she’s frantically trying to look nonchalant or brush it off with sarcasm. She’s doing it now, after I tell her the wedding is in New York. To cover it she starts laughing and shaking her head. Her fiery hair catches the low amber lights from the bar.
And fuck me, my blood rushes south and I pop wood right there, all over again for Mrs. Jessica Rabbit. I’m no novice; I’ve had more than my share of women, but this one I can’t take my eyes off. That sinful mouth. That fine ass. That banging body hidden away under layers of unnecessary clothes.
I normally wouldn’t have bothered with a woman on a prank dare. What can you expect other than awkwardness and hostility from a situation like that? A woman, albeit a very fuckable one, humiliating herself for a stupid forfeit, counting down the minutes until she can escape.
But there’s something about her.
Something unusual.
Something I couldn’t resist gripped me. My cock stirred. Desire hissed and swirled in my gut. Even the hostility and awkwardness might be worth it. And now I find myself sitting across from someone who keeps surprising me. Pippa has this way of being sharp and funny, and even when she’s talking about another man being her soulmate, my interest did not wither away.
From what she’s said about George so far, he sounds like a right tool. I can’t wrap my head around how anyone could fail to appreciate what a treasure she is.
“It’s settled then,” she says, tilting her glass toward me. “Let’s drink to our deal. We’ll go together to the opera for my George and to the wedding for your clingy ex?”
I nod slowly, but a cunning plan has already formed in the back of my mind. “Almost settled…”
Her eyes narrow with suspicion. I like that about her. How she doesn’t just roll over and agree to things. “Almost? What’s missing?”
“If we’re going to pull this off,” I say, leaning forward, lowering my voice a little like I’m letting her in on a conspiracy. “We need to act like a couple. If we don’t, George is going to take one look at us and know that it’s fake.”
She snorts. “George is a dependable poppet of a man, but he hasn’t a clue when it comes to reading relationships.”
