“Okay. Then what do you need?”
“A fake fiancée.”
Chapter Thirteen
Grace
“A…fake fiancée?”
“Correct.”
The last grains of sand slide through the hourglass. I pour the tea into our cups and slide one toward him. The caramel scent wafts over us as I drop a cube of brown sugar in and stir it to give myself time to gather my thoughts. “Don’t you have any friends you can ask?” In every romance novel I read, the guy always asks his assistant or best friend or something, not an old one-night stand.
He squints at me. “No. I’m not gay. As I believe I demonstrated when we—”
I almost choke on the tea. “I mean afemalefriend.”
“I don’t have any female friends.”
“Why not?” Is there something wrong with his personality?
He shrugs. “Women want to sleep with me.”
From any other guy it would sound beyond arrogant. But from him? Totally natural. Of course, women want to sleep with him. The redhead behind him has been eye-fucking him ever since she sat down, and she’s with a date.
“Okay… I can see that. But whyme? Other than the fact that I broke up with my boyfriend.”
Slight satisfaction crosses his face at the mention that I’m still single. “You seem normal. Not clingy. And we have good chemistry.”
“And if I want to sleep with you again…?” I say, half serious and half hypothetical, since he brought it up as the reason he has no female friends.
“Grace, we aren’t going to be friends.”
Why does that slide into my gut like a blade?
“You’re going to be my fiancée.”
My fiancée.
“Why do you need a fake fiancée?” I pat myself on the back for sounding cool, but my heart is fluttering like a flag in a hurricane.Am I nervous or excited?What’s happening is so unreal.
Actually, everything involving Huxley has been surreal—the ride in the rain to the most amazing sex of my life to this.
“My family is trying to force me to a marry a woman of their choice.”
“Can they do that?” I ask in surprise. He doesn’t come across as a pushover. He comes across as the type who, if you push, will push back harder.
A corner of his mouth twists into a sardonic smile, his eyes darkening with anger tinged with self-directed annoyance. “Unfortunately, they found a way. I plan to undo it, but that requires some time. Which is where you come in. They can’t force me to marry someone quickly if I already have a proper fiancée.”
His family sounds pretty…difficult, to put it mildly. Their behavior reminds me of Nelson and Karie, who are always trying to force me to do things I don’t want in order to benefit themselves and their children. “How long is the fake engagement going to last? And what’s, uh…involved?”
“A few months. No more than a year, is my guess. You just need to attend a few family dinners and social functions. I’ll limit them as much as possible so as not to disrupt your life more than necessary.”
I can feel my face heat. “I only have two dresses.” They’re black and classy, but it’s going to be obvious if I wear nothing but for those two to all of his events. Given the way he speaks of his family—and the fact that he drives an outrageously expensive car—my usual wardrobe of faded jeans and T-shirts isn’t going to cut it.
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay for clothes, accessories—whatever you need. You won’t have to spend a penny, and you can keep everything we buy for the ruse.”
He adds the last part like it’s a big incentive, but I’m not too worried about who keeps the items. “Do I have to give up my job or anything?”
