“One weekend, Aris.” She slid her hand up my chest. “That’s all I’m asking. Help me get this contract. Be my husband for three days, and I promise...” Her fingers traced my collar. “I’ll give marriage serious consideration.”
I should say no. Tell her I don’t do pretend, don’t do halfway, don’t do temporary. But her hand was sliding higher, her scent was surrounding me, and my children were moving under my palm as if they approved of their mother’s manipulation tactics.
“If I am to be your husband temporarily, I will do it properly, yes. Which means you follow my lead.”
Her eyes flashed with challenge, lips parting to argue.
I kissed her before she could. She melted into me, her body remembering what her mind wanted to resist.
When I pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
“So we have a deal?” she asked.
“Oh, we have much more than deal, Dede.” I traced her bottom lip with my thumb. “We have full weekend for me to convince you pretending to be mine, it is not nearly as satisfying as actually being mine.”
“That’s not—that wasn’t…”
“And I promise, by the end, you will not remember why you wanted to pretend in first place, yes”
The SUV slowed as we turned onto her street.
Markos cleared his throat. “We’ve arrived, sir.”
Perfect timing.
I released Dede and opened my door, then turned back to help her out. She took my hand and let me guide her toward the house.
17
When we pulled up to the front of Black Ember Distilling, my pulse jumped as if it were trying to break out of my chest. Part anxiety over this fake marriage charade, part Aris’s hand on my knee, stroking like he had every right to touch me.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. The last thing these babies needed was their mama’s blood pressure shooting through the roof.
It had only been a week since that night in the SUV, but Aris had turned “pretend husband” into a full-time occupation. When he wasn’t in meetings, he was everywhere.
Every morning I walked three-miles, and there he’d be, already dressed in workout clothes, smoothie in hand, looking annoyingly alert despite being in meetings until four AM because of the time difference with Greece.
“You need sleep,” I’d said.
“I need to ensure my wife, she is cared for,” he’d replied, like that settled it.
Then there was Wednesday, when I’d been hunched over my laptop for six hours straight, preparing for this presentation. He’d appeared with food, sat down on the couch, and pulled my feet into his lap without asking permission.
“Aris, I’m working—”
“And you will work better after a foot massage, yes.” His thumbs found the arch of my left foot, and I’d almost moaned out loud. “Tell me about your presentation while I do this.”
I’d tried to stay annoyed. Really tried. But explaining my campaign concepts while he rubbed my feet had somehow made the whole thing clearer in my mind.
Now I was starting to expect it. I listened for his footsteps in the evenings and looked for him when I woke up.
The SUV stopped, and Markos opened my door. Aris was there immediately, offering his hand to help me out. His palm was steady against mine as I extracted myself from the backseat with as much dignity as a pregnant woman could manage.
“Ready?” he asked as his hand settled at the small of my back.
I nodded, even though my heart was hammering.
Maxwell Werner met us at the entrance, eyeing Aris with obvious approval. As we shook hands, Maxwell leaned in and murmured, “I’m glad you found a solution to your little problem.”
