"Because my family is here to auction me off to the highest bidder."
“What?!” The alarm in her voice is instant.
“They came to marry me off. They have candidates. Schedules. A strategic plan that involves fertility apps and ovulation tracking.” I grimace. “If I don’t give them something, they’ll make the next seven days hell.”
“I need a girlfriend buffer. You need a bodyguard. So, a temporary alliance. Everyone wins."
She just stares at me.
Then understanding finally flickers across her face, slow and disbelieving.
“You want me to be your fake girlfriend.”
"I want you to be my solution. You play the besotted girlfriend. I get my family off my back. You get coaching on how to catch Blake without ending up as his next conquest. Everyone wins."
Her eyes widen. "No."
"Hear me out—"
"Absolutely not. That's—" She shakes her head. "That's insane."
"Crazier than your current plan?" You got a better option?"
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.
“How would this even work?”
I launch into the answer before she finishes the question.
“You move into this casita tonight. We sell the relationship publicly. Tomorrow morning, we have breakfast on the terrace where my mother can see us. You laugh at my jokes. I touch you like I can’t help it. And by lunch, every guest at this resort thinks we’re obsessed with each other.”
I take a breath.
Realize I haven’t stopped talking.
She’s just staring at me now, eyebrows lifted, like I’ve outlined a hostile takeover instead of a fake relationship.
“In return,” I add, slower this time, “we make sure Blake only takes the bait in controlled situations—where you’re safe. You get your proof. I get a week of peace. Then we go our separate ways and no one gets hurt.”
She tilts her head. “Except Blake.”
"Blake deserves what's coming." I mean it. Every word. "But you don't deserve to be collateral damage in his mess."
She's wavering. I can see it.
"What's it going to be, Jane? Keep stumbling around hoping you get lucky? Or let me help you do this right?"
She swallows hard. "And the sleeping arrangements?"
"Sharing a bed's non-negotiable if we want them to buy it."
I watch her throat work. I'm a bastard for noticing.
She studies my face for a long moment.
Looking for the trap. The angle. The hidden cost.
I keep my expression neutral. Professional. This is just strategy. Just problem-solving. Nothing to do with the way my pulse kicks up when she looks at me like that.
