“Smile like you love me,” Luka whispers with a cocky grin, and then spins me so my back is against his chest. His arms come around my body, his hands clasping mine across my middle. Heat pulses between my legs as his arms come around my body, his hands clasping mine across my middle. My skin feels lit up, every nerve hyperaware of him and the feel of his hard, warm body against mine.
“Time to kiss.”
“What?” The word blurts from my lips.
Emzee doesn’t look impressed. “You need to kiss my brother, as horrible as that probably sounds for you.”
We face each other again, our eyes locking as Luka’s sister explains how he’s going to dip me low over his arm and kiss the hell out of me while she gets the perfect shot.Smile like you love me.What the hell was that for?
I don’t love him. And he doesn’t love me, either. Heforgot me, for crying out loud. Doesn’t even remember the amazing sex we had three years ago. I’m just another hit-it-and-quit-it conquest for him. Yet here I am anyway, playing the part of happy fiancée, while holding onto a secret motive that makes me feel guiltier every second. Putting the ring on my finger has only made it harder to remember there’s another reason I’m in this fake marriage. And he’s going to do the one thing that could unravel the tightly wound resolve I walked in here with.
Luka slides his arm around the dip of my lower back, his other hand clasping mine. I let him tip me back, trusting him not to drop me, my lips parting as he leans over to press his mouth to mine.
He pauses, just a breath away.
And then his lips crash onto mine, firm and hot and hungry, his taste assaulting me. It’s intoxicating. I can’t help letting out a soft moan as my core floods with desire and longing, the pulse so strong that I press my thighs together to stop it. But I can’t. I’m at Luka’s mercy, completely defenseless in this position, with his lips locked on mine.
The room starts to spin, and I want to throw my arms around his neck and pull him on top of me, inside of me, right here on the carpet. I want his touch all over me.
He chuckles, low and intimate against my lips, as if he’s reading every dirty thought going through my mind. I don’t care if I’m smiling, or which way my hair is falling, or how well I’m positioned for the shot. I don’t care about anything but getting through this moment. Because lord help me, I want Luka Zoric more right now than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
He’s using me, I remind myself.I’m using him.
This is all a sham.
But is it so wrong to be attracted to the man who’s going to spend the next three years acting as my pretend husband?
He pulls away finally and we move through a series of new positions at Emzee’s direction. I’m a supple model, having as much professional experience as I do in that arena, and I do exactly as I’m told and play my part. I never wanted to be an actress, but I have a feeling that I’m going to have to be in order to get through this marriage.
Then, Luka flicks me a gaze that’s full of heat and challenge. He wants me to act on my body’s demands. The glint in his eyes feels like he’s daring me to.
Maybe it’s a challenge I’d accept, except that he already has an advantage over me. He can fuck me and forget about it afterward. Me? I don’t have the luxury of being that callous.
I still remember every detail, and if I’m not careful to guard my heart…it could ruin me.
Brooklyn
Chapter 11
Luka is really good at playing fiancé.
We’re in the den of his penthouse and I can’t stop the flutters in my stomach. In just a few minutes, the primetime gossip showCelebrity Chatwill air—and millions of people will see the interview where Luka and I announce our engagement. I’m a ball of nerves.
Luka, meanwhile, is digging around in his kitchen for snacks like we’re about to watch a college football game.
“Do you like olives?” he calls out to me from the other room.
“Sure,” I answer, though I don’t have much of an appetite.
I have to admit, it’s kind of sweet that he invited me over for the airing. The interview had been a lot more fun than I’d expected. Luka was surprisingly attentive and affectionate, giving the host no reason to suspect that our relationship was all a sham. I mean,Ialmost believed our engagement was real by the time we were done. A couple of weeks have gone by since we decided to do this, and I’m finally starting to feel comfortable with my decision. We even took my parents out for lunch to break the news, and he charmed the pants off them both.
“Prosecco or water?” he asks, dropping off a couple of crystal flutes on the coffee table.
“Water’s great,” I say with an anxious smile. I wouldn’t mind a drink to calm my nerves, honestly, but I know Luka’s on a strict alcohol limit, and it feels nice to support him this way. Especially considering how supportivehe’sbeen.
He’s gone out of his way to soothe my worries the past few weeks, exhibiting incredible patience every time I call or text him, and he readily agreed when I asked if we could color-coordinate our outfits for theCelebrity Chatinterview. But what really blew me away was how he’d held my hand during the entire course of the filming, his grip sure and steady. Even the show host had remarked on our obvious chemistry, and the fact that Luka couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off me.
I’d been enjoying it. Not going to lie. There were times it had almost seemed real.
