It’s him! It’s Gordan Crawford!
And he was headed their way.
Her pulse spiked when she saw the billionaire weaving himself through the crowd. The wealthy businessman stopped several feet away when another guest stepped into his path.
Alex watched as Gordan smiled and the two men shook hands as if they were old friends. Hope flourished when an idea began to form in her head.
Whoever Mr. Morris was, he was going to have towait. This was her chance, and she’d wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass. As soon as he got closer to her, she was going to pounce.
Figuratively, of course.
If I can convince him to hang even just one of my pieces within these infamous walls . . .
The potential exposure her name and work would receive from that honor alone was worth putting her fears aside to seize her day. But her wistful thought was almost immediately interrupted by a low, under-the breath curse.
Colt spun his head back around, his stare almost frantic as it burned into hers. “I promise, I’ll explain everything later, but for the sake of both our lives, I need you to play along.”
“Play along?” Alex frowned. “With what?”
And what was that other thing he’d just said? Something about both their lives?
Rather than responding to the questions she’d asked aloud, the confounding man was silent as he took the near-empty glass from her hand. He turned and set it and his own down onto a pedestal table nearby. And then, without a word, Colt brought his hands to her face.
He cupped her cheeks in a gentle but firm hold. Alex flinched, too stunned by the unexpected move to fully pull herself away.
“Colt, what are you?—”
“For the rest of tonight, my name is Cole Morris.” He brought his mouth closer to hers. “And I’m not your sister’s brother-in-law. I’m . . . your date.”
“You’re mywhat?” She felt her eyes grow wide as saucers.
“Here he comes.” Colt’s lips were almost touching hers now. “I’m serious, Alex. If you blow my cover, we’ll both wind up dead.”
Dead?
“Your cover?”
She attempted to look back from over her shoulder in search of an explanation to the man’s cryptic ramblings. But Colt’s gentle hold remained steady, preventing her from looking anywhere but straight into his eyes.
“Please, Alexandria,” he whispered her formal name. “Do us both a giant favor and just play along.”
He never called her Alexandria. It was always Alex.Always.And Coulter Morgan never, ever begged.
Please, Alexandria.
A flash of something passing over the pleading man’s gaze was the only warning she had. With her very next breath, Colt’s mouth was on hers. He was kissing her, and after a moment of shock and hesitation?—
Alex found herself kissing him right back.
CHAPTER TWO
I am so dead.
That was the first thought rolling through Coulter’s desperate mind. The second?
She tastes like a fucking wet dream.
Hot. Sweet. Soft like the finest silk. And so much better than any of the billion-and-one fantasies this woman’s mere existence had inspired.
