Page 50 of Fake it With Me

“I was gonna say,” he started, his voice rougher than usual.

I smiled. “Yes?”

“Dinner will be ready in half an hour. In case you want to shower or anything.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Right. Yes. Good.” He turned to leave, then paused. Turned back like he was going to say something else. Then clearly thought better of it and headed back down the stairs without another word.

I waited until he was gone before I let myself smile.

The man was affected. Seriously affected. Which meant whatever I was feeling, he was feeling it too. We were both in this thing together, both struggling with the same attraction and trying to maintain boundaries that were getting flimsier by the day.

That should probably worry me more than it did.

I gathered up my cover-up and my phone and headed below deck to my assigned stateroom to shower and change for dinner. The bathroom was absurdly luxurious, especially considering we were on a boat. Yacht. It wasn’t a boat. It was a yacht.

Thinking about what might have happened if we’d been alone up there was making me feel hot and it had nothing to do with the warm water washing over my skin. If Daisie wasn’t on the yacht, we might have given into the urge.

My body was making very compelling arguments. Just one time. We were both adults and clearly interested. We just needed to scratch the itch. Once we got what we obviously both needed, things would be fine. We could be near each other without wondering what it would be like to be naked and tangled up in each other.

It was a real devil versus angel thing. I could feel the good one on my right shoulder, urging caution, and that dirty bitch on my left shoulder, telling me it would be okay.

But then I remembered I needed the money too badly to risk screwing up the contract.

I turned the water to cold, gasping at the shock of it and tried to cool down my overheated thoughts.

Three more weeks. I could keep it together for three more weeks.

18

DAREK

The sun was setting when Liza walked out onto the aft deck where we were having dinner. The crew had outdone themselves. I paid them well, of course, but they still managed to impress me. The table was set with actual china and crystal and candles flickering in hurricane lamps. The whole scene was painted in the golden light of the dying day.

But she was the most beautiful thing out there.

I thought she had looked hot in that bathing suit. I’d literally forgotten how to form words when I had seen her lying there. I literally almost swallowed my tongue. My cock had twitched and nearly humiliated me by standing up and waving at her through my shorts.

The swimsuit was sexy, but this was different. She’d done something to her hair, left it down in soft waves instead of her usual ponytail. There was a braid on one side that pulled her hair from her face while giving her a very medieval look. She had put on a little makeup. It was subtle but somehow made her eyes look even brighter and bluer. Or maybe it was just the way her cheeks were still rosy from the sun with her skin glowing.

I stood up when she approached, some ingrained sense of manners kicking in. Liza settled into the chair across from me and I retook my seat.

“You look so pretty, Liza!” Daisie said, voicing exactly what I was thinking but couldn’t say. “Can you do my hair like yours?”

“Of course,” Liza said, smiling at her. “After we eat, though.”

“Deal!”

The crew started bringing out food. Grilled fish, salads with ingredients from some farm-to-table place I probably paid too much for, and bread that was still warm. Wine for Liza and me, sparkling cider for Daisie because I wanted her to feel like it was a special dinner.

I poured the wine, trying to focus on the mechanical task instead of staring at Liza. I couldn’t explain any one thing about her that appealed to me. It was the total package. She was so naturally beautiful.

My willpower was crumbling. Every boundary I had carefully constructed and every reason I had given myself for keeping this professional was eroding like sand beneath waves, wearing away a little more each day.

Each hour.

Each time she smiled at me.