by Anna Durand
"I remember the hotel's name," I say, and I might sound a touch snippy.
Once we've sat down at our table by the windows, she studies me for a moment. "You really don't know about Baccarat, do you?"
"Isn't that a card game?"
"Sure, but it's also the name of a famous French company that makes amazing crystal." She glances around the room, gesturing at the decor. "That's why this place is full of crystal. Baccarat owns the hotel."
"Oh. I see."
Why hadn't I known that? I asked Chance for a restaurant recommendation, and he told me he brought Elena here a week after he proposed to her, to celebrate in style. I hadn't researched the restaurant, but maybe I should have looked at the pictures on their website. Now I've made a fool of myself in front of Rika.
I clasp my hands on the table, trying not to act the way I feel---like I'm doing the exact opposite of impressing my date.
She reaches across the table to lay her hand over mine. "It's okay. I know about this place only because Elena told me. Chance brought her here after they got engaged."
"But I should have, uh, found out more before---Well, I should've known."
"Relax, Dane." She squeezes my hands. "I'm not judging you for your lack of knowledge about this restaurant."
Strangely, I do relax. The warmth and softness of her hands makes my muscles slacken, and the gentle tone of her voice soothes me.
"Let's see what's on the menu," Rika says, picking up hers. She opens the menu and raises her brows. "Oh. I knew this place was expensive, but I really had no idea. Chance must be richer than I realized." She glances up at me. "And you must be too."
"I'm not a millionaire. But yes, Celeste gave me a very generous salary and a signing bonus."
Rika's lips curve into a gentle smile. "Signing bonus, huh? I didn't get one of those. I thought Celeste was going to make you an instant billionaire, anyway."
"That's what she promised, once the brand re-launches. Still not sure I want that."
She considers me for a moment, but then goes back to perusing the menu.
A waiter arrives a few minutes later to take our order. He has a French accent, and I've never been good at understanding that. I stumble through ordering, though I have to ask the waiter to repeat things several times before I'm sure he got my order right. It's humiliating, especially since Rika places her order in French. I studied Italian at university, but I barely remember any of it.
I can't tell if the waiter is flirting with Rika, since I have no idea what they're saying to each other. He does smile at her, and they both laugh about something.
And I develop a sudden urge to tell that French wanker to sod off.
Rika asks me if I mind if she orders caviar as our appetizer. I shrug, and she speaks to the waiter in French again.
He takes our menus. "It's wonderful to see an elegant young couple who are so much in love."
The waiter leaves us.
So much in love? Where did he get that idea? I wonder again what Rika and the waiter discussed.
"You speak French," I announce. "Sorry. I didn't know you speak another language, so I'm surprised, that's all."
"I guess you don't speak anything other than English?"
"No. I've forgotten nearly all the Italian I learned at school."
She leans forward, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. "I told the waiter you're my hot British sugar daddy and you're trying to seduce me with a fancy dinner."
I've just taken a sip of water from the intricately carved glass, and I splutter. "What?"
Rika grins. "I'm kidding. I couldn't resist. You're so darn cute when you're flustered."
My mouth gapes, but I can't come up with a response to that. According to Reese's wife, Arden, being called "cute" is a compliment. It means a woman likes you. But Rika can't like me in the way Arden meant. Not when I behave like a cartoon character.
Our appetizer arrives, and while the waiter sets it down on the table, Rika rubs her hands together like she can't wait to devour it. "I've never had caviar before."
"Never?" I tap my fingernail on my crystal water glass. "I have. Caviar is...not my favorite food."
"Why didn't you tell me? We could've ordered something else."
"You seemed excited about trying it."
Her lips curl up at the corners, not quite a smile but definitely an expression of...what? Affection? I can't decide if I want her to feel affectionate toward me.
"You really are adorable," she says. "And such a sweetheart."
"Uh... Thank you."
I watch while Rika samples the caviar. First, her nose wrinkles. Then, as she chews and swallows it, her face lights up. "You know, that's not as gross as I thought it might be. Not my favorite food either, but it's not half bad. My family goes for simpler stuff, like T-bone steaks and twice-baked potatoes."
"That's much better than caviar. Do you get along with your parents?"
"Sure. We get together for the holidays, birthdays, whatever, and we always have a good time." She consumes another mouthful of caviar before she asks me, "What about your parents? Elena and Arden make it sound like the Dixons are the perfect family. I know Chance and Reese, but I've never met your mom and dad."
"We all get on well and rarely argue. Not much to say, really. We're boring."
"You're not boring at all."
I freeze with my glass a millimeter from my lips. She doesn't think I'm boring.
The waiter brings our entrees, and we stick to discussing the food and the decor while we eat. Afterward, I try to pay the bill.
Rika stops me with a hand on my arm. She leans in to whisper in my ear. "I should pay half. This is a fake date, after all. I'll give you my part once we're back at my apartment, so nobody sees us splitting the bill. I mean, I know it's common these days for couples to go dutch, but I figured that might embarrass you."
She cares if I'm embarrassed. She said I'm not boring, I'm cute, and I'm a sweetheart. Maybe I shouldn't read too much into her behavior or her words. If she were attracted to me, she would've told me. Wouldn't she? Or am I meant to take the first step?
Not that I want to or plan to.
I pat her arm and whisper to her, "Don't worry about the bill. Our phony relationship was my idea, so I will pay."
"Okay. Thank you, Dane."
"You're welcome, Rika." I love saying her name. It rolls off my tongue in the most satisfying way. "I am about to be a billionaire, after all. I can afford to spoil my not-girlfriend."
"You are such a gentleman. It's refreshing."
After I pay the bill, we take a taxi back to her apartment building. I walk her to her door, the way a gentleman would. Not because she called me that, but because I want to do it. I always walk a woman to her door. It's the polite thing to do.
Rika unlocks the door, swinging it open, but lingers on the threshold. "Thank you for a lovely evening, Dane."
I kiss her cheek.
She raises her brows. "That's all I get? I mean, we want everyone to believe we're hot for each other. Don't you think you should give me a real kiss?"
"Well---It's---" I want to do that, but considering how our first kiss affected me, I don't think it's a good idea. "I never kiss a woman on the mouth on the first date."
"Make an exception. For the sake of appearances."
"There's no one else around."
"But this building has security cameras on every floor. What if someone leaks a video of you not kissing me?" Her smile is teasing and sexy as hell. "Don't want potential customers to think you don't know how to please a woman."
"Ah..." I can't stop staring at her red lips. She might have a point about appearances. Or maybe I'm so desperate to kiss her again that I'll take any excuse. "Yes, you may be right."
I move closer, bending my head to seal my lips over hers. The first touch fires an electric jolt of lust through me, from my mouth straight down to cock. The scent of her overpowers my s
enses, and I thrust a hand into her hair, spreading my palm up from her nape so I can tip her head back. A breath rushes out of her. For this one moment, I let myself forget she's only pretending, that this isn't real, and I lose myself in the kiss. Her lips feel soft and slick and warm, and when I push my tongue between them, she opens her mouth more. I can't hold back, not when she moans and grasps my arms like she wants to do so much more than kiss. Thrusting deep, I devour her mouth and gorge myself on the flavor of her, on the sensation of our tongues twining and our lips colliding while we both cling to each other like we need our bodies melded but the air between us has become an impenetrable barrier. Any thoughts I might've had left in my brain fly away, leaving nothing except the blind, overpowering hunger to consume this woman like I've never done with anyone else.
She grasps my lapels and drags me into her body.
All of her, crashing into all of me... It feels incredible. I back her up to the doorjamb and grind myself against her, heedless of the fact I have a raging erection that's now jammed into her belly. She moans again, the sound so erotic it's fraying my last thread of willpower. I grip her arse with both hands, kneading her cheeks, then whisk one hand up to her breast and close my fingers around it, loving the way her flesh yields to me---except for the stiff peak. I want my mouth on that nipple. Now.
But I don't do it. I massage her breast and her arse, knowing that's as far as I should go, as far as I can go. I shouldn't even be doing that. How long we kiss, I have no idea. It feels like an eternity of pleasure. I don't want to stop, but I have to break away and give up the feel of her body and the taste of her mouth. It's what our arrangement requires.
So I step back, creating a distance between us. "Good night, Rika."
My voice sounds rough, almost hoarse.
Before she can speak, I spin away from her and stalk down the hall.
Chapter Seven
Rika
I toss and turn all night, tormented by dreams of Dane kissing me, Dane's body pressed against me, Dane's hungry groans, the way he'd fondled my ass and my breast. Yeah, sure, I had hauled him into me. I can't blame Dane for how hot our kiss got, because I suggested a real kiss, I pulled him closer, and I ravaged his mouth like a sex-starved lunatic. Sure, I haven't had sex in a while, but sheesh. I should have more self-control, shouldn't I?
Not with Dane Dixon.
The man can barely speak to me during office hours, but on our date, he didn't stammer the way he usually does. He was courteous, respectful, sweet, and funny---and he even held doors for me and pulled my chair out for me. He behaved like the perfect boyfriend. But he's not my boyfriend. I want him to be. Last night I'd realized that. I should tell him how I feel, but he's made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with actual dating.
The next morning, I walk into the office with dark circles under my eyes that no amount of makeup can cover up. Twice overnight I'd woken from a dream of Dane so turned on that I had to relieve my lust the solo way. My hair is still damp because my stupid hair dryer decided to break this morning, so not only do I look like I broke out the booze and had a massive bender after Dane said good night to me, but I also look like a drowned puppy.
At least my clothes and makeup look okay.
I've just sat down at my desk when the phone rings. It's Dane's extension.
"Hi, boss," I say, feigning a cheerfulness I don't feel this morning. "What can I do for you?"
"Come into my office, please. I need to speak to you."
"Sure thing."
I march into his office, and when he waves for me to sit down, I settle onto a chair across the desk from him.
Dane shuffles papers on his desk, head down, moving only his eyes to glance up at me repeatedly. He must notice my wet hair and my dark circles.
I clear my throat. "I'm so sorry about the way I look this morning. I know it's unprofessional to have wet hair at work, but my hair dryer broke and---"
He raises a hand to silence my babbling. "I don't care about any of that. Chance and I have found you another position."
"Already?"
It's been one day since he asked me to be his fake girlfriend. He already got me another job? Maybe the slutty way I'd dragged him into me last night has embarrassed him, so he quick found me a new job. Right. He got up at two a.m. to hunt for another PA position for me.
Well, with this guy, who knows?
Dane fiddles with his tie. "Yesterday, after our discussion about the...uh...fake orgasm---" He blushes. Really blushes. And he clearly remembers my joke about orgasms. "I meant the fat---the fake girlfriend issue. You aren't fat. N-not at, um, all. Or ever. Or---"
"Relax, Dane, it's okay. I know what you were trying to say." Jeez, he's even more nervous than every other time we've spoken. So I give him what I hope looks like a sympathetic smile. "This is all kind of weird for me too."
"Is it?"
"Yep. Take a breath and start over. This is business, right? There's no reason to be nervous."
He takes a breath and sets his palms on the desktop. "Chance has a mate who owns a home business, and he needs a personal assistant. His name is Eddie Masters. He films fitness videos that he sells on his website, and he also offers live classes over the internet."
"I love streaming exercise classes. It's more fun than doing it by myself in my living room, and I've never liked going to the gym."
"Neither have I." He picks up a sheet of paper and hands it to me. "These are the details about the job. You're to report there immediately."
"This morning?" I lean forward to take the paper, but an icy chill has washed over me. "I thought it would take longer to get a new job. This is so sudden."
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, but considering our new relationship---" He freezes for a second, not even blinking, then clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. "I meant considering the business relationship we have. The dating business." He squeezes his eyes shut and hisses, "Bollocks."
I can't help smiling at his frustration. Every time he stammers or says the wrong thing, I want to hug him. "Take it easy, Dane. I know our dating thing is only a business arrangement. And it makes sense to get me a new position right away."
But the thought of not seeing him every day makes me a little queasy.
Which is so incredibly dumb. I've known him for a few weeks, but we hadn't spoken much until this week. I loved our lunch the other day and the kiss that came after it. I loved our dinner last night and the super-hot kiss we enjoyed when he walked me to my door. And that's one of so many things Dane does that no other guy would bother with these days. Walking me to my door. Picking me up at my door. Giving me flowers.
I read the laser-printed text on the paper Dane gave me. It's a printout of an email from Chance that outlines the details of my new job.
"Stamford, Connecticut?" I say. "That's, like, forty-five minutes away."
Or so I've heard, but then, I've never taken a train or driven a car from New York to Stamford.
"If it's too far for you to drive every day," he says, "I'll pay for you to rent a flat in Stamford."
"But being your fake girlfriend is my job too. How are we going to date when I'm way over there in Connecticut?"
"There are trains to and from the city. I checked." He offers me another piece of paper. "This is the train schedule for all the lines that go from New York to Stamford."
"Oh. Thanks." The way he seems so eager to get rid of me makes me feel like I'm shrinking into an ant-size version of myself. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you last night. With that kiss."
And the way I forced you to plaster yourself to me.
He pushes his glasses up with one finger. "I wasn't embarrassed."
I believe him, which leads to one inescapable conclusion. He'd taken off so fast after our kiss because he'd been as turned on as I was. I'd felt his erection. His big, hard erection.
"Good," I say. "Thank you for finding me another job. This one sounds like fun."
"Chance told me Eddie is a decent bloke who will treat you with respect, not like that arse who harassed you at your previous job."
"Yeah, I don't think anyone else would act the way that jerk did."
Dane glances at the open door to the office. "Maybe we should say goodbye the way, uh, couples do."
I glance over my shoulder and suddenly get why he's suggesting that. A man has walked up to my desk---my former desk---and is sitting down in the chair I once occupied.
"That's your replacement," Dane says. "Not that anyone can really replace you. My new PA is here for a temporary position, with the potential to make it permanent later."
He's already replaced me. I know he had to do it, but still...I'm feeling queasy again.
Dane comes around the desk to me.
I get up too.
He pulls me into his arms and fuses his mouth to mine. It's not a steamy kiss. Our lips meet, and we hold our mouths like that for a moment without deepening the kiss. It feels wonderful anyway. I love having his body crushed to mine, so I can experience every single one of his muscles.
Dane lets go of me but doesn't back away. "Good luck at your new job."
"Thanks."
I let him take my hand and lead me out into the reception area. He introduces me to his new PA, Noah Smolak. The guy looks fresh out of college, dressed in khaki pants and a polo shirt. Did no one tell him how to dress for a big-time job like this one? When Dane gives the kid an assessing look, Noah cringes the tiniest bit.
"Good morning, Mr. Dixon, sir," Noah says, his spine ramrod straight. He even raises his hand like he might salute Dane, but he lowers it quickly. "Sorry about my clothes. I didn't have time to go buy a suit before work this morning. I only had two hours' notice."
Wow, this replacing-me thing really is a rush job.
"It's all right," Dane tells Noah. "I know this was last minute."
Dane kisses my cheek and wishes me a good day, then strides back into his office and shuts the door.
I hustle to the train station.
At least my hair will be dry by the time I meet Eddie Masters.
The train ride gives me time to collect myself. Walking into the office to find out I'm not wanted there anymore was like getting slapped in the face with a big wet towel. Dane still wants to date me, for show, but he doesn't want me around at work. I knew this would happen, but I didn't think he'd leap on the task of getting rid of me with so much enthusiasm.
