by Amber Nox
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
My scowl deepens. “Lying isn’t the answer. Look, we only have a short time to get through. Let’s just put it behind us and try to move on.”
“Fine.”
“I’m serious, Jake. This has to be purely professional from now on.”
“Absolutely.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
I don’t think he does, but I don’t press him on it. Instead, I push around him and head for the bathroom. Only once the door is shut behind me, do I allow my mask to drop. I sag against it, feeling the weight of this situation pressing heavily on my shoulders. I just need to survive the nine days. I can do that, right?
With a man who kisses like a god and is clearly hot for me.
13
Jacob
Allowing a woman who makes a living out of lying to kiss me is probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but it felt right doing it. Something has definitely changed between us, the dynamic has shifted. I brought Evelyn here to act as a buffer between me and my mother, but now I’m wondering if I need a buffer between me and Evelyn. Things between us are a little awkward as she sits at the dining table, a plate of fresh lasagne in front of her.
“I had no idea you could cook.”
“I live on my own, Evelyn. I had to learn or starve.”
She sniffs at the plate. “It smells lovely.”
“Dig in.”
She does, and she does so with vigour. I watch as the first mouthful hits her tongue and my dick stirs as she lets out a moan.
“That really is delicious, Jake.”
Satisfied she is enjoying the food, I cut into my own dish.
She glances at me from across the table, stealing small looks when she thinks I’m not looking, which I find adorable.
When we’ve finished eating, I start to clear the plates, but she grabs for them. “You cooked, I’ll clean up.”
“Evelyn, I’ve got it. Just sit and relax.”
“No, really, it’s only fair.”
My elbow catches her wine glass on the edge of the table. It falls and shatters as it hits the tiled floor. Evelyn is up and out of her seat before it’s even settled.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Jake.”
She moves quickly to pick up the glass as do I.
“I can clear this up,” I tell her, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t need to be waited on.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Clearing up the mess I made.”
She doesn’t meet my gaze, just continues to pile the glass together. Then she lets out a yelp and I see blood trailing down her finger and the back of her hand.
“You’re cut,” I say, rather stupidly. Anyone with eyes can see that.
I hold her hand up above her head and steer her back into the chair she just vacated.
“Keep it there. I’ll grab the First Aid kit.”
I rush into the kitchen and go under the sink to find the box. When I return to the room, she’s looking a little woozy.
“Are you all right?”
“This probably isn’t the best time to tell you I’m not very good with blood.” Her smile is a little watery as she says this.
I notice she isn’t looking at the blood now wending down her wrist. At least she kept it elevated.
“Just as well I’m pretty good with it.”
I pull up a chair, ignoring the crunch of glass beneath the legs, and gently take her wrist. She flinches a little, surprised I think at my touch.
Carefully, I examine the cut. It looks deep, but I don’t think it will need stitches. I release her, feeling the loss of her touch, so I can open out the kit on the table top. Once I have everything ready, I ask her to place her hand on the table so I can clean it and wrap it.
“Cooking and playing doctor… is there anything you can’t do?” she asks around a smile.
I mirror the gesture. “I’m a man of many talents.”
I wrap her finger in gauze, securing it with a little tape. Then say, “All done.”
Evelyn glances down at the digit. “Oh, that was quick and rather painless. Thank you.”
I meet her eyes and get lost for a moment in their depths. She seems to as well and has to force her gaze away.
I don’t let her. I lift her chin with my finger, bringing her attention back to me. Then I wait. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for, but I let the seconds tick by.
It doesn’t take long before she moves, her mouth descending on mine, plundering, taking what she wants. Triumph roars through me as her hands slip up the back of my tee to the bare skin of my back and her nails skim over the sensitive flesh.
My own fingers tangle in her hair as I pull her closer and take her mouth as though I need her with my next breath.
Our tongues meet and slide over each other’s before I manage to take the reins and gain control. I devour her mouth until I can barely breathe, then pull back, still gripping her by the back of the neck.
“We can’t do this.” She gulps air.
“I know,” I tell her, but we are doing it.
“I can’t keep my hands to myself. It’s becoming a problem.”
“I don’t want you to.”
I dip my head towards her, wishing she was sitting closer to me, before I brush my lips over hers once more, savouring her taste.
The moment is broken as the sound of the front door opening snares both our attentions and Evelyn jolts back as if we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t, which is funny, considering we’re supposed to be acting in love, so seeing us being intimate wouldn’t be odd.
“Your parents are back,” she says unnecessarily.
Mum sticks her head around the door and says, “Oh, there you are. I wondered if you’d gone to bed, the house is so quiet.” Her eyes move to the shattered wine glass before taking in the still opened First Aid kit. “What happened?”
“I knocked a wine glass over. Evie hurt herself cleaning it up.”
Evie. I have no idea where that came from, only that it feels right to use it. Evelyn glances at me, her eyes flaring slightly. I can see the question clear in her vision.
“Oh dear, does it need medical attention?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I wrapped it, but we’ll see how it is in the next few hours. Where’s Dad?”
Her eyes roll. “You know what your father is like when he gets going. He and Grant got talking and well, they’ll be there until the wee hours. I would like to get in a semi normal sleep pattern this week, although why I’m bothering I don’t know. We’ll be heading home before I get back to normal. Do you want help cleaning up?”
“No, Mum, go to bed. I’ll sort this.”
“Goodnight, darlings.”
I turn to Evelyn once Mum has disappeared upstairs. “You can go up too, if you want.”
She shakes her head. “I can help.”
“You’re wounded.”
Her gaze slides to the gauze wrapped around her finger, and she snorts. “Hardly. I need to stop kissing you, though. It’s not a good idea for either of us.”
“I disagree.”
“I thought you might.” She sighs. “In another world, another time, maybe, but here and now we can’t. No more.”
“You keep saying that, yet we seem to always end up lip-locked.”
“I mean it this time. No more.”
“Okay,” I agree, but I doubt it will be the end of this.
14
Scarlett
I was surprised by how soft and gentle Jake was when he was taking care of my cut earlier. This is a different side from the grumbling, moody man I’ve been getting to know. It’s a side of him I like very much, in fact. I didn’t know he had a caretaker in him, but seeing him wrapping and cleaning my injury, was sweet.
I’m sitting now in the middle of the bed, my hair in loose waves to my chin waiting
while he’s in the bathroom getting ready for bed. When he emerges in a cloud of steam, my eyes are drawn to him. He’s wearing a pair of soft cotton shorts and his chest is bare. My gaze slides to the contours and muscles of his chest, my mouth watering. I should look away, but I can’t.
“I forgot to take a T-shirt in with me. Sorry.”
“Please, it’s fine.” I wave off his concern. “This is your home, your bedroom. You shouldn’t have to say sorry.”
“You’re sharing my life for a short time. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You’re not.”
Juliet came down an hour after she got home for a nightcap. She invited us out to dinner with some friends of the family tomorrow night and Jacob has been on edge since. I understand, but I don’t think he needs to be this anxious. I know what I’m doing. I won’t blow our cover.
“You’ll need to wear something formal,” he tells me.
“I’ve already picked out a cocktail dress,” I assure him. I think I’m going to wear the crushed velvet one that is towards the back of the closet. There’s a pair of nude heels I spotted that I can pair with it.
He considers me for a moment before he says, “I wouldn’t normally subject you to this level of hell, but my parents might find it odd if you don’t come.”
“Jacob, it’s fine. This is what I’m here to do.”
Even as I say this, I hate how cold, how business-like it sounds. It doesn’t sit right with me, especially after I’ve claimed his mouth twice already.
“Right,” he mutters, seemingly feeling the same way. “We’ll be leaving at seven-thirty in the evening.”
“I’ll be ready,” I tell him.
He moves to his bed on the floor and a knock on the door has us both freezing. He quickly shoves the blankets under the bed, hiding any evidence he’s not sleeping in the bed itself. Then he moves to the door with a glance back. I quickly pull the covers back on the other side, making it look as if he’s just climbed out.
He pulls the door open and we’re greeted with his mother.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, darling, but your father’s home and he has indigestion. Do you have anything he can take? I couldn’t find anything in the guest bathroom.”
Jake moves towards the en suite. “I keep the medication in my bathroom.”
My—not we and our. I notice the slip immediately, and seemingly, so does Juliet because her eyes slide towards me. I give her a smile that feels weak even to me. Jake needs to be more on top of this if we’re going to continue with this ruse.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to me as soon as Jake heads into the bathroom. “I had no idea you were both in bed.”
I wave this off. “Please, don’t worry. Jake only just got out of the shower, so we haven’t settled down for the night yet.
Her eyes rove over the rumpled covers and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“You’re good for him.”
I blink. “Pardon?”
“I wasn’t sure at first, but seeing you with him, I think you’re good for him. He seems alive with you here. I can see how nervous he is about us liking you, too, which says a lot.”
If only she knew the real reason her son is nervous…
“I hope you’ll treat him well,” she says, and I hear the hint of warning in her tone.
“Absolutely. I adore your son. I’d never do anything to hurt him.” It’s supposed to be a line to assuage Mrs Hansen, but my words hold a hint of truth to them. I will never hurt Jake, not intentionally anyway.
She doesn’t get a chance to ask much more because Jake reappears with a packet of tablets for her.
“Ah, thank you, darling.” Her eyes flick to me before she says, “I’ll leave you both in peace.”
Once the door shuts behind her, Jacob rakes his fingers through his hair and scowls. “Did that seem like a check up on us?”
“A little. She cares deeply about you, Jake. I can see it clearly when she talks to me. All she wants is for you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
I don’t know if this is the truth or not, so I don’t respond. Instead, I say, “You told her the bathroom and room was yours, rather than ours. You need to be careful.”
He sighs. “There’s a lot to remember.”
“There is.” I pause before I speak, mostly because I know once these words are out I won’t be able to take them back. “I think you should sleep in the bed. That was a close call. Too close. We can’t afford to have someone catch you on the floor. It’ll raise too many questions, and they’re already suspicious enough.”
“But the contract—”
“Forget the contract. If you’re caught in a lie the whole thing will unravel anyway.”
He eyes the bed as if it’s a dangerous weapon. Then his gaze comes to me. “Are you sure about this?”
No.
“Yes.”
He stares at me a beat, then with a sigh climbs into the bed. It should feel awkward having a strange man next to me in bed. It doesn’t. I don’t read into why that is. I just try to keep a little distance between us, so it doesn’t feel weird.
We lie in silence for a short time before he speaks.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess.”
“Don’t be. Your mother is difficult, but I actually do quite like her. She cares about you, which is the main thing.”
“She thinks she knows better.”
I don’t respond to him, unsure what to say without it being negative.
“We should probably get some sleep.”
“Yes, that would be a good idea.”
I smile at him. “Goodnight, Jake.”
“Night.”
15
Scarlett
I wake the following morning with Jake in the bed and wrapped around me like one of the vines out in the field. I don’t know what to make of it, but his hands are tantalisingly close to areas that are sensitive to touch, areas I desperately want him to touch.
I try not to read too much into it. My mind is locked on what is happening later today. I’m used to going out for meals with strangers and making an impression, but this feels so much more than that. I really do want to impress Jake’s family.
I convince myself things will be fine, that it will go off without a hitch, but dinner gets off to a bad start. I can tell from the start there’s a mix of suspicion, curiosity and from one woman outright hostility towards me.
I’m not wholly unused to this kind of response, but for some reason, I feel on edge tonight. I keep close to Jake, not because I need his protection, but because it’s expected—at least that’s what I tell myself. Truthfully, I’m a little taken aback by the anger coming from the hostile woman.
She’s younger than the others, maybe in her late twenties, and is introduced to me as Serena—who is Jacob’s ex. She’s one of the names mentioned in the file I have on him. Knowing she was important enough to be included in that document makes me a little on edge, and the looks she’s giving me only heighten this feeling.
I don’t like her at all.
I can tell from the moment I meet her she wants to get her claws back into Jacob, and the fact I’m here with him is annoying her. Too bad, he’s mine—for the next week or so, anyway. Then she can do what she wants.
Even as I have this thought, an unpleasant feeling slithers through me. I don’t want her to have him, which is ludicrous. I have no say over Jake and what he does, but I can’t help my stomach from roiling at the thought she thinks she is good enough for him.
Jake pulls my chair out for me to sit at the table, a move that warms me. The man was brought up with manners. I sit and flash a glance at him, smiling as I do. He seems nervous, and I don’t blame him. This is probably a terrifying prospect for him. It’s not every day your fake girlfriend sits down to dinner with those people who are nearest and dearest to you. I, on the other hand, am not worried. This is my bread and butter. I do it every day.
He
filled me in on who is attending tonight before we left the vineyard. There are a few friends of his parents, namely his godparents, Grant and Sylvia, his aunt Marie and her husband, Jeff. And Serena.
I reach for the menu as Jacob passes it to me, and Serena speaks up.
“So, this is the mysterious girl you’re seeing, Jake. She’s not at all the type you usually go for.”
I shouldn’t feel the pang of irritation I do at her words, but I do. What is she trying to pull here? Is she trying to embarrass him—or me? If so, it won’t work. I’ve faced harder women than her in my career.
“I find that refreshing,” he mutters.
“I’m Evelyn,” I say around a big smile that certainly doesn’t reach my eyes. I let her know without words that I don’t care for her tone. “And I find type is irrelevant. We rarely settle with the people we think we want. The universe has this funny way of putting the right people in our paths.”
“That’s true,” Juliet says. “Robert wasn’t my type, but he could always make me laugh, which made me love him.”
Robert feigns indignation. “You weren’t attracted to my stellar looks?”
Juliet pats his arm. “Of course, dear.”
Serena’s smile matches mine, but there’s little warmth behind it. “And you’re the right person for Jake, are you?”
I need to nip this in the bud, fast.
“He seems to think so.”
“Serena,” Jacob’s voice cracks with warning, and I can hear the irritation behind it. Good. This woman is annoying me too.
She rolls her eyes like a petulant teenager, rather than a grown woman. I would really love to ask who thought inviting her to this meal would be a good idea, but I keep my thoughts to myself. I’m here to do whatever Jacob needs me to do, even if I don’t agree.
“Your dress is fabulous, darling,” one of Jake’s godparents, an older lady with striking silvery hair called Sylvia says. “Where’s it from?”
I hit a stumbling block. I know Jake had a personal shopper buy my clothes, but I never asked where he purchased my wardrobe from.
