The Dixon Brothers Trilogy: Hot Brits, Books 1-3

by Anna Durand

  "That's right," Elena says. "Decide before you see him. I'm sure he'll be wearing a suit and he'll look good enough to eat. He is a Dixon after all. Hotness is in their DNA. I think they have a special gene that makes women go wild just from seeing them in a suit."

  "I went wild for Reese when he was wearing jeans," Arden says.

  Elena rolls her eyes. "You were a virgin when you met him, so we can't use your experience as a guide."

  "You had sex with Chance five seconds after you met, so we can't use your experience as a guide either."

  I've known Dane for a smidge more than two weeks, and though I've wanted to rip his clothes off, I haven't done it. Not yet.

  "Can we talk about something else?" I ask. "I haven't even had my first date with Dane yet."

  Arden leans forward, pinning her gaze to mine. "Maybe you should wait to sleep with him. Kiss him first to make sure you have chemistry."

  Elena huffs. "Why wouldn't they have chemistry? They've worked together for a while now, which means they'd know if they aren't attracted to each other."

  This conversation is making me crazy. Will they ever stop talking about my fake boyfriend? I'd hoped dropping that bombshell would be easy and we could go back to worrying about what to order. But no, I'm not that lucky.

  "I've already kissed him," I blurt out. Why on earth did I say that? "Well, he kissed me. It was fine, so you don't need to argue about whether Dane and I have chemistry. Okay?"

  "Just fine?" Arden says. "Ohhh, that's not good."

  Elena nods. "Yeah, your first kiss should rock."

  "Did he use too much tongue?" Arden asks me. "Or not enough? There's a delicate balance between---"

  "Enough," I say. Maybe I bark that word. I've never gotten so annoyed by my friends before, but I need to change the subject pronto, before I really do go insane. "Dane is a fantastic kisser. End of discussion. There must be something else we can talk about."

  "Sure, hon," Arden says.

  "Well..." Elena fidgets, biting her lip. "I do have an announcement. Chance and I agreed I should tell you guys, and I've been dying to do that."

  Thank goodness. A change of topic.

  She smiles with her lips sealed, but it swiftly broadens into a brilliant expression of joy. "I'm pregnant."

  Arden and I squeal.

  The other customers in the bistro stare at us, but we don't care. One of us was bound to get knocked up sooner or later, and we love that it's Elena who reached that milestone first. She waited so long to find a good man who adores her. Now she's going to be a mom. I can't believe it, but I'm beyond happy for her and Chance.

  Once we've calmed down, Elena glances at me and Arden. "I wonder who will be next to go the mom route."

  "Not me," I announce a little too quickly. "I don't even have a boyfriend."

  Two pairs of eyes veer to me.

  Oh shit. I forgot I have a fake boyfriend.

  "Well, uh," I stammer like Dane might. Maybe it's contagious. "I meant that Dane and I haven't even had our first date yet. He's not technically my boyfriend until after that, right?"

  Oh yeah, I suck at lying.

  But my friends seem to accept my explanation.

  Elena smirks at Arden. "Guess that means you're next."

  "Probably," Arden says in a thoughtful tone. "I mean, we have soooo much sex that it's bound to happen sooner rather than later."

  For the rest of lunch, I manage to avoid talking about Dane Dixon.

  But I think about him. A lot. Way more than a fake girlfriend should.

  Yep. I am in so much trouble.

  Chapter Six

  Dane

  I'm standing outside Rika's flat, fussing with my cuffs and my tie and the bouquet of roses I bought for her. Is that too much? We're not really dating. This is for show, but I felt like I should bring her something. Maybe chocolates would've been the safer choice. Are roses too romantic? Then again, we want everyone to believe we're a couple, so maybe I should've brought two dozen roses instead of one dozen.

  After standing there for a minute or two, I realize I forgot to ring the doorbell.

  "Bollocks," I mutter, and I punch the button.

  I can't believe I actually suggested Rika should pretend to date me. The words came out of my mouth. She agreed, which left me thunderstruck. I hadn't needed to do much convincing either. Rika said yes almost immediately.

  Why?

  The door opens, revealing Rika.

  I almost choke on my tongue again, because she looks stunning. Her green dress brings out the green flecks in her golden irises, and the way it hugs her torso and her hips accentuates her curves. Her shoes have very high, very slender heels and delicate straps that crisscross her feet, leaving her toes and most of her skin exposed. She's painted her toenails a pale shade of pink.

  And her hair. She must have curled it or whatever women do to make their hair look sexy. Rika's long chestnut locks bounce around her face in loose waves and fall over her shoulders, mostly bared by her dress thanks to its thin straps. I want to bury my face in that hair and suck in a lungful of its scent. I know her hair is silky, because I felt it grazing my skin when I kissed her.

  Her red lipstick makes me want to nibble on those lips, and her eye makeup has that sultry, smoky look.

  Everything about her makes me want to fuck her right here in the hall.

  Or we could go into her flat and have sex up against the door.

  No, we can't. She's only pretending to want me.

  "You look ravishing," I say, before I realize that sounds like a come-on. Fake dating, remember? Well, someone might overhear us, so I need to play the part. I thrust out the bouquet. "These are for you."

  She accepts my gift and smiles, sniffing the roses. "Thank you, Dane. The flowers are beautiful, and they smell wonderful. Just let me put them in water."

  Rika rushes off but returns a moment later without the flowers.

  I offer her my arm. "Shall we go?"

  "Yes." She slips her arm under mine. "Where are we going?"

  "The Grand Salon at the Baccarat Hotel."

  Her eyes widen. "Wow. I've heard that place is incredible."

  "So have I, but I've never eaten there. So far, I've only ordered room service at the hotel where Celeste arranged for me to stay."

  We start to walk down the hall, toward the elevator.

  Rika curls her hand around my arm, leaning into me. "Where are you staying?"

  "The Four Seasons."

  She stops walking, swiveling her head to stare at me, her eyes wide again. "That's got to be the most expensive hotel in the city. Are you in one of those ultra-swanky suites? I bet you are. Celeste loves to go all out. She's a billionaire, so she can afford it."

  I scratch my cheek, wincing. "I'm in the penthouse suite."

  "Must be the biggest one they've got, right?"

  "Uh, I don't know. It's something like forty-three hundred square feet." I glance around, trying to come up with a way to lessen the shock my accommodations have given her. "Your flat is very nice."

  "You haven't seen it. So I guess you're telling me the door is very nice?"

  She smiles teasingly and nudges me with her elbow.

  "I, well---" No, I will not stammer through the whole bloody evening. Absolutely not. I take a breath to calm myself. "I meant the building is lovely."

  "Celeste pays me very well, so I could afford to upgrade to a nicer apartment."

  "Sorry, I'll make sure your new position pays the same amount or more."

  "It's okay." She starts walking again, taking me along with her. "I agreed to be your fake girlfriend, so I can't complain about switching jobs. Besides, being your PA was only a temporary thing. You're here for two months, then we both move on."

  The idea of moving on doesn't sound as appealing as it used to. I wonder why, but I decide to focus on our first date tonight and worry about everything else later.

  Our fir
st pretend date. I really need to keep that straight in my mind. She's hanging on my arm and smiling at me because I talked her into playing the role of my adoring girlfriend. That's all.

  We make our way downstairs and outside, where I hail a taxi for us. Once we're in the vehicle, Rika hooks her arm under mine again, snuggling up to me, and rests her cheek on my shoulder.

  She's playing the part, nothing more.

  I know this, but I can't help feeling more...relaxed, with her warm body nestled against me this way. I want to nuzzle her hair, but that would be an idiotic thing to do. Then again, I'm supposed to be dating her---I want everyone else to believe that---so maybe I should shove my nose into her hair strictly to convince the driver that Rika and I are a couple. Never know, he might snap a picture of us with his mobile, and if we look like strangers sharing a taxi, that might ruin the sexy image Celeste insists I must have.

  So I slip my arm around Rika.

  But I stop short of burying my face in that silky, glistening hair.

  "Have you been to this restaurant before?" I ask.

  Rika lifts her head to give me a sardonic little smile. "Sure, I've been to one of the most expensive restaurants in New York. I date billionaires, you know."

  She's teasing me, but I like it.

  "Ah, sorry," I say. "That was a stupid question. I'm sure Celeste pays you very well, but not well enough to afford a place like the Grand Salon."

  "Even if she did, I would've had to go there alone. My love life hasn't exactly been teeming with possibilities."

  "No boyfriends?"

  She shakes her head. "Not until you begged me to fake it with you."

  "I didn't beg." I want to ask her why she said yes to my proposition, but her reasons aren't my business. "We'll share a new experience together, then, at the Grand Salon."

  She lays her cheek on my shoulder again.

  After our cab ride, we walk into the Baccarat Hotel arm in arm, with Rika smiling up at me like she honestly adores me. Has she taken acting lessons? I can't see any other way she could pull off a performance like this.

  I had no idea what to expect from the Grand Salon, but I would never have expected this. The entire decor consists of platinum and off-white shades, but it's the proliferation of crystal that makes the interior jaw-dropping. It's everywhere, from the chandeliers to the glasses in which cocktails are served.

  "Holy cow," Rika says as we're led to our table. "I heard this place was amazing, but this is just unbelievable."

  I pull out her chair for her. "There's so much crystal."

  "Of course there is." Rika says as if I shouldn't be surprised at all. "It's the Baccarat Hotel."

  And now she sounds like she can't believe I don't know what that's supposed to mean.

  "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, bu
t 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."