Man Candy: A Fake Marriage Romance (Fire & Ice Romance Series Book 3)

by Kylie Parker

  With my mind made up and my resolve in place, I get to work. The contract has to be perfect. I need to impress the man with my skill and my brain. This job could be what I need to give my career the break I have been looking for.

  After a long day of reading and rereading and then making final edits to the contract, I am beat. It is nearly eight. I missed dinner and my stomach growls loudly to express its irritation at the fact.

  I decide to call Jessica as I walk the city streets to my apartment. The weather is warm, a little humid, but it feels good to be outside after being cooped up all day.

  “Hey,” I say when she answers after the first ring.

  “What's up?” she asks. I can tell she is drawing. She works as a furniture designer and was always sketching new ideas. She is one of those crafty girls who can look at a pile of trash and create some gorgeous masterpiece.

  “Have you heard of Dylan Hawke?” I ask.

  “Mmm, yummy. I sure have. I even met him at a party last year,” she said. “Not that he would remember considering there were about five women drooling all over him.”

  “He's my new client,” I blurt out.

  “You have a client! Yeah! We are definitely celebrating tomorrow!”

  I sigh, feeling I may have overstated my connection, “I am on his legal team, but Mr. James is his main counsel. I get to do all the dirty work and he gets all the credit—as usual.”

  I can hear her smile through the phone, “But you get to work with the most eligible bachelor in America. And you know this is going to be your big break. You are going to impress the socks off Mr. Hawke.”

  “I hope so,” I mumble. If only she knew where my thoughts had been all day and what the image of his socks falling off did to me. I consider telling her how I first met Dylan in the coffee shop, then decide against it. That is a moment I don't want to relive without a few drinks in me first.

  “Wear something short and slinky tomorrow,” she orders. “I swear to God I will not be seen with you if you wear one of those God awful suits you insist on wearing to work.”

  I laugh, “You know why I do that. After that jackass William damn near raped me and then had me fired for turning him down, I learned a lesson. That guy got ME written up for dressing provocatively.”

  The whole bad scene replays in my mind. That had been my wake up call. I had been working as an intern, my first year in law school when one of the partners grabbed my ass and tried to feel me up. It was an experience that had truly scarred me for life. I had to go through sexual harassment training. I was blamed for inciting his lustful ways by wearing skirts that showed too much leg and shirts that accented my full breasts.

  I quit, but not before the damage was done. I had earned the reputation as being promiscuous and trying to sleep my way to the top. The reputation followed me all through law school. When I applied for this job, I went undercover as Jessica put it. My long blonde hair is always in a tight bun. I wear no makeup and hide my face behind the most hideous glasses I could find. My work attire is too big, frumpy and ugly. Nobody is going to look at me and think sex.

  I can hear Jessica's pencil scratching against her sketch pad, “I'll let you go. See you tomorrow,” I tell her.

  “We'll get you laid and if we can't find anyone, I can take care of you sweetie,” she purrs.

  Jessica is a wild woman. She loves men and women. She isn't picky. She doesn't care what's between their legs. She's a free spirit. I envy her and often wonder if it makes life easier.

  I hang up and my mind instantly drifts back to Dylan and what it would be like to have him. It was obvious he was used to getting what he wanted. He had that alpha male vibe. It turned me on and scared me away at the same time. I can't help but imagine what one night with him would be like. Was he kinky? Domineering? Or did he turn into one of those sappy guys who asked questions before making a move? I shudder. Been there, done that and it did absolutely nothing for me. I like a guy who knows what he wants and goes after it.

  5

  Alexa

  I wake up earlier than usual. I am nervous about my meeting with Dylan. Mr. Hawke I remind myself. I can't make the mistake of being informal with him. He is my client and we are going to keep a professional relationship. I think I have said that at least a hundred times. I slept like crap. My dreams were filled with my client doing things to my body that left me begging for more.

  How am I going to look at him without remembering those dreams and what it felt like to have his hands caressing my body. The memory sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine. The dreams have left me in sex mode, which is why I am going with the red.

  My red lace panties and matching bra from Victoria's Secret were a splurge, but one I am confident I deserved. I run my hand over the skimpy panties that are really nothing more than a small V shape scrap of material and I imagine Dylan's hand in place of my own.

  “Alexa Jenkins!” I shout at the mirror. “Quit acting like a horny teenager!”

  With my head on mostly straight, I finish dressing. I feel like testing the waters a bit today. The sleeveless black dress I usually wear with a jacket is a little big. Today, I put a skinny white belt around the waist and skip the jacket. It isn't too sexy, but it does prove I have a waist line, unlike my typical work wardrobe.

  I scan my paltry shoe rack, debating whether to stick with the plain nudes I usually wear or to step outside my comfort zone. Fuck it. I'm going all in. I pull out the red pumps that I usually only wear on a date or to the club. Only I know the shoes match my bra and panties. It is a delicious little secret that makes me feel slightly naughty. By the time I get to the club tonight, I am going to be in sexual overdrive. I am not going to be picky. The first man that looks like he could do the trick is going to get a very good time without even trying.

  I take a last look in the mirror and suddenly feel anxious. This is too much. I grab the jacket. I feel too exposed without it. I debate changing the shoes, but decide I want to feel dangerous today. I want Dylan Hawke to find me attractive. I will of course deny any advances. I like the idea of having a little power over the man who is a king in this world.

  I stroll into the lobby of Hawke Enterprises on the 58th floor, not at all surprised by the luxurious furnishings. The man had more money than he could ever spend. It made sense to splurge.

  “Good morning,” I greet a pretty blond secretary. I should have known he would have a beautiful woman at his beck and call. “I'm here for an eight o'clock with Mr. Hawke. I'm Alexa Jenkins with James and Sons.”

  The woman smiles, “Let me get his secretary for you.”

  I'm only a little surprised. I look around, making sure I have the right place. A wide set of solid oak doors opens. A little old lady uses her butt to hold one of the doors open, “Come in, Mr. Hawke is waiting for you.”

  I fight back a giggle. This woman could be my grandmother. No, my great grandmother. This was Dylan's secretary? She had to be related.

  “Thank you,” I say, walking past her to an inner office area with it's own private seating area.

  “Let me pop in and make sure he isn't on the phone,” she says, shuffling across the plush carpet to another massive wooden door.

  She taps on the door once and pops her head in. Apparently he wasn't busy. She waves me over, “Go right in, hon.”

  I smile. It has been a long time since anyone called me hon.

  “Thank you,” I say, taking a deep breath and walking into what I have dubbed the lion's den.

  My heart stops beating for a split second when I lay eyes on him sitting behind a massive desk. He stands. I take a few steps forward and then stop. I can't move another inch. The way he is staring at me makes that flight or fight instinct come racing to my brain.

  Behind me, I hear the door close. Flight is off the table. I have to fight.

  “Ms. Jenkins,” he says, holding my gaze as he walks around the desk, crossing the white plush carpet with slow, steady movements.

  He is walking
towards me and I still can't move. He looks like the lion and I feel like the prey.

  “Mr. Hawke,” I manage to squeeze out.

  He stops, directly in front of me with very little room between us.

  “I'm glad we have a chance to talk—alone,” he says, his eyes still holding mine captive.

  I can't look away. I feel as if there is some invisible thread pulling me to him. His hand moves to my shoulder and he starts to slide the sleeve of my jacket down my arm. The contact creates a literal spark between his finger and my shoulder. I gasp at the jolt.

  His gaze drops to my mouth causing me to involuntarily open it. Before I know what I am doing, I lick my lips. I suddenly have the worst case of cotton mouth. It's his quiet moan that snaps me out of the trance he has managed to put me in simply by looking at me.

  “What are you doing?” I snap, taking a step back while pulling my jacket back up.

  “It's warm. Take off your jacket,” he says in a voice I'm sure he uses when he wants something.

  “I'm fine,” I shoot back defiantly. Take that, you spoiled rich boy.

  He steps toward me, “Take it off,” he says in a low voice.

  I open my mouth to tell him no, but quickly snap it shut. Instead, I feel compelled to comply. It is warm after all. I start to shrug out of the left sleeve, but he stops me.

  “Let me,” he whispers, before sliding the jacket down my arm. “Put down your briefcase,” he commands, which I do, releasing the briefcase from my fingers and allowing it to drop to the floor.

  His other hand comes up to pull down the other sleeve, for a brief moment, I feel as if I am trapped. Each of the sleeves is halfway down my arms, effectively pinning them at my sides. I look up, questioning him. He doesn't notice because he is looking at my breasts. My breath kicks up a notch, inadvertently causing my breasts to rise and fall in time with my breathing. He appears mesmerized.

  Before I knew what he was doing, he rips the jacket from each arm, dropping it to the ground behind me. I feel my dress being unbuttoned, dropping open and revealing my red bra. There is a growl moments before the bodice is pulled open more.

  I open my mouth to protest, but I can't speak. I can't say a word because his lips are pressing into mine. He grabs my hips and pulls me into his own as he grinds his mouth against mine. Instinct takes over and my mouth opens, giving him the entry he is demanding. I hear a low growl, not sure if it came from me or him, but it lights a fire in my belly.

  He is pushing his hips into mine so hard, I take a step back and then two steps and before I know it, I am pressed into the door. With no give, his hips grind into mine. The feel of his erection against my belly nearly makes me climax. I have to have this man. I start grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, tugging them from his pants.

  I cry out when he steps away from me. I need more!

  “No,” he says in a gruff voice.

  I want to scream. He gets me all fired up and then leaves me hanging?

  “What?” I say, dumbfounded by what just happened, quickly scrambling to button my dress.

  “I'm sorry,” he says, undoing the belt I had been trying to release. He tucks his shirt in before fastening the belt and walking back to his desk.

  I stand there, staring, unable to move. I had been so close to ripping the man's clothes off and letting him fuck me against his office door. I can't believe I let him do that. I watch him, arrange some papers on his desk and realize we are going with the 'it never happened' way of dealing with things.

  Works for me.

  “I brought the contract. You'll need to review it, sign it and get it back to us by end of day,” I say, reaching into my briefcase. Doing my best to be calm, cool and collected.

  I slap it on his desk, turn to pick up my jacket from the floor and look back at him, “I have a meeting. Please let me know if you have any questions. Your assistant can reach me anytime. Good day, Mr. Hawke,” I say, spinning on my heel and yanking the door open.

  I win. He thinks he got the last word, but I did.

  “Ms. Jenkins,” he calls my name from his desk. “I'll see you next week. I already know I am going to have lots of concerns. I'll have my assistant schedule a meeting.”

  “No,” I breathe. I can't possibly work with this man. I have a strict no fraternization rule. I never mix business with pleasure. This man threatens to undo everything I have worked so hard for. I have to find a way out of this mess. Dammit! I grumble, stepping into the elevator. What was I thinking?

  Tonight. I will go out tonight, find a man and not come up for air until Sunday. That should cure me of this lust I have for my new client. It has to or I will be in serious trouble.

  6

  Dylan

  “Damn,” I mutter once the door shuts behind Alexa. I almost lost my cool. The woman strolled into my office wearing those red shoes and my imagination instantly jumped to her wearing nothing but those shoes. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of that sexy black bra she wore yesterday, but today's was even better. I loved the red. It was daring, sensual and oh so sexy.

  I knew I had scared her. Instead of lessening my desire, it fueled it. She was the forbidden fruit. She wasn't throwing herself at me. Alexa is the first woman in a long time to appear disinterested in me. I smile, at least she had feigned disinterest until I kissed her. She had turned into a wild cat in heat, nearly ripping my clothes off.

  I only need to get her in my bed once. Then, I'll have scratched the itch and can focus on work and this whole idea of finding a wife. I want to taste every inch of her. I want to know what she is hiding under those ugly clothes. I want to see her without the glasses, which I am now convinced are not prescription.

  She is purposely hiding underneath layers of clothes. What secrets does she hide? I will find out. I will strip her down, lay her naked and exposed, revealing every inch of that pale skin she covers so well.

  The phone on my desk buzzes. Another appointment. I quickly smooth my pants down, making sure there are no signs of the earlier arousal before straightening my tie and smoothing my hair back. This meeting is with the third largest software developer. I have to convince them to go into business with me. They are climbing the ladder too quick and breathing down my neck.

  “Send them in Mrs. Daniels,” I say in my most authoritative yet congenial voice possible.

  I wait in front of my desk to greet the men who threaten my position at the top. The door opens, I paste on my best smile, “Gentlemen,” I say, extending my hand.

  Both men shake my hand, I gesture for them to take a seat and I sit behind my desk. It cements my position as the man in charge.

  “Look, Mr. Hawke, we know why you called this meeting and I think we need to be up front, we are already in talks to purchase Larsen's Software Company. The deal is set. We would appreciate you backing off of them,” the man I knew to be Paul Garwood explains.

  I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. I love a good challenge, “Well, I don't believe anything is set in stone. In fact, my vice president met with them yesterday.” I wasn't lying. Blake had met with them.

  Garwood grins, “Yes, we heard and I don't know who you think you are fooling, but we know that meeting didn't end well. Larsen has no intention of selling to someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” I say in shock. “A successful business man who has made hundreds of small company owners very wealthy.”

  The other man, who I don't know clears his throat, “Mr. Hawke, the Larsens are a christian group and they have some pretty high moral standards. They would prefer our wholesome, family-based business develop their software and marketed it worldwide.”

  I roll my eyes, “Why does it matter? They are selling a product and have no say in what happens once they sign their name on the line.”

  “That's exactly why they like us better. And by the way, I have heard rumors about you putting together an offer to buy our company. Save the ink and the cost of lawyers. We aren't interested,” Garwood says, his cheeks
flushing a little.

  The man is angry. I can't understand why they bothered wasting my time or theirs. Hell yes I want to buy their company. I want to absorb the competition to maintain my position on top. This guy clearly has his eyes set on my top spot.

  I clear my throat, “I don't think it is a matter of liking anyone better. That isn't how business is done. I am the best choice for developing their ideas and paying them the most money.” I sit forward, look Garwood straight in the eye, “We both know I can pay significantly more than you and I am willing to do that.”

  Garwood smirks, “You see, that's the thing about the Larsens. They don't care about the money. Sure, they want to make a nice profit, but they care about their company and their people more. They are family-orientated and are determined to make sure each of their employees is taken care of. They also have a set of principles—and you don't even come close to meeting them.”

  Now, I'm getting pissed. All my life I have been told I am not good enough. I don't measure up. I am flawed in one way or another. My dad is a dick. He made sure I knew how badly I failed every time I missed the ball at a baseball game when I was little. Throughout high school, I never tried hard enough and I wasn't smart enough. I have had it with people telling me I don't live up to their expectations. I'm a fucking billionaire! I can buy anything I want ten time over! If that isn't success, I don't know what is.

  “I think we're done here,” I stand. “I have other, more important things to do. I won't play your game, Garwood. I play my game, my way. May the best man win,” I say with a smile that is so cheesy it makes my face hurt.

  Garwood stands, ignoring my outstretched hand, “There is no game, Hawke. I already won. You're wicked ways are your downfall. Enjoy the next harlot you take to your bed. Soon, I will be on top and you are going to fall long and hard to the bottom, taking all of your sinful ways with you.”