That wasn’t the only concern, though. For that amount of money, what exactly did Dylan think he was buying? And did it matter?
Let’s face it. If he weren’t famous and I had no idea who he was and he came up to me on the street to ask me out, I would say yes in a heartbeat. And I’d probably beg my lucky stars for the chance to sleep with him.
It was a ridiculous scenario to even think about. Men who looked like him did not go out with women who looked like me.
Well, mom seemed happy if I dated a pimp. Here’s a guy willing to pay me to date him. What does that make me?
I had taken too long to mull over the situation. Dylan’s patience ran out.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand. That’s my final offer, and if you do not accept in ten seconds, then it’s off the table.”
“Whoa,” I said. “Wait a second!”
He stared into me. “Ten. Nine. Eight.”
There wasn’t enough time to form coherent thoughts. A thousand opinions forced their way into my skull, overwhelming me into incoherence. Fleeting images were the only things I could make sense of. Dylan standing in the sun as I’d first seen him. Dad coughing and wheezing but refusing to see the doctor. That dreadful email I’d received ten minutes ago. Dylan’s abs and crystal-white smile. The tiny apartment Mom and Dad had been forced to move into.
“Three. Two. One.”
“I’ll do it!”
My breath came quick and heavy as if I’d just sprinted up the hill to the resort.
Was there a flash of amusement in Dylan’s eyes?
“Excellent.” As affected as I was by the situation, Dylan looked unperturbed, as if he offered a quarter-million dollars for a week’s companionship all the time.
Maybe he does.
The thought triggered a surge of revulsion, of jealousy and anger toward the women who’d fallen over themselves for Dylan in the past. They probably gave him everything he asked for and begged for more. I’d be different. This was strictly business.
I held out my hand. “Shake on it?”
Dylan stood before he gripped my hand. The strength of his fingers sent a shiver through my body. “Oh, this calls for a better way to seal the deal, don’t you think?”
His hand heaved me up and into his arms. Surprised, I only kept to my feet because of his strength supporting me.
“What—”
My question was cut short by his mouth on mine. I was too shocked to fight it, and before I knew it, Dylan Hunter was kissing me.
Really kissing me. For some reason, I’d expected him to be bad at it, as selfish as his public persona portrayed him. Instead, his lips were soft and generous, offering a balanced give and take that drew me in like a moth to flame.
My objections and struggle died before they even started, lost in the storm that swept through my body and stole my ability to think. His hands were on my body, pulling and insistent, grasping my soft flesh and pulling me against his body as he took my expectations of what a kiss should be and shattered them.
Heat overtook me and desire flooded me. In mere seconds, Dylan had me on the hook, desperate for more. I forgot our surroundings, what country we were in, and even my own freaking name. All that mattered was the way his lips toyed with mine, his tongue teased me, and his teeth gently nipped my lower lip.
When he pulled away, I stared up at him, dazed, drunk on lust. Never had a man affected me like that. It shouldn’t be possible.
“Let’s go,” Dylan said, pulling at my hand. He waited only long enough for me to bend over and grab my phone.
“Where are we going?”
“My villa.”
That was a step too far. As good as he tasted, as perfect as his hard body felt next to mine, as fucking ready as my body was for him, I wouldn’t just go back to his place and sleep with him after two short meetings and a kiss.
“Whoa. I don’t know what you think you just bought, but I’m really not that kind of girl,” I said.
Dylan never slowed his stride, and his tight grip on my hand gave me no choice but to follow. “Charles isn’t an idiot. He’ll find out if you stay here instead of my villa, and how will that look? There’s no chance that my fiancée would stay at a resort instead of my villa.”
I connected the dots. I remembered the proposal and the reason for it. “Charles is the guy you’re doing business with? Why does he even care if you are in a relationship?”
“I’ll explain later. We have a lot to go over in a short time.”
I halted and pulled back hard enough on his hand to get Dylan to stop. “Wait! What about my stuff? I need to get it from my room.”
He smiled in a way that was almost a smirk. “Your things are already on their way to the villa.”
“Excuse me? What? How?”
Dylan took the two steps back, forcing me to look up at him as he put his warm hand on my cheek. “How do you think I found you so easily? I own half the resorts on this island. And not a single one of them bears my name.”
He knew I would say yes.
I’d never met someone with such an insane mixture of confidence and cockiness. As far as I could tell, Dylan Hunter always got his way.
Chapter Six
Dylan
With a single knock, I pushed open the door to Penny’s room.
“Are you settled in?”
She didn’t come into view until the door was wide open. At the far end of the bedroom was a set of floor-to-ceiling glass panels centered by sliding glass doors. The wall of glass revealed a tremendous view overlooking the east side of the island, but that wasn’t what captured my attention.
Penny had changed into a flowing black dress that hugged her curves and fell in graceful wisps of fabric. Every time I saw her in a new outfit, I didn’t believe she could look better—until the next time.
A shot of visceral need coursed through my body, and I fought off the impulse to throw her on the bed and have my way with her.
She’s wary enough of my intentions. I don’t need to rush the issue.
As frustrating as it was to be patient, now was not the time.
“Are you ready for dinner?”
She turned her head and smiled over her shoulder. “I don’t want to leave this view. It’s magnificent.”
I approached and put my hand on her lower back as I stood beside her, pretending to take in the view when really, my eyes were unfocused as I let her scent flow into me, intoxicating and sweet.
“It’s close to sunset. We’ll take dinner on the terrace, which faces west. If you think this is nice, wait until you see that.”
Penny leaned into me. Not a lot, but I was so hyperaware of her that I could tell the difference. “Let’s go, then. I can’t believe your villa covers the entire top of this hill.”
“Only the best,” I said. “Life is much better when it’s filled with sights that make your soul happy.”
She didn’t realize that I wasn’t talking about the landscape.
I guided her through the house and out the wide doors to the terrace. It was a wide, spectacular space that could entertain three dozen guests, but tonight, there was only a table set for two in the center of the swirling patterns of decorative stone.
Penny gasped as we approached the table. The sun hovered an inch above the horizon, and the sparse clouds around it were stained a pastel pink that deepened to a bloody color.
“You weren’t lying.”
Again, I watched her more than the sunset. The expressive eyes that so easily relayed her thoughts were wide, as though she would take in the sight and carry it with her for the rest of her life.
She caught me looking. “I’m not going anywhere, you know. But that sunset is.”
I refused to look away, and she blushed and returned her gaze to the horizon.
“Sunsets have always unsettled me,” I said.
“Really?” Penny looked back at me as if expecting a joke. “Why’s that?”
“They’re beautiful. But they’re also r
eminders that a person’s time is finite. Each of us has only a certain number of sunsets in our lives, and we can never know exactly how many that will be. A man has to cement his legacy while he can.”
She snorted and turned away again. “I think you’ve already got that covered.”
I let the comment sail by like a boat on the water.
That’s the problem. I already have a legacy, but it’s not the one I want. I don’t want to be forever known as the man with such an ego that he put his name on buildings all around the world.
“I’ve got something for you,” I said.
Sliding a small box out of my pocket, I flipped the lid open and held it forward for Penny to see.
“Holy fuck,” she said, a hand coming to her mouth.
There wasn’t much light where we stood, but the sizable diamond picked it up and threw it back with an impressive sparkle.
“Try it on,” I urged.
Penny’s hands shook as she plucked the ring from its home and brought it to her finger. She took several tries before it slid onto her ring finger.
She held her hand in front of her, staring at the back of it, her mouth sagging open. It wasn’t a sexy look, but I still found it adorable that something that meant so little to me could evoke such a reaction in the fiery woman.
“It looks incredible,” she said, her voice packed with emotions I couldn’t analyze.
I grinned and let her have a moment. It gave me more time to memorize the contours of her face.
As the sun disappeared, I took Penny’s hand and led her back to the table. Several candles cast enough light to see by, the wavering flames imparting an ethereal quality to the evening. A waiter poured champagne, and I held my glass aloft.
“A toast. To my gorgeous fiancée.”
Penny raised an eyebrow. “How about to me trying not to fuck this up?”
“Good enough.”
She looked so good in the candlelight. And it felt so right to have her there, but I didn’t know anything about her, and that would be a problem when we met with Charles.
“Where did you grow up, Penny? For that matter, where do you live now?”
“I live in Chicago now. Went to college there and stayed. But I grew up in Saginaw.”
An unsteady feeling spread through me at the name. “I’ve done business there.” Unwilling to dwell on it, I pressed on. “You’ve mentioned your parents. Do you have any siblings?”
“Two sisters.” She smiled as her eyes got a faraway look. “Charlotte and Emma. I’m five years older than Charlotte and six than Emma. Total dreamers, both of them. I was always the pragmatic one. They’ll have to grow up eventually, though, because fairy tales like Cinderella don’t happen.”
I laughed and spread my arms. “You don’t feel at least a little like you’re in a fairy tale right now? I could order glass slippers for you.”
Penny scoffed. “Cinderella? No. Beauty and the Beast, maybe.”
I clutched my heart as if I’d been stabbed. “Ouch. You’ve struck a solid blow to my ego, sweetheart. I don’t know how I’ll ever recover.”
“You’ll manage.” A true smile was on her face now, and she was the easiest I’d seen her yet. “What about you? Any family kicking around?”
Family was my sore spot, but it had to be broached. Charles had done his research on me, and it would be strange if my fiancée didn’t know at least the superficial details.
“Parents are dead. One older brother. We never got along too well. I was a jackass when I started my business hustle, and we haven’t talked in over a decade. The idiot won’t accept any money from me, even though he’s a single father to a little girl.”
“You have a niece?” That caught her attention. “What’s she like?”
Her eyes gleamed with the zeal of a woman whose life revolved around the fantasy of shacking up with a man and popping out as many babies as she could.
She just has to be baby crazy. Why are they always baby crazy?
I shrugged. The only way to play this was to make it very clear from the beginning that babies and I do not get along. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met her. No desire to, either. I don’t like kids, and I never plan on having any.”
Penny looked like someone had told her that she’d been elected the new pope. “But you’re all concerned with your legacy, and that’s exactly what children are. Don’t you think that’s the best way to leave a lasting mark on the world?”
To her credit, she approached the issue from a different angle than the usual argument that kids are cute and it’s only natural to want them.
“There are other, more lasting and wide-reaching ways I can change the world. Children would only slow me down in my quest to save the world.”
For once, I’d said something Penny didn’t seem to have a quick reply to.
“Well, we’ll just have to disagree on that front. It’s not like children are part of this contract between us anyway.”
Even the thought gave me a shudder. “Agreed. Just do me a favor and pretend that you’re on my side if Charles or his wife asks. They would know I couldn’t be with anyone who desperately wanted children.”
The rest of the dinner passed quickly. It felt like a normal first date, getting to know Penny and divulging necessary tidbits from my past. That was strange to experience because I hadn’t had a typical first date since I was a teenager. These days, any woman I went out with already knew more about me than I liked—it was rare that I wanted to tell them even more.
As the champagne poured and we talked, Penny got more comfortable. Conversation segued from question and answer to a more familiar dance of flirt and innuendo. The candlelight danced in her eyes as we chatted, and the time flew by as this incredibly complex woman opened herself. Each revelation, each tilt of her head, bite of her lip, and silvery laugh only made me want her more.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Let’s dance,” I said, standing and rounding the table to take her hand and pull her to her feet.
Penny’s eyes widened, and she shook her head with the most serious expression I’d seen in a few hours. “Oh, no, Dylan. I can’t dance.”
Chapter Seven
Penny
Dylan’s eyebrow cocked, itself a question, but he followed it up with a verbal one.
“Can’t, or won’t?”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to dance with Dylan. I burned to dance with him. It was that I couldn’t trust myself to dance with him.
I was floundering, unable to handle how powerfully he affected me in both body and mind. He had been so charming, so personable over dinner that fears grounded in his reputation had fallen away. And he’d been so damn handsome in the soft glow of the candles that I was constantly on the edge of lust.
Luckily, he gave me an out, or at least the appearance of one. “Can’t. I’m not really comfortable with it.”
That was true enough. I was not the most graceful person, liable to trip over myself walking up stairs, let alone swirling around a dance floor with a partner.
If I focused enough on that aspect, maybe I could hide that the real reason I didn’t want to dance with him was that it might break down any remaining barriers I had left to resist him.
“You know that Charles is a member of high society. We may need to dance together while he’s around, and it would be silly to not practice beforehand just in case.” As he had in every interaction between us so far, Dylan had a reasonable, logical answer to my objection that didn’t leave room for argument.
He is paying me a quarter of a million dollars to be his fiancée. I guess if he wants me to dance with him, I should do it.
And if he wanted more than that? Could I turn him down?
“I guess that makes sense,” I said, still fighting to find a way out of it but coming up empty.
Dylan’s smile was at once victorious and encouraging. “It does.” He took my hand and led me away from the table to the edge of the terrace overlooking the island. It wa
s dark now, but hundreds of lights from the town below dotted the hills and defined the arc of the beach.
Music rose around us, seemingly emanating from the terrace itself as though by magic.
With a smooth movement, Dylan drew me close and placed my free hand on his shoulder before wrapping his arm around me. “Just follow my lead,” he murmured in my ear.
The nearness of him and the immediacy of his voice stole my breath away, and all I could do was nod.
His skill was immediately obvious as he used his arm to guide me through the steps. All I had to do was move my feet, and he did the rest, swirling with me around the terrace to the music. It felt almost eerily natural, like we’d been made to do this.
As the song reached an apex and then faded away, Dylan dipped me low and held me nearly horizontal, my entire weight suspended from his shoulders. His lips brushed so close to my neck that my hairs stood on end, but that’s all he did before effortlessly bringing me to my feet again.
“Wow,” I said. My skin prickled, and every nerve was on fire, as if Dylan had awoken the core of who I was, a part of me I’d never known existed. We hadn’t had that much champagne, but I felt heady and uninhibited, drunk on his presence and the way my body reacted to him.
This isn’t the first time I felt like this. He’d teased me into this mood at the resort with his skillful lips.
As he led me around the terrace for another song, I felt like a train barreling off the tracks, heading for a cliff at top throttle. I didn’t even want to stop myself, because waiting at the bottom of the cliff was Dylan’s embrace, his skillful mouth, his hard body, waiting for me to embrace fate and plunge in.
When the song ended, he pulled me close, and I let my hands run up his back and hold onto his muscled shoulders.
“We should practice kissing, too,” he said. “We’ll want it to look natural when we’re near Charles.”
Secrets Abroad: A Fake Fiancée Romance Page 3
