WIFE FOR A PRICE: A Hitman Fake Marriage Romance

by Thomas, Kathryn

  “I’m Joanne, and I will be your waitress for tonight. Would you like to order some drinks?” she said in a chirpy voice, and Devin turned to look at her. On any other occasion, he would have been quick to appreciate the sharp straight nose, green eyes, short white skirt, and the way the fabric of her black shirt stretched over her breasts, the buttons stretched to the brink of popping open. But instead, he just smiled at her, while Camille was engrossed in the menu.

  “A bottle of your best red,” he told Joanne, the waitress, surprising even himself. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but something told him that Camille was. And this place just looked like one of those restaurants that didn’t stock beers. Camille looked up at him briefly and tried to suppress a smile.

  “I can leave the menus with you so you can decide on your food,” Joanne said, and Devin felt her hand graze his as she placed the menu in front of him.

  Camille looked up, apparently noticing, and watched Joanne walk away. “Do they know you here?” she asked, and Devin shook his head.

  “Never been here before, why?”

  She shrugged her slender bare shoulders.

  “I just got the impression that she knew you,” Camille replied meekly and went back to looking at the menu.

  “Have you been here before?” he asked.

  “No, but it looks lovely. The view is beautiful.” He watched as she turned her head to look at the waves. Her eyes traveled over their motion, and she looked distracted.

  “Something tells me you are more than a comic bookstore owner,” he added and wasn’t quite sure where the question had come from.

  Camille looked at him, holding his gaze before finally smiling. “I’m an artist in my spare time,” she said and closed the menu.

  Devin raised his eyebrows just as Joanne appeared again. Camille was an artist. He knew there was more to her than meets the eye.

  “What can I get you?” Joanne asked animatedly. She had a huge smile on her face, and her glittering eyes were focused on Devin. He could sense that she was checking him out - his muscles, his shoulders, and his face.

  “I’ll have the Chef’s special steak,” Devin said, not looking at Joanne directly.

  “Good choice, Sir. I’ll make sure that he gives your steak his full attention,” Joanne replied with a laugh, and Devin finally met her eyes. Unlike Camille, she didn’t shy away from him.

  “You’re very kind.” He handed the menu back to her. Joanne surprised him with a giggle, still not turning to Camille to ask for her order.

  “And how would you like your steak, sir? Something tells me you like your meat well done.” She was openly flirting and still ignoring the presence of Camille at the table.

  “Medium rare,” he said and turned away from her. In another time, on another day, before he had met Camille… this kind of open flirting would have led to a quick fuck in the staff toilets. But not tonight, not when all he wanted to do was talk to the beautiful comic bookstore owner. Alone.

  “Anything else that I can get you, sir?” Joanne asked, emphasizing the last word. She then leaned forward and playfully touched his hand that was casually resting on the table. Devin withdrew it with a jerk and turned to Camille.

  “You could take her order,” he said firmly and watched as Joanne’s face soured a little. But she was quick to regain her composure and turn to Camille.

  That was when he noticed Camille’s face. It was rigid, and her eyes looked icy blue, even though she had a smile on her face.

  “I’ll have the Caesar salad, thank you,” she said bluntly, and Joanne wrote the order down on her notepad.

  “That’ll be all,” Devin said before Joanne could ask them any more questions, or waste any more time lingering. He wanted Camille all to himself again.

  He watched her as she watched the waitress walking away, and then a few moments later she turned to him. She looked like she was trying very hard to put up a front of casualness; like Joanne’s flirting hadn’t affected her at all.

  “She’s sweet. She likes you,” Camille said, and to his surprise, she reached for the bottle of wine that Joanne had placed on the table between them. Camille’s cheeks were flushed again as she poured the wine into her glass and didn’t offer him any. Devin wanted to smile. She was jealous, and he wanted to pull her close to him because of it.

  “Who?” he asked as she took a sip of wine. The liquid glazed her lips, and she shot him a questioning look.

  “The waitress.”

  “What waitress?” He leaned back in his chair, as Camille appeared to suppress a smile again.

  Chapter Five Camille

  Devin had polished off his steak in ten minutes, while Camille took small bites of her salad. She had been drinking most of the wine, as Devin seemed to be forcing himself to keep drinking it. They hadn’t stopped talking.

  “So are you going to tell me what kind of an artist you are?” he asked when he finally stopped laughing at her stories about the kinds of customers who came to her bookstore.

  Camille fell silent; she didn’t know how to begin explaining her comic books and her art to him.

  “I don’t necessarily like to talk about it.” She dropped her gaze to her bowl of salad instead. She could sense his eyes on her, but she didn’t dare to look up.

  “Does that mean that I’ll never get to see it?” he urged her again, and she met his eyes. They were a dark chocolate brown, glittering behind the candlelight that was burning between them. His face was relaxed, exceedingly handsome and rugged. She could see the light dusting of a green late evening shadow forming on his jaws. He smelt the same, masculine and musky.

  His hands were large and rough as they lay on the table on his side. He had focused all his attention on her the whole night, not once turning to look at that flirty waitress, even when she came to serve them their food.

  Camille smiled at him shyly and shook her head. “Not if I can help it,” she said, secretly feeling victorious at the fact that he had a hundred copies of her art. He had bought them but had no clue they were her work.

  They silently looked at each other, which was interspersed with some sipping of wine.

  “Not unless you sing for me,” she said and watched as his face changed. It was his turn to blush, even though she didn’t think Devin Rock was the kind of guy who would blush at anything.

  “Now, why would I do that?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Because you’re a musician. My art is my hobby; your music is your livelihood. Don’t you think I should get a firsthand personal performance from the great Devin Rock?” She laughed as she finished the last dregs of the wine from her glass.

  Devin shifted in his seat and then smiled widely at her.

  “Maybe some other night,” he said, and Camille pouted her lips.

  “Why? Why not tonight?” she asked, and Devin continued to smile. Those dimples on his cheeks were obnoxiously sweet. They added a boyish charm to his looks that he otherwise hid very well. Devin was the definition of man. A hard, rock-solid man. There was nothing sweet or adorable about him, he was all sexy. But when he smiled, Camille noticed the softness in his eyes. Could Devin Rock be soft as a marshmallow on the inside? It was hard to tell, especially when he was looking at her the way he was now. His eyes were narrowed and intense, he was studying her closely. His gaze fell to her cleavage and then swept back to her face.

  “Because I have a different kind of plan for us tonight,” Devin said, and Camille felt her eyes shining. She bit down on her lip and took a large bite of her salad.

  “I’m done.” She pushed her bowl away. She couldn’t wait to see what plan he had in store for them. She hadn’t felt so thrilled before. Devin was a mystery to her, but she was anxious to unravel him and see what layers were hidden beneath.

  Devin gave a short laugh and then shot up his hand in the air.

  Joanne came bouncing towards them a few moments later with the bill on a small glass plate.

  “I hope you both had a lovely evening, a
nd everything was alright,” she said nervously, without looking at either of them.

  “Everything was perfect. Thank you very much,” Camille told her, tucking some curls behind her ears. Devin reached for the bill before she could even look at it and then took out his wallet. He didn’t bother replying to Joanne who stood idly by. She still couldn’t help but watch Devin.

  Camille realized then that was the effect that he had on everybody around him; an instant magnetic pull. Even when they had walked into the restaurant, everyone had turned to look at them. At him. At his leather jacket, at his six foot four inches of pure muscle, at his dark hair, and his ripped body. Maybe they all recognized him too as the famous musician who she still didn’t know him as.

  “There. All done. Shall we go?” Devin asked and stood up from his chair. Camille followed suit, as Joanne stood to the side, waiting to see them off to the door. Devin walked over and stood behind Camille’s chair as she gathered her purse and steadied herself on her feet. Her brain was swimming a little now from all the wine she had drunk so quickly.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Joanne said as Devin walked in front of Camille, and they weaved their way through the arrangement of tables.

  Something suddenly overtook Camille, and she whipped around to look at Joanne, squarely into her eyes. She didn’t know if Devin had noticed and stopped, or just carried on walking.

  Joanne looked surprised too, and she stopped in her tracks behind Camille who was smiling at her widely.

  “Thank you, Joanne. We will enjoy our evening, I hope you enjoy the rest of yours,” she said as sweetly as she could and triumphantly turned again to follow Devin out.

  She couldn’t be sure if it was the wine or a sudden rush of exhilaration. All she knew was that she had never felt this carefree and happy before, at least not on a date. No man before Devin had made her feel so confident in herself, like she could do anything she wanted. But she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her comics.

  ***

  He brought her to the beach. They had walked around the restaurant and away from it, so that now they were strolling in the dark, away from the glistening skyline of Miami. The moon was bright which allowed for a light silvery hue to shine the path they were walking on, and all around them the sand looked like a dusting of precious stones.

  The sound of the waves crashing was a mellow tune, and the warm salty breeze was in Camille’s hair as they walked.

  “This is beautiful. I can’t remember the last time I did something like this,” Camille said as she bent down to pick up her shoes which she had slipped out of her hands. She re-hung them from her hooked fingers. Devin was looking ahead silently and had a soft smile on his face.

  “I come out here sometimes when I want some peace and quiet.”

  Camille turned to him and smiled. “When you’re trying to outrun your millions of screaming fans?”

  Devin laughed. “There aren’t millions of them. I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

  They looked into each other’s eyes. He was much taller than her, and she had to crane her neck up to look at him. She still couldn’t believe she was there - walking with him on this deserted beach. It was like it was straight out of some kind of dream.

  “Camille, come here,” he suddenly said and grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. She was surprised by the force with which he pulled her to him, but the smile dropped from her face when she realized that he wasn’t looking at her, but up ahead.

  Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness so that now she could see two dark figures walking towards them. They weren’t very far away.

  “They must be out on a walk like us,” Camille suggested, but Devin’s eyes were set on the figures. He had stopped walking and so she froze too. She could feel the grip of his large hands on her arm.

  “Just stay close,” he mumbled.

  In a few moments, the two figures came into view. They were men, in similar leather jackets as Devin. One of them was much shorter, while the other was tall but lanky.

  They both had wide sleazy smiles on their faces and were staring at them. Something inside Camille’s chest dropped, her heart was racing. It didn’t seem quite right to see these two bikers on a deserted beach heading towards them.

  Devin said nothing but kept his hand gripped on Camille’s arm, holding her tightly to him.

  The two men walked past them, but then she heard it. The tall, lanky man’s voice was clear as day.

  “Did you see those jugs on her?” he remarked, and the short man laughed.

  “I hope she’s serving him some fries with that shake,” the short one said, and they both broke out laughing.

  Devin’s grip on her arm loosened in a flash, and before she had any time to react Devin had taken a few giant steps towards the two men. The punch came out of nowhere. It had all happened in a split second before even the men knew what Devin was going to do.

  He had punched the tall guy right in his jaw, and the man fell back on the sand with force. The short guy took a step towards Devin, but he had placed his boot on the tall one’s chest as he lay on the sand, bleeding from his nose.

  “Pick him up and leave before I have to call an ambulance for both of you,” Devin growled, and the shorter guy stayed back.

  “It won’t be so simple next time, Devin,” the short guy threatened him, but Camille saw Devin smile.

  “Get out of here.” He took his foot off the other guy’s chest. Devin took a few steps back, with his arm in front of Camille protectively. They watched as the short guy helped the other one get up on his feet.

  “You’re fucked, Devin. You’re minced meat,” the guy with the bleeding nose blubbered.

  “Scoot,” Devin said, his eyes bloodshot and his smile now a frown.

  The two men started hurrying away almost immediately, and Devin stood in the same position and watched as they ran away in the opposite direction.

  “Let’s get out of here. I know where we can go,” Devin said and turned to Camille, grabbing her hand as he took a few quick steps. Camille felt his large hand on hers, and also her heart heavy and beating. She couldn’t believe what had just happened - that Devin had just punched a guy, making his nose bleed.

  He was pulling her away, in the dark, in a different direction and Camille wasn’t sure anymore what was going on. None of this felt like a normal date to her. Devin wasn’t a normal guy. She realized as she followed him, her hand in his, that she actually didn’t know him at all.

  “He called you Devin,” she said loudly so that he could hear her as they ran. The wind was now lashing her hair across her face, and she was beginning to feel out of breath.

  “What?” He turned around to look at her, having slowed down a little.

  “Do you know those guys?” she asked him, and she could hear the nervousness in her own voice. Devin stopped, and she realized she was panting. He had a look on his face that made it clear to her that he was distracted. His focus had shifted from her.

  “Devin?” she urged him again, and this time he nodded.

  “Yes. They know me. They were the people I was hiding from this morning.”

  “They didn’t exactly appear to be fans.” Camille tugged her hand out of Devin’s grip. He was still leading her towards a dark, deserted alcove of the beach. Camille didn’t care where they were headed anymore. All she wanted were some answers.

  “They’re not,” Devin replied. She could only see the back of his head and hear his voice. He was walking ahead of her, leading her to the place he believed would keep them out of the public’s eye.

  “This morning you said you were hiding from your fans.” Camille’s voice was strained and pinched. The breeze was stronger at this end of the beach, and she had to speak louder to make herself heard. Devin didn’t turn around or answer her question. For several seconds there was an eerie silence between them.

  Camille could feel goosebumps on her skin, and she was suddenly cold and scare
d. Who was this guy? Had he been lying to her? Was she in danger?

  “This morning, I lied to you.” Devin turned around as he came to a halt near the edge of the ocean. Camille’s brows crossed as she looked into his eyes. She didn’t know what she was feeling anymore. Whether it was fear or anger or just a fatal sort of attraction towards him.

  “I’m not a musician. I don’t have hundreds of screaming fans. I was running away from those guys, who are out to get me for some reason,” Devin elaborated, watching her as the words came out of his mouth. His face was blank, handsome, and rugged even in the dark. But Camille couldn’t tell what he was thinking.