WIFE FOR A PRICE: A Hitman Fake Marriage Romance

by Thomas, Kathryn

  “Come along with me darlings, as Devin said, you at least deserve a tour. See for yourselves how absolutely stunning he is,” Evangeline declared and after turning on her heels, began to walk away. Camille didn’t want to follow her, but she had no other choice. It was too late to not be a part of Devin’s world now.

  Chapter Ten Camille

  “Now, when this shot was taken, Devin was especially well behaved,” Evangeline said, flipping her long, lustrous brunette hair back over her shoulder. She had a laugh in her voice as she stood beneath the life-sized portrait of Devin.

  Camille looked up. The shot was taken in the middle of Devin cleaning his bike. He had a water hose in his hand that was directed at the bike and a frown on his face. His dark brown intense eyes were staring directly at the camera again as if he didn’t appreciate being interrupted by the photography. He was stripped down to just his jeans, and the tattoos on his torso glistened in the sun behind him. His dark hair was ruffled like he had just woken up.

  Camille could sense Shayna’s awe; she was thoroughly impressed by Evangeline.

  “Is he an unpredictable subject to photograph?” Shayna asked, and Evangeline laughed again.

  “Unpredictable in the best of ways. One minute we’d be tumbling in bed together, and he’d be making me scream with pleasure, and then the next he’d be out of bed, his beautiful naked body the perfect subject for my lenses.” Evangeline rubbed her hands together as she spoke, and even though Camille tried not to look at her, she could sense that Evangeline was directing her words towards her.

  Shayna shifted on her feet uncomfortably. She knew Camille and Devin had sex on the beach, and that Camille wouldn’t be feeling comfortable with this kind of talk. But Evangeline didn’t seem to care that she was making either of the women uncomfortable. She was rejoicing in it.

  “Devin’s body itself is art,” Evangeline added, and Camille suddenly turned to her and smiled. She didn’t want to display her displeasure; she didn’t want to allow Evangeline to feel as though she had succeeded in making Camille feel bad.

  “This one for instance.” Evangeline took a few steps to the left. She now stood beside a black and white photograph of Devin. He was sitting on the porch of a house, with a cowboy hat on, and fully clothed. But his shirt was left open so that his muscular torso was bare and available for anybody to drool over.

  Camille looked away from Evangeline, embarrassed. She didn’t need to be taken on this tour; in fact, she’d had enough of it.

  “This was right after Devin had come back home after a fistfight with one of the other gangs.” Evangeline looked up at the photograph. “His appetite for my body grew every time he was in a fight,” she continued, and Camille gulped. This was completely inappropriate, Camille thought; she didn’t need to hear this. But Evangeline was saying all this on purpose. She wanted to make it clear to Camille that she had been with Devin, many times. And that she’d had everything Camille was now getting. Shayna remained silent as well, but Camille knew her friend would take her side no matter how much she appreciated Evangeline’s work.

  “So he threw me on his bed, made me cum and then walked out and sat on the porch with a glass of whiskey,” Evangeline continued, disregarding the silence from the other two women. “I couldn’t resist the shot. I followed him with my camera. I was fully naked!” Evangeline laughed loudly. She was enjoying herself, even though she could see that Camille was suffering. This was not the kind of tour that Devin had intended for her… or had he?

  Camille couldn’t stop thinking why Devin would leave her alone with a spiteful and embittered ex-girlfriend. Did he not know what Evangeline was like? Or was he trying to scare her away? Was he trying to push Camille away so that he wouldn’t have to directly break up with her? Break up from what? Was this even a relationship?

  “Look at those lines. Those angles on his face.” Evangeline raised herself on her toes, to extend her hand and touch the photograph. Camille watched with contempt. There was no denying it; Evangeline was beautiful and graceful. She was touching Devin’s face, admiring him and her handiwork. It was so clear to see that the relationship wasn’t over in her eyes; Evangeline was still not over Devin.

  “Every time I take a photograph of Devin, and try to sell it, it’s gone before I bat an eyelid. Women love having framed photographs of Devin hanging on their bedroom walls. I have some clients who have an entire collection. They just can’t seem to get enough of him.” Evangeline turned to Camille and smiled. Camille forced out a smile and nodded.

  “It’s easy to see why. These photographs are stunning,” she replied, lifting her chin up.

  Evangeline raised a neat high-arched eyebrow. “As is Devin,” Evangeline said, and Camille kept the smile on her face. Try as she might, Evangeline wasn’t going to see Camille drool over him. She wasn’t going to do it for Evangeline’s pleasure.

  “If he’s invited you here, he must think you’re really special,” Evangeline remarked suddenly, and a frown appeared on Camille’s face.

  “Camille is a great artist,” Shayna said nervously. It was obvious that Shayna’s defensive mode was on; she was trying to protect her friend’s dignity.

  “I’m sure she is.” Evangeline reached for Camille and placed a cold hand on her arm. She had a gentle, brittle touch like she could break any moment. It made Camille’s skin crawl. “And I’m sure he sees something more in her too. Big boobs and parting legs.” Another loud laugh exploded out of Evangeline. Camille felt her cheeks flush and her neck grow hot. She roughly pulled her arm away from Evangeline and then felt Shayna’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t say anything,” she said through gritted teeth, just loud enough for Shayna to hear.

  “There you girls are,” Camille heard Devin’s voice behind her, and then he appeared. He walked straight past Shayna and her and over to Evangeline, placing a small quick kiss on her right cheek. Camille’s face was still burning up with rage. She couldn’t believe Evangeline had just said that right to her face… and then laughed!

  She wanted to disappear.

  She wanted Devin to come to her rescue, to stop kissing Evangeline politely on her cheeks, and to take her away from this place. But he still couldn’t sense her discomfort. He seemed proud that his ex-girlfriend and his new maybe girlfriend were getting along so well.

  “I’ve been giving them the tour,” Evangeline said, leaning on Devin’s arm, as he shifted his gaze to Camille. She could see the pride in his eyes, and also a certain sense of satisfaction. She knew she wasn’t smiling; she couldn’t keep up the act.

  “Well, Camille doesn’t seem to have been enjoying it,” Devin replied, and without warning, took a few steps towards her, placing himself directly in front of Camille. She had to crane her neck up to look at him, and when their eyes met, she could feel a flush of happiness flooding her body. Just the sight of him made her feel like everything was going to be fine. Nothing could go wrong now.

  “I enjoyed it. The photographs are lovely,” Camille said in a quiet voice, and then Devin suddenly bent his head and kissed her on her lips. The kiss came out of the blue. It was short, and it took her by surprise, but when they parted Camille was gasping for breath. She couldn’t believe he had just done that. It was the perfect payback for Evangeline. Camille’s heart was beating so fast that she thought she might faint.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Evangeline’s face twisted in rage. Her pale skin had suddenly darkened; she couldn’t stand watching Devin kiss anybody else.

  “So is it business as usual?” she asked in a high-pitched voice. Camille smiled when she realized that Evangeline was desperate to interrupt them and bring the attention back to her. Devin turned to look at her, and Evangeline smiled weakly. She had folded her arm over her chest and perfect small breasts. Camille raised her chin, confident again, and studied Evangeline’s nervous flushed face.

  “As in, do the proceeds from the sale go to the same charity?” Evangeline asked, and from t
he look on Devin’s face, it seemed that Evangeline had asked him a very obvious question. Camille smiled when she realized that Devin had no idea the political battle that the women in his life were playing. He was just confused.

  “Yes, obviously,” he said with his brows crossed and Camille placed a hand on his shoulder to distract him from Evangeline again.

  “What charity? You donate the money raised here to charity?” Camille asked, and Devin turned to her. He looked flustered and at a loss for words.

  “It’s nothing. Maybe I should go find us all some drinks.” Devin started walking away from them. Camille’s hand dropped to her side, and she looked at Devin as he weaved through the crowd. She had no idea what had just happened. What was the meaning of that reaction? Why did donating to a charity embarrass him?

  “Really, Camille. You shouldn’t be prying,” she heard Evangeline’s clipped voice, and she swung her head around to look at the woman.

  She was still standing with her arms crossed over her chest; her feet planted firmly on the ground. Her long pale leg had appeared through the slit in her velvet dress, and she had the appearance of a villain in a superhero movie, with her dark silvery makeup and lips. Camille looked back at her with her eyebrows crossed.

  “It was just a simple, innocent question.” Shayna was the one who answered, coming to her defense.

  Evangeline was grinning again; fluttering her long lashes from Camille to Shayna and then back at Camille.

  “Do you always have your sidekick answer for you?” Evangeline asked, and for the first time, Camille heard the malice in the other woman’s voice. Until now, Evangeline had done a good job of pretending to be a civil and courteous hostess. But she couldn’t pretend anymore. There was rage dripping from her voice.

  “Thank you, Evangeline, for the tour,” Camille said, no longer smiling. She didn’t want to have a public fight with this woman. She grabbed Shayna by the arm and made to turn away, but Evangeline stopped them again with her voice.

  “You think you understand him, but you don’t. He is more sensitive than you think he is. He has more secrets than you can imagine.” The same calm frozen look on her face had returned. Evangeline was a master at disguise. She wouldn’t allow herself to lose her composure for too long.

  “You should be careful around him. If you can handle him at all,” she added and threw them a smirk.

  “Whatever happens between Devin and me is private, but thank you for your concern Evangeline,” Camille said, spitting the words out at her.

  “It was a pleasure,” Evangeline replied before walking away from them. Camille and Shayna both remained silent as they watched Evangeline walk back into the crowd. With her head lifted high, her long thick dark lashes fluttering, she was poised and ready to play hostess again.

  “What on Earth was all that about?” Shayna asked as Camille loosened the grip on her arm.

  “I don’t know. Jealous ex-girlfriend I suppose.” Camille dragged her gaze away from Evangeline. Shayna shook her head and pressed her eyes shut tightly and then opened them back up.

  “Don’t you think you should stay away from that man? Nothing about him seems normal.”

  Camille sighed and beamed at her friend. “I refuse to do anything Evangeline wants me to do,” she told Shayna with great determination. Camille knew she couldn’t stay away from Devin even if she wanted to. He had become a raw compulsion that she just had to have again.

  Chapter Eleven Devin

  Devin walked quickly into the restrooms at the end of the gallery, avoiding the advances of all several people who had hoped to chat as he passed by them. He entered a stall and locked the door behind him. Inside, he remained standing, placing his hands on the shut door and breathing deeply.

  He wasn’t quite sure why his heart was racing. And why he was so embarrassed by telling Camille the truth about the charity. There was nothing wrong with donating to a charity, in fact, he was certain that Camille’s kind heart would be impressed by it. And yet, he didn’t want to tell her, not yet.

  Devin pressed his eyes tightly shut and tried to regain an even breath. He donated to the Association of No-Kill Dogs, a charitable organization run by a small team of dog lovers who tried to home and re-home dogs left at pounds who were about to be put down. There was nothing wrong with the charity, but he slowly realized why he was so afraid of telling Camille about it - she would have questions, and he was not ready yet to tell her about his life, and explain why he had such a soft spot for dogs.

  As Devin’s eyes remained closed, an image of his father floated in his head. Devin gritted his teeth. His emotions for his father were mixed. He respected the man and valued the hard lessons that he taught him as a child, which allowed Devin to become the person he was now. But there were also parts of the man Devin could never figure out.

  At their farm in Pennsylvania, a pair of dogs had wandered onto the property, and Devin had watched his father shoot them right between their eyes with his old shotgun before dragging the limp bodies into the shed and burying them.

  His father had grunted an explanation when Devin had asked him why he shot the dogs.

  “They trouble the sheep,” his father had said, paying no heed to the torn emotions of his seven-year-old son. Devin had never asked again or tried to stop his father. The man was bigger, stronger, and had the strength of his convictions. But at that moment, Devin had decided that he would do everything he could, when he grew up, to save the dogs, and try and atone for his father’s cold-hearted sins.

  Yet Devin loved his father, even though he witnessed his mother’s misery. Even though he saw every day that his mother suffered because she felt unloved, yearning for her husband’s touch and affection. But his father worked tirelessly on the land, returning home only for his dinner and for the warmth of the bed at night, while his mother waited on him.

  They were both gone now, and Devin could never be entirely certain if he were anything like either of them. Well, he was definitely not like his mother, soft spoken, obedient, and entirely devoted to a husband who had never even so much as touched her hand after Devin was born. But was he like his father? Did he only care about his own success? Only about work? Was his heart made of steel?

  Devin shook his head and opened his eyes, and stared at the locked door of the bathroom stall. Was that why he liked dogs and animals more than people? Because, like his father, he could never get close to any human being?

  The faces of women he had slept with then floated up in front of his eyes. All the women who had thrown themselves at him, who he had spent only a night with, and the ones he had pushed away. So he was exactly like his father, Devin admitted to himself in the silence and the dim light of the restroom. Was he going to hurt Camille? Would Camille, like his mother, remain silent and suffering all her life with a man who couldn’t show her affection?

  Devin hit the door with the base of his palm. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry. Nothing had happened. He had simply frozen when Camille asked him about the charity. He could tell her if he wanted to, and perhaps she would think nothing of it. But a part of him wanted to explain, a part of him told him that he owed her an explanation; to warn her what she might be getting herself into and that she might be better off staying away from him.

  The dogs that his father had killed and all the dogs that his donated money helped protect were symbols. They were symbols of the burden of being his father’s son. Devin was who he was because of the lessons his father had taught him. Was it in his nature, therefore, to not be able to love wholeheartedly? To not love a good woman?

  Devin unlocked the stall door and walked out towards the mirrors that lined the back wall of the restroom. He splashed his face with cold water and enjoyed the tingling sensation of the drops evaporating from his face.

  Despite all the demons of his past that he was fighting against, the one thing he was sure of was that he wanted to be with Camille again. He wanted to see her face, watch her blue eyes smile, and her blonde
curls shake with her innocent laughter. It was getting harder for him to stay away from her; even a few minutes felt like a lifetime. So he did what his father would never have done, he walked back into the gallery and looked around until he found her standing alone underneath a photograph, admiring it with her sad, sullen eyes.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked as he walked up behind her, and traced the curve of her neck with his forefinger. He could feel the goosebumps appear on her flesh under his fingertip.

  Camille turned to him, her cheeks blushing. He had caught her thinking about him.

  “I was admiring your picture - how calm and satisfied you look. Evangeline does a good job of capturing you in your best moments,” Camille said and reached for his face. He hadn’t expected her to; he had expected her to be shy around him, to blush and look away, but there was a sudden conviction in her voice and bravery on her face. She was not going to back down.