When they left, I smiled.
“They’re gone,” he said.
“Think they bought it?” I asked.
“Hell, I think I bought it!”
We both laughed.
When we got back to the boat, Marcus wrapped his arm around me and pulled me to the other side of the boat.
“Look!” he said.
A pod of energetic dolphins weaved in and out of the waves.
“Dolphins!” I shouted.
I grabbed my camera and took a few pictures. Laughing, I jumped up and down like a kid. What a magical experience. Mrs. Leno from the hospice center was going to be so happy! I had promised her a picture.
We enjoyed the rest of our day, and I was the perfect fake girlfriend. Back in town, I doted on his every need and whim. I held his hand and gazed into his eyes. We laughed and told stories over lunch. We had drinks in this great bar with tropical music. He took me shopping, and I never smiled so much. The guy actually made me like shopping.
We went back and had a romantic dinner on the beach. Lots of cameras there too. But I looked into Marcus’s eyes like a woman hopelessly in love. I was fooling everyone, maybe even myself.
* * *
Later that night, we relaxed in our hotel room and watched a little TV.
After Marcus received a phone call, he turned to another channel.
“What’s up?” I said.
“Got a phone call from my publicist. We’re being featured on that gossip show, TMZ.”
“Us? No way!”
“Yep.”
We kept watching until our story featured.
One of the guys kicked his feet up on the desk. “Yeah, I saw some juicy action in paradise. Barely flew back in time for this show.”
The others laughed.
“Well, it appears our billionaire, Marcus Taylor, is in love. We captured him making out with some chick in St. Thomas.”
The girl on the show laughed. “She’s a little tropical side action?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. He seemed like he was genuinely in love. You should’ve seen the two of them together. It looked like the real deal.”
“It won’t last. It never does.”
“I don’t know. They looked really cute together, and he seemed smitten.”
“So did Cupid shoot him with an arrow or something?”
“I think so. The dude is seriously in love.”
“Well, maybe he’ll grow up.”
“The two showed off some killer dance moves aboard a luxury yacht.”
“So we heard you got some pictures of them making out on the beach,” the girl said.
“Yep.”
They flashed pictures of us, and I blushed.
“These two definitely have the hots for one another,” he said.
The scene went to a commercial and Marcus turned off the television. He then brought me a drink. “They bought it hook, line, and sinker.”
I sipped my wine. “See? I’m a very good actress.”
He sat next to me on the couch and held my hand. “Was that all really acting?”
“I told you I was going to give you an Oscar-worthy performance. Looks like I did just that. Did I earn my paycheck?”
“Man, that kiss. It was amazing. You really got into character,” he said.
“And so did you.”
“When a pretty woman mauls me on the beach, I just go with it.”
I laughed. “It’s called acting. All screen stars do it. Just look at the in-the-pouring-rain passionate kiss in The Notebook.”
“Do movie stars ever fall in love on set?”
“Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall did. But that’s not going to happen to us. This is an acting gig, Marcus, and nothing more.”
He winked. “I would like to do some more acting tomorrow if you don’t mind. Just so we can practice getting into character. I don’t think we perfected it just quite yet. We need much more practice.”
I sighed. “I just hope that won’t be my only television appearance.”
“You’re a wonderful actress. You even fooled me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were completely in love with me.”
I stared at him for a moment, then smiled. “Nobody can fall in love that fast.”
He set his wine down on the table. “So you don’t believe in love at first sight?”
“I’m not even sure if I believe in love anymore.”
He cocked a brow. “Why not?”
“I thought I found love once, and it slapped me in the face. I know I need to be more careful next time.”
“I hear you. That’s why I won’t risk my heart again. I, too, was slapped in the face by love. It’s not so fun.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “No, it’s not.”
“So I just keep dating light and fun.”
“Me too.”
He held up his glass. “To a wonderful weekend.”
We clanked classes and said cheers.
“You can sleep on the bed with me,” I said.
His eyes twinkled at the offer. “That’s a very tempting offer. But I don’t think I could keep my hands to myself. It’s best that I sleep on the couch.”
He softly kissed me on the lips and said goodnight.
“Marcus,” I said.
“Yes.”
“There’s nobody here. You don’t have to keep the charade up.”
He kissed my hand. “But maybe I want to.”
Our eyes locked and I touched his face.
“What’s going on between us?” I asked.
“I’m not so sure myself. We’ll have to see where it takes us.”
“I’m not ready for this.”
“And neither am I. But who is to stop fate?”
“I should be running from you. You’re too dangerous for my heart. And I assure you, I won’t let anyone shatter it into a million pieces ever again.”
“If I were just some player like they claim, I’d be taking you to bed this very second. But I’m not. Maybe that should tell you something about my character. Maybe you should give me a chance instead of listening to all of the gossip.”
“It’s best to keep this as a business arrangement,” I said softly. “You’ll get what you want, and I’ll get what I want.”
He gazed deeply into my eyes. “But I’m not truly getting what I want.”
“You can’t do girlfriends.”
“So it’s best I stick to hiring them?”
“There are no ties with fake ones.”
He laughed. “Guess so. I had a great time today with my fake girlfriend. It gave me a taste of what life would be like if I ever had a real one. And I really liked it.”
I grinned. “Then instead of pretending to turn your life around just to win a client, maybe you should really do it. Food for thought.”
“You’re right. Goodnight, Rebecca.”
“Goodnight.”
He smiled, then walked off to the other room to make his bed on the couch.
* * *
Marcus was gone when I woke up the next morning, no doubt off on another business meeting or charming some other future investor. My itinerary for the day was basically non-existent. It had been recommended that I made an effort to get at least a partial tan, but even on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world, I found myself climbing up onto a rocking chair on the veranda and calling my mom.
“Bex? Is that you? Why are you calling so early?”
I’d forgotten about the time difference. I’d also conveniently forgotten to tell my mother where I was and what I was doing here. That last part might have been intentional.
I wanted to tell her now, but how do I say it? How do I tell my mom that I took off to the Caribbean with an internationally famous billionaire to pretend to be his girlfriend for cash? How in the world did that sound like a good decision?
It didn’t. Because it wasn’t.
I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t really tell her muc
h of anything. In the end, I ended up just listening as she rambled on about her own life, nodding occasionally even though she couldn’t see.
When she finally started winding down to a close, she asked, “So what are you up to? Just heading out to the café?”
A tear slipped down my face before I even realized I was crying. I wiped it quickly away. “Yep. Just…heading out to the café.”
A minute later, I hung up. The phone dropped to the ground as my head dropped into my hands. Silent sobs shook my body, and I hugged a pillow to my chest, rocking back and forth as the tears fell. If asked, I couldn’t even tell you why exactly I was crying. I was on a dream vacation, for fuck’s sake. I should be out there enjoying it. Especially because after tomorrow, it would all be over. And I think that was why I was crying. The thought of never seeing Marcus again kind of hurt. Maybe I was falling for him. It was those damn kisses. I felt something. He didn’t.
A soft knocking on the open door let me know Marcus was back. I dropped the pillow and hastily wiped my face, but he was already on the porch, kneeling on the ground beside the rocking chair and rubbing calming circles into my back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously, eying the phone on the ground beside me. “Did something happen? Did you get a call?”
He wasn’t the head of a multi-billion dollar corporation for nothing. The man didn’t miss much. But about this specific grievance, he was mistaken.
I shook my head, but couldn’t catch my breath to speak. I just sat there, biting my lip and trying to get hold of myself.
The longer I was quiet, the more Marcus seemed to come undone.
“Becca, please. Please tell me what’s wrong.” He stroked back my hair, those ocean eyes searching mine. “I’ll fix it,” he blurted before he could stop himself.
I gave him a watery smile. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me Becca.”
A faint blush tinted the tops of his cheeks, and he dropped his gaze to the chair. “I didn’t think I had the right to,” he confessed softly. “I thought it was a name reserved for your friends.”
“And we’re not friends?”
Two more tears slipped down my cheeks but he wiped them with gentle fingers, placing his hands on both sides of my face.
“I’d think we are.” He leaned down hopefully and caught my eye. “You’re my friend. I’m not sure how you feel about me—you kick and Mace me a lot…” A broken laugh escaped my lips, and he leaned back on his heels, looking pleased. “There’s that smile.”
He waited patiently for another moment or two while I caught my breath and got myself together. Once I finally felt like I was in control, I put on my best “normal” face. “So how did the meeting go last night? Did Takahari say anything else about the merger?”
“That’s not—”
A very strange expression flitted across his face. His eyes tightened around the edges, and it was as if he was seeing me for the first time. His lips parted, but instead of answering my question, he dropped his head, letting his hair spill across his forehead. When he did finally speak, his voice was soft and low.
“Please tell me what’s the matter.”
But this was one problem my daring billionaire couldn’t fix.
I flashed a tight smile, but shook my head, stuffing my cell phone back in my pocket. He understood the subject was closed, but unwilling to leave me alone, he tried a different tack.
“Come to the beach with me?”
I glanced around in surprise. “Now?” The beach was dark. Only the light of the full moon reflected off the tops of the waves, leaving the sand bathed in shadow.
He smiled and held out his hand. “If you like.”
For a second, I considered his offer. Then I laced my fingers through his open hand. I would like. In fact, I would like very much.
We went to the beach a few minutes later.
“Is it cold?” I asked hesitantly, perching on the water’s edge.
He had already waded in up to his stomach by the time I got to the beach. When he heard me speak, he turned around and gave me a breathtaking smile. The moon lit up his curls in a silver halo, and his eyes were the exact color of the starlit sea.
“It’s warmer than you think.” He offered me his hand. “Come on.”
He was right. At first I just dipped in my ankle, but the water was as warm as a bath, and I was quick to scamper in. It wasn’t exactly a peaceful shoreline. It was the kind that kids would love to jump and play in during the day. None of the waves were too rough, but I still squealed and jumped back as a bigger one splashed up to my chin.
Marcus laughed and whirled around. “Are you afraid to get wet?”
I answered him with a resounding wall of water that eight years on a swim team had led me to master. It struck him squarely in the face, and he stumbled back a step, coughing and blinking salt water from his eyes.
“You little—”
The next second, he was charging through the waves. I screamed and dove for cover, but I wasn’t fast enough. I may have perfected the art of splashing, but Marcus had over a foot on me and strong muscular arms. It wasn’t long before the two of us were dripping from head to toe.
“Where did you learn to play like that?” he panted, combing his hair from his eyes.
I shrugged and giggled. “I have an older brother, Max. It was kill or be killed in my family. He made sure I learned to survive.”
“Older brother.” Marcus chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
We laughed ourselves out, then stood in awkward silence on the deserted beach. There wasn’t a soul in sight. No one around for us to keep up the charade. It was just him and me, and all these unanswered questions.
After a few minutes, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Listen, Becca, there’s something you should know. After you left the boat last night, I—”
“Look out!”
I leaped automatically backward as a huge wave barreled toward us, landing me squarely in Marcus’ arms. He covered me protectively as it rained down over our heads, tensing and bracing himself in the sand. When it was finished, we stayed still as statues, panting and blinking the water from our eyes.
“Sorry,” I gasped as I peered up at him. “I didn’t—”
He kissed me.
There was no one else around. No one watching but us.
I kissed him back.
Oh yes…I had undoubtedly, most definitely, gotten in over my head…
Chapter 22
Back in the room, we decided to do a tequila shot. We agreed to just one.
I seductively looked into Marcus’s eyes and softly ran my fingers across his lips. “You know how this works, right? Lick-sip-suck.
He shook his head, grinning.
After his shot, I put some salt on his neck, then I put the lemon wedge in his mouth. His eyes widened as I put the shot in his pants just above the zipper.
“Rebecca, I’m not going to be able to sleep with you in the same room.”
“Am I getting you all hot and bothered? That’s only supposed to work for real girlfriends, right?”
He laughed.
I licked the salt seductively off his ear. He let out a soft moan as my tongue ran up his earlobe. Then I knelt and slammed down the tequila. I swear I could hear his heart racing as I sucked the lemon wedge out of his mouth.
It was so erotic, so sensual.
“You’re teasing me,” he said.
When he went to kiss me, I stopped him.
“No, no. That’s only when the cameras are around. I don’t see any cameras around, do you? ”
He pulled me close. “You’re so fucking hot.”
I gazed into his eyes and softly kissed his lips. “Goodnight, Marcus.”
* * *
I had my weird dragon dream again. Only this time, it wasn’t the dragon that turned into a jigsaw, it was me. The last thing I saw were its ocean-green eyes as a million little pieces of me fell, scorched and burning, back to earth.
I jerked awake, clutching my chest and panting.
Fuck dreams.
I’d slept all night without waking up even once. Pulling on my complimentary bathrobe, I tiptoed down the hall and peeked into the living room. The couch was already neatly made, and there was a note on the pillow. Even after only a few weeks, I already recognized Marcus’ messy scrawl:
Gone to pick up something in town.
Breakfast is on the table.
Gala starts at three.
I’ve been smiling all morning. I can’t stop thinking about you.
- Marcus
I smiled. Was he really thinking about me? Or was it all part of the act? I glanced up at the table to where a plate of fruit and croissants were laid out next to some juice. Nestled up behind the morning newspaper was a bag of Cheetos. I grinned as I crinkled the bag, but I was also slightly relieved that Marcus wasn’t here. After what happened yesterday on the beach…I had no earthly idea what I would say.
It was just a kiss. It never got any further. We never let it get any further. It was tender and passionate, and it took my breath away, but it was just a kiss.
Except…it was so much more.
In the land of Marcus and Rebecca, if two people kissed and no one was there to see it, did it really happen?
I grabbed the bag of Cheetos and headed back to my bedroom, shoving the question firmly from my mind. I didn’t know the answer. All I did know was that the gala was in just a few hours…and we both had a job to do.
As I crossed back down the hallway, I noticed a garment bag hanging from the front door. A paper tag strung to the front said my name.
Of course, I’d almost completely forgotten. Ever since Marcus and I first struck up this crazy arrangement, people on his staff had been working tirelessly on a hand-crafted, couture gown just for the occasion. They’d taken a million measurements and shown me a million different sketches, but I had no idea what they’d actually decided on in the end.
I snatched the hanger from the door and whisked off to the bathroom to shower. With the gala starting at three, I had just a little over four hours to get ready. And in this world of whimsical fancy, that meant I was already behind.
* * *
Bad Boys & Billionaires: An Anthology Page 34
