Tempting Her Fake Fiance

by Julie Particka

  “Truth is you did me a favor. I hadn’t been happy with Paul in a long time. The old me would have stuck around forever trying to make it work.” She shrugged, holding out her plate of food and pushing Lissa’s cucumbers away, giving them a pointed look. “I’m learning that life is a lot more worth living if he isn’t in it. Canapé?”

  Shoving the vegetables farther away, Lissa asked, “How did you know the food was his influence?”

  Tipping her head to the side, Stasia wrinkled her nose. “He had me on the cucumber diet once upon a time, too. I paid attention this week, and I’m guessing he’s spent the months since our divorce telling you how fat and unattractive you are. He’s wrong. You’re gorgeous, and you can do much better than him. The red suits you.”

  “Is it that obvious how much I changed?” At Stasia’s nod, Lissa’s shoulders slumped. “In that case, I want one of your tartlets.” She plucked one from the plate and stared at Paul as she chewed. “I think I’m taking off early. There’s no news here, and being around him turns my stomach at this point. What he did this week to you and Evan was inexcusable.” Stasia only shrugged. Paul would do whatever it took to get ahead; nothing would change that. Lissa plucked a card from her clutch and passed it over. “I know we probably can’t be friends, but if you ever need anything…”

  Like a job? “I’ll definitely keep you in mind. There are no hard feelings.” Stasia smiled and tucked the card in her purse, realizing just how much she meant the words.

  “In that case, you’re a much better person than I am. I wish you the best. Truly.” With that, Lissa stole another tartlet and disappeared into the crowd.

  After the first stanza of her favorite song, a less welcome presence took Lissa’s spot.

  “Hello, Paul.” Somehow, the words hadn’t come out as angry and bitter as she’d expected.

  “Hi, Stasia. You look incredible.” He edged closer, his arm brushing hers. “I made a mistake.”

  “Only one?” Again, more teasing than brutal—the negativity just wasn’t there anymore.

  He nodded. “Touché, but I meant you. This week, I saw the woman I first fell in love with. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her.”

  Stasia froze. This was it—the moment everything had been building toward. All she had to do was push him to make a declaration of his intent and shoot him down as viciously as possible.

  But she just couldn’t work up enough emotion to bother. There was only one person in the room who made her feel anything, and she’d made sure to let him know exactly how much she wouldn’t conform to his life. Blowing out a deep breath, she turned to Paul. “There was a time I thought you were perfect. Not just perfect for me, but perfect all around. We both know I was wrong on all counts. You and I don’t belong together; we never did. We were a grand experiment to prove opposites can attract and work—it failed. Funny thing is, in the meantime, I actually found my perfect man, and I’m going to lose him because as perfect as he is for me, I can’t live in his world.” She twirled her glass, watching as it reflected the lights. A long, slow drink of champagne, and Paul still hadn’t left. Time to put an end to this once and for all. “I wish you all the success in the world, Paul, but I don’t want to be a part of it.”

  “You want to be with him.” It wasn’t a question, and she knew full well who the him referred to—the man Paul had tried to ruin.

  “Yes. More than that, though, I want to be happy with me, because I remember who I was when you met me, too, and I like her—a lot.”

  “Then I guess this is it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hug for old time’s sake?”

  “I think we’re past doing anything for old time’s sake,” she said, catching a glimpse of the two men following Marcus Nightbridge through the door. They weren’t in evening wear and strode with far too much purpose for partygoers. The studio had found their culprit, and it looked like success would be the last thing Paul had to worry about after tonight.

  She should have been gleeful.

  Instead, she felt a fleeting pang in her heart that Evan wouldn’t be standing with her to watch him being taken away. After tonight, he wouldn’t be standing with her for anything.

  She turned away, catching sight of Evan near the stage, and blinked. Even now, they were alone, separated by too much space and too much hurt. A single tear traced the curve of her cheek before splashing on the chiffon and disappearing.

  …

  Evan waited by the stage, ready to throw up. Travers had stood so close to Stasia he could have wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. Evan had wanted to rush over and pummel the jerk, but it had been the moment Stasia had been waiting for all week. And she’d done nothing but talk. So much for publicly embarrassing her ex. After everything they’d gone through together in order to exact revenge on him, it wasn’t enough—not for Evan. At least Travers was gone—out the door on the arms of security.

  Jesse Stanford, bass guitarist for Trigger Happy, leaned away from the mic as the band played the bridge. “Hey, you still doing this?”

  Now or never. He had this one chance to make everything right. And, no matter Stasia’s reaction, he wouldn’t forgive himself for never, regardless of how badly he was shaking. “Yeah.”

  “Good, you’re up next then.” Jesse went back to playing, and Evan turned from Stasia. If he watched her any longer, he’d lose his nerve. He blew out breath after breath, trying to quiet the voice in his head that kept calling him an idiot.

  After talking to his sister, he had far too much time on his hands to plan his apology. Far too much time to play devil’s advocate—until he’d come up with the one option he knew Stasia couldn’t ignore. Considering she’d brushed aside all his earlier attempts at a private conversation, he didn’t have another choice, and he was terrified.

  He hadn’t had stage fright since his first performance as a kid. He’d panicked, darting behind the curtain and crying. Vicky had found him, swatted the back of his head, and told him to get back out there because nothing he did onstage could ruin the play more effectively than running off would. The voice admonishing him in his head was suddenly replaced with the more recent sound of Vicky saying, “Fuck you, jackass.”

  Okay, Vicky, I’m about to be that kid trying desperately to overcome stage fright again. Honesty is going to spill off this stage until I’ve got nothing left. But I promise I won’t run away.

  “Now, let’s give a warm welcome to the guy who burned up the screen tonight! My friend and all-around badass, Evan Stone.” Jesse stepped back from the mic, leading the applause.

  Waving, Evan strode onto the stage. He tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace, so he let it drop and just started talking. “Someone asked me recently why I don’t have a band.” Stasia’s head shot up, her brows knit together, and she turned toward the stage. God, she was so beautiful it hurt just looking at her, but he wouldn’t turn away. “I told her I didn’t want to take gigs from real musicians, but it turns out if you ask them really nicely, sometimes, they’ll let you pretend their people are yours.”

  He nodded to Jesse, who counted down for the band. The keyboard started the song off, and then Evan dove into the lyrics, weaving a story about a woman waiting on a superhero to show up and save her from her life. He poured every ounce of feeling he had into the words as he stepped off the stage, not to run, but to make his way closer and closer to Stasia as he neared the end of the song. His heart thundered, making it hard to hear the band over the blood rushing through his veins.

  The people around him clapped and stomped in time with the rhythm as he went, spurring him on and chasing away the fear. There wasn’t anything that mattered more to him than Stasia, and he wasn’t going to let her go without a fight—he only hoped she didn’t run. He’d chase her to the ends of the earth, but he’d rather just hold her tight again. He hit the last line just as he stopped in front of her, standing there silent as the band finished the song.

  When he raised the mic to his li
ps again, he was talking to her but wanted to be sure everyone heard him. “Babe, I know you don’t need a hero to come to your rescue. I get that now. But the thing is, I need you. Without you by my side, it’s like Superman wearing kryptonite. I’m weaker. I’m less of a man. I’m fucking lost. I know we started this journey for all the wrong reasons, but somewhere along the way, I started having all the right feelings. There was no jolt-of-lightning when I fell in love with you, but it happened, anyway. From that first second, you worked your way bit by bit, moment by moment, into my soul. It just took you walking away for me to realize I can’t live without you now. You’re a part of me, and I need you.”

  Stasia didn’t respond. She just bit her lip and shook her head, her eyes unreadable as they shone with unshed tears.

  She thought it was still part of the act. He could see it, feel it. Jessica was going to kill him, but he didn’t care. Not anymore. Evan slipped the ring off Stasia’s hand and turned toward the crowd. “We lied to you. Stasia and I weren’t engaged. We only met last week at the interviews.” Gasps and angry grumbling sounded around him, but he plowed on. “There were reasons for what we did, but they don’t matter now, because I screwed up. You see, over the course of the week, I fell in love with this incredible woman for real, and then I tried to put her in a box.”

  He turned back to find Stasia wiping tears from her cheeks. “You were never made to fit inside any box. You were made to fly like we did on the coasters and in the dune buggy. You were made to be free, but I am really hoping you might want to be tied down a little with me. Babe, I’m in it to win it. Not my career. Not my family. You. I will give up Hollywood, and everything that comes with it, if I can have you. The only thing I want back is your fingers linked with mine, the way it makes my whole being feel alive and strong.” He stretched a hand toward her, holding his breath and hoping.

  Reaching out tentatively, she wrapped her fingers in his.

  Showtime.

  No. Not showtime.

  Time to get real.

  Evan dropped to one knee and looked up at her. “No games. No acting. No lies. This is just me, Evan Kermit Stone, asking you, Anastasia Louise Grant, if you will give me the chance to be the guy who shows you how to live and love again. For real this time.” He pulled a box from his jacket and snapped it open.

  Stasia’s giggle at his middle name vanished as she sucked in a breath, her eyes darting from the ring to his face. “It’s…the ring.”

  “Not exactly, but it was as close as I could find after scouring stores with a very confused fashion consultant named Alice.” They’d spent the entire morning running from one antique store and jeweler to another, until they found a reasonable facsimile of the ring Stasia had admired the day he’d purchased the one she hated. She stared at it so long his knee started to hurt and his hope wavered. She didn’t look like she was still angry, but she wasn’t responding, either. The only thing that kept him sane was her hand in his, holding on as tight as he was. “I’m a huge fan of the dramatic pause, babe, but this isn’t a movie. This is just us.”

  Her lips twitched. “And a couple hundred random cast, crew, and members of the press?”

  He laughed, glancing around at all the people waiting on an answer with him before returning his gaze to the only person in the room who mattered. “And them.”

  “I can’t marry you. I’ve known you a week, Evan. It doesn’t matter that I fell in love with you. This is too much way too soon.”

  “That’s why I didn’t ask.” When her brow furrowed, he continued, “I would love to marry you someday, but I want us to blaze our own trail to that moment. Not for the press, not for anyone else. This ring… It’s my promise to you. To the truth, always. To love you with every beat of my heart. To spend every waking moment making you the happiest woman I possibly can. All you have to do is take it.”

  Stasia opened her mouth to respond but then pressed her knuckles to her lips.

  “Come on, babe, I promised a little girl named Bailey that I had to protect you forever because you were the only one who could keep Doctor Angel away from the Time Phantom. Don’t make me into a liar—not to cute, little Bailey.” It was an evil tactic to pull out, but she’d told him that night at the pool table that they didn’t have to play fair. And in this case, it was worth it.

  A laugh broke through her facade and she dropped her fist. “Can’t have that, can we?” She bit her lip again, letting it go slowly. “Tell me again about falling in love with me?”

  “How about this instead. I am in love with you. I was trying to tell you that night at karaoke, but—”

  “Wait. You…” She tugged on his hand until he stood. “That was real?”

  How had she not known? How had he been so stupid as to not make sure she believed? He’d loved her all along, and he didn’t ever want to stop. “Everything from our first kiss on was real for me.”

  Tears fell from her eyes as she smiled. “For me, too. You are my hero, and you saved me in more ways than I can possibly explain. But most of all, you saved me by making me think I couldn’t have you. It made me realize I could hold my head high, even in the aftermath of all the madness this week. Maybe, just maybe, I feel a little more like I deserve you now. So, yes, I will take that promise and give it right back to you. This week was about finding each other. The future is about discovering each other.”

  Real. She was really his.

  Evan felt like he could fly with the way his heart soared. He wrapped his arms around her and spun her in a circle. When he set her back on her feet, he leaned his forehead against hers. “Then we have a lifetime for me to figure out how to deserve you.”

  This time when he kissed her, he didn’t care about camera flashes or the applause or anything else. No matter how the press tried to spin it, this wasn’t like the movies at all—it was better.

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  When the door to the suite popped open, Stasia shrieked and darted into the bedroom, her pulse racing. “Get out. Now. You know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!”

  It felt like they’d been apart days rather than the few hours since the rehearsal dinner. Since his announcement at The Game Maker premiere, they’d had a few stretches of time where they’d been separated because of his job, but never when they were in the same place. Knowing he was two floors down, but that she couldn’t see him, was a special kind of torture.

  “Are you in your dress?” Evan’s voice came from the other side of the wall. Two steps and he’d be in here with her.

  She could almost feel his fingers brushing over her skin, and shivers coursed through her. “No. I didn’t plan to sleep in it, but it’s hanging in here, all steamed and ready for tomorrow.” She cast a glance at the dress. She’d tried it on earlier, and the white silk hugged her in all the right places. Before she met Evan, she never would have worn it. Now, she couldn’t imagine a life where she shied away from being seen.

  She’d told him she didn’t need all the flash since it was her second wedding. He’d replied that it was his first, and the only one that mattered, so she was getting the white dress and the giant cake and all the other things that went along with a Hollywood wedding.

  But if she was doing that, she was paying heed to all the superstitions, too—which meant he couldn’t enter the room, no matter how badly she yearned for him.

  Evan didn’t seem nearly as concerned. “As I recall, that rule had more to do with seeing the bride in the dress. So, I won’t come in the bedroom.” Her brows knit together. She’d been certain he’d come for sex. “What are you wearing if not the dress?”

  What the…? “Bra and panties.”

  “The ones I sent over?”

  A grin crossed her lips before she could stop it. Teasing was part of their relationship—one of her favorite parts. They kept each other on their toes, and things never got boring. “Oh, was that you? There was no card.”

  “Maybe not, but I sent a pair with red
satin trim that would go very well with this.” He dangled a red ribbon—the red ribbon—in the doorway and then let it fall to the floor. “But if you’re wearing the wrong pair, we can skip it.”

  Stasia’s heart beat faster as she remembered him tying her down and torturing her with the feather tickler. The toys had never come out again, and she’d wondered more than once if Evan had gotten rid of them. She’d thought about asking, but it wasn’t as if their sex life needed more spice. But since when had life with Evan been about focusing only on what they needed? This was something she desperately wanted. Heat coiled low in her belly as she stared at the puddle of silk on the floor.

  “Wait.” She pressed her lips together. They’d spent so much time together tempting fate, would once more really hurt? Especially when she could already feel his lips on her skin? “You won’t come in the bedroom?”

  “Never intended on it. I want to be wowed by you in that dress tomorrow. Tonight, I want to be wowed by you in nothing but a few scraps of silk.”

  That was it; she was done for.

  In two steps, she was next to him, holding the ribbon and pressing herself against the strong chest of her soon-to-be-husband. Her hero.

  “Hey, babe. You look amazing.” With a single finger, he traced her jawline and then ran his thumb over her lips until she shivered.

  “You haven’t even looked at the lingerie. You’ve just been staring at my mouth. How can you be so sure?”

  “Because you always look amazing to me.” Now, he did cast an appreciative glance over her form, but he needn’t have bothered. She knew how he felt. She saw it in his eyes every time they were together. Taking the ribbon in hand, he twisted it around her wrists until they were secured behind her back. Then he leaned in close and whispered, “I looked now—just like every other time, I’m not wrong.”

  Before she could retort, his mouth covered hers, and he pressed her backward. One hand stayed against her spine, supporting her as they moved, but he could have let go. She didn’t mind if she took a tumble. She’d fallen for him before—once more wouldn’t hurt.