A Model Fiancé

by Kaye, Nikky

  “Oh god.”

  It was all too much. The scrape of his stubble against my neck, his tongue on my pulse, his steely arm around me. It was what romance books would call a bone-melting kiss, and my bones… well, they melted.

  “Uh oh,” he muttered as I slid down.

  His hands moved as deftly as any magician’s, holding me up and lifting me onto the bed. My legs dangled over the side as I sat on the edge, clinging to his shirt.

  “Maybe you’re more… tired than I thought.”

  My eyes flew open to see his raised eyebrow. The rest of his face was impassive unless you looked closer at his clenching jaw and the faint perspiration above his upper lip.

  “I’m not drunk, I’m horny!” I clapped my hand over my mouth. Okay, maybe I was a little tipsy. Light-headed, anyhow, but that was his effect on me.

  He grinned. “Good to know.” His legs bracketed mine as he stood in front of me.

  I meant to just slap his chest but my fingers lingered there, diving between the buttons of his shirt to tease the skin beneath. My gaze darted up and down, from his eyes to his neck.

  “Would you be interested in… uh…” I hesitated.

  “Coffee?” he joked.

  “A fling?”

  We spoke over each other. Stopped. Stared. Sounded it out in our brains.

  “You want to throw coffee at me?” Dev asked.

  I sighed and swallowed my fears. “Let me try this again. I know you’re busy and you travel a lot, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Are you around much at all?” As I asked, I realized that I wasn’t even sure where he lived these days.

  “Some. Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “I only get out of bed for ten thousand dollars a day,” he informed me, preening playfully like the model he was.

  “What’s the price for getting you into bed?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  I looked him square in the eye. “I want to have a fling.”

  “I see.” He rubbed his chin. “Is this part of wanting to be more spontaneous, like you said earlier?”

  “Sort of.” It was part of wanting him. “I’m interested in a…” I mentally Googled. “Casual relationship. I want to stop taking things so seriously.”

  Something in his gaze clouded over. Crap. He was going to turn me down; I just knew it. Did he only see me as his friend’s little sister? I thought we had some kind of chemistry though.

  Then again, so did meth.

  He stepped back, out of arm’s reach. “Audrey…” His hands dove into his pockets.

  “Just think about it, okay? You don’t need to tell me now.”

  When I slid off the bed, my skirt rose dangerously high. The strangled noise he made reassured me. Maybe I had a chance.

  Dev opened the door. Toyed with the handle. Stared at me like I was one of those 3D hidden picture things. Then opened his mouth to say goodnight—

  “Let’s get married first.”

  5

  Dev

  The stunned look on Audrey’s face would haunt my dreams. It was like I’d opened a wound, and then I remembered her broken engagement.

  Shit fuck damn.

  “I meant, let’s get through the wedding first,” I quickly said. “Brett and Shannon. They’re getting married. Not…” I waved between the two of us.

  “Right.”

  After an incredibly awkward silence, I stepped into the doorway. Holding the heavy door open with my shoulder, I beckoned her closer. She padded over to me, her gaze on the carpet. With a blank expression, she raised her flushed face expectantly.

  “I’ll think about it,” I promised her. Hell, yeah. It would be all I could think about.

  Slowly she nodded. “Goodnight.”

  The door closed, but not on her proposal. No, that had me tossing and turning for the rest of the night. I wanted to chalk the whole thing up to an evening of flirting. I wanted to chalk it up to the mysterious effect of Las Vegas.

  I also wanted Audrey. I had for a long time—longer than was appropriate, probably. It would be stupid of me not to take her up on it, right? But what did that mean? Running through the possibilities in my head, I counted popcorn stucco dots on the ceiling of my hotel room like they were sheep.

  We would have to tell Brett, right? Did I need his permission? Or would it be better to ask for forgiveness, afterward?

  What were Audrey’s expectations? She said she wanted a casual fling, but what would happen when it was… flung? Things would be weird. Then again, Brett might never speak to me again for defiling his little sister, so maybe we wouldn’t cross paths much in the future.

  Wait, did she mean hooking up only while we were in Vegas? If so, what the fuck was I doing wasting time in my own bed? I lifted my arms, groaning, and punched the headboard behind me.

  * * *

  The next day Audrey evaded me as neatly as sleep had the night before.

  Granted, it was a big hotel, but she was nowhere to be found and every time I ran into one of the wedding party they told me she had just left. Strange, huh? It was almost like she knew I was looking for her… When, somehow, she managed to avoid the group dinner with Shannon’s parents, I went from mystified to irritated.

  She didn’t answer my knocks on her door. She didn’t respond to my calls on the room phone. She didn’t even answer my texts—even after I had to get her number from Brett without looking like a creeper.

  For a woman who wanted to get me into bed, she sure was playing hard to get. More like hard to find. Was a fling already flung if the woman ghosted you before you… flang? Argh. Women were trouble—confusing, intoxicating, nice-smelling trouble.

  They were also social media fiends. I discovered this the hard way when I realized that my movements were being tracked almost hourly on Facebook and Twitter. A few days in Sin City was putting me on display and on edge.

  I tried to live a relatively quiet, private life—away from the cameras. Normally the only thing that tracked me was my smart watch. There were a few followers I’d blocked in the past when I felt, uh, uncomfortably objectified. Okay, they were more like stalkers with vivid imaginations. When my agent PMed me an excited post on my fan page that came precariously close to outing my freaking Vegas room number, I was understandably unsettled.

  Needless to say, the next morning I was not feeling in the mood for a wedding. But at least I knew Audrey couldn’t avoid that. I would pin her down, one way or another.

  I had one method in mind, and it required privacy.

  Though Brett had given me the rings, he hadn’t been totally clear on whether Audrey or I was standing up with him at the altar. I was counting on her not knowing either, and I could ambush her in front of whatever Elvis slash Justice of the Peace was performing the ceremony.

  Thankfully, I didn’t need to. I found her in the garden area, surrounded by a seasonal display of flowers and a butt-load of tourists.

  “Audrey!”

  She spun toward me, her eyes wide and her stance unsteady. I loped toward her and whipped my arm around her before she could topple over.

  “This is becoming a habit,” I said, looking down at her shoes. Once again she was wearing heels that were probably too high for comfort. At least they made her legs look awesome. Plus, they put her at easy kissing height—a quality I took full advantage of.

  “Dev!” She pulled away from my lips and swatted at me.

  Her cheeks were as pink as the dress she wore, and I stepped back to admire them both. She straightened one, then tried to smooth down the other

  “You look beautiful,” I said.

  The simple blue silk dress matched her eyes. It skimmed over her body and stopped just above her knees, the wide neckline framing her collarbone like it was a work of art.

  Her chin dipped as she took in my bespoke, black designer suit and silvery gray shirt with the top few buttons undone.

  “You look—oh, what’s the point?” She threw her hands up
. “You know you look good.”

  I shrugged. It was hard to defeat the combination of genetics, grooming, and a grumpy Italian tailor.

  She laughed, relaxing a little as she teased me. “Pretty boy.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “I assure you, I’m all man.”

  Her giggle died, her lips parting into a shapely O. “I bet,” she said faintly.

  The hum of humanity around us rose and fell, like a mosquito dancing around our heads. When I looked around, I noticed more than one person holding their phones up to capture me instead of the garden. I tried to smile at them politely so they’d get a good shot and leave happy.

  A gaggle of middle-aged Chinese women pressed in on us, so we stepped aside to let them take pictures of the flowers.

  “I missed you yesterday.”

  Now it was her turn to shrug. Her dark hair curled on her shoulders, hiding all the best nooks and crannies of her neck. It begged to be swept aside like a curtain. I reached out to push a bit of her hair back.

  Wait.

  “Uh, did I do that?”

  Blushing furiously, she smoothed her hair back down, covering the little bruise a couple of inches below her earlobe. “Yes. You did.”

  Well, damn.

  “You don’t need to look so proud of yourself,” she huffed.

  “I’m not proud.” Okay, maybe a little.

  “You’re not?” I loved that she looked a little disappointed.

  When I leaned toward her, I could smell the fruity, spicy scents of the hotel’s shampoo in her hair. Any closer and I’d be able to kiss the silky strands.

  “Disappointed,” I lowered my voice, “that I didn’t get the chance to mark you in other places.”

  “Oh.”

  “Places that are normally covered up.”

  “Oh.”

  Her chest swelled under the smooth fabric of her dress, outlining what looked like a very lacy bra underneath. My body reacted, and I buttoned up my blazer.

  “I want to talk to you about your proposition,” I said.

  “Oh god, I’m so embarrassed. Can we just forget it?” She squeezed her eyes shut, like a toddler pretending I wasn’t there.

  I shook my head. “No, sorry. It was unforgettable. Literally.”

  Now her hands flew up to cover her face. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

  “No way.”

  Gently, I circled her wrists and pulled her hands away. In so many ways, Audrey was more vulnerable now than when she was a child. When she blinked at me guilelessly, I found myself wanting to protect her like Brett and I had done when we were younger.

  No, not quite like back then.

  “I want to remember it for the rest of my life,” I admitted.

  “What, like PTSD?”

  This girl. I grinned at her. “No, like the beginning of something amazing.”

  She tossed her head. “Well, someone has a high opinion of their abilities.”

  There was a lot of shrugging going on today. I took her hand in mine and waited.

  As she realized I was serious, the roses in her cheeks faded a little. “Really?”

  “Really. Really, really, really amazing.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking about my abilities or just the prospect of us.

  “So—”

  I interrupted her with a quick, soft kiss that made her sigh afterward. I couldn’t wait to hear all of her little sounds, taste her everywhere…

  “I’m in,” I assured her. “But we need to talk terms.”

  “Like what?”

  Like everything that had made the last two nights so restless. “Like when, how, where.” We could forget about the why for now.

  “Okay. What time is it?”

  I blinked. Now? I lifted my arm to check my ridiculously overpriced dress watch—a gift from a job. “Ten to eleven.”

  She gasped. “Oh my god, we’re going to be late!”

  Shit. The wedding.

  “Do you know where to go?” I asked her. I sure hoped so because I hadn’t scouted it out beforehand.

  She nodded frantically as she stepped around me. Her heels made a clicking sound on the stone tile as she wove and darted like a pro football player around tourists taking pictures. One of them looked like he wanted to club her with his selfie stick when she halted in her tracks and whirled back.

  “You have the rings, right?” she called out. There were still a dozen feet and a dozen people between us. “Brett said he gave them to you.”

  I shoved my hand in my pocket, feeling metal. “Yes!”

  Audrey turned away and started walking again. “Excuse me, pardon me, oops, excuse me,” I heard her mutter.

  “Excuse me,” someone in front of me said. I looked down to see a girl around my age with a friend and a phone. “You’re Dev Sharpe, right? Would you mind taking a picture with—”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m late for my friend’s wedding.”

  The way her face fell made me feel bad, but that was nothing to how I’d feel when Brett broke both my legs. My hand was still in my pocket as I edged by the fans, my eyes on Audrey’s hair swinging ahead of me.

  Fuck. I froze.

  Where was the other ring? I could only feel the smooth metal of Brett’s band, not the thick diamond eternity band he was giving Shannon.

  Don’t panic, don’t panic. Better to be late with both rings than show up with only one of them!

  “Dev!” I saw a flash of pink as she stopped and swung around. “Come on!”

  “Hang on!” I unbuttoned my jacket and checked my inside breast pocket. Nope.

  “What are you doing?” Audrey called out.

  Maybe now it was time to panic. My teeth ground together. Moisture prickled on my body. “I can’t find the—wait, I—motherfucker!”

  The ring, unsnagged from a thread in my fancy Italian pants—the other pocket, naturally—sailed through the air, bounced off someone’s purse, and landed on a travertine tile six feet away.

  I dove toward it, swearing again when my knee hit the stone. That was going to hurt later.

  My inky black suit was getting dirty as I scrabbled on my hands and knees to the ring, but I didn’t care. Hopefully, someone wouldn’t step on it—or me—before I got it.

  Above me I heard Audrey’s voice get louder. The crowd parted for her as she impatiently strode back to me.

  Finally, I snatched up the ring and breathed a sigh of relief. My heart was pounding, and I felt a little damp all over from the stress and the desert sun.

  I leaned back on my heels, inspecting it for damage. Behind the sparkling diamonds, fabulous legs appeared before me. Wincing a little at the scrape on my knee, I got one foot underneath me.

  Audrey gasped. “Is that—?”

  “Yeah.” Surely it would be safer tucked away in her bra or something. God knows I wouldn’t mind being tucked away in her bra or something.

  Balancing on one knee, I held the ring up.

  She reached out for it, sunlight bouncing off the stones and flashing around like a strobe light.

  As our fingers touched, I heard another gasp.

  And a squeal.

  “Oh my god, he’s proposing!”

  I looked around to see a dozen phones aimed at me.

  Uh oh.

  “Isn’t that—?”

  “Saw him on TV—”

  “Dev something?”

  Squee! “I follow him on Instagram. Such a hottie—”

  “I’m totally Tweeting this!”

  Audrey and I stared at each other in shock as I knelt before her, a diamond ring suspended between our fingers.

  Oh. Nooooo.

  6

  Audrey

  I turned sideways to slip between the throng of tourists in the garden, my irritation boiling over. Jesus, people, they’re just flowers!

  My heart and head were all over the place. It was lucky I didn’t trip as my brain continued processing information.

  Dev wanted a fling.
/>   He said I looked beautiful.

  We needed to get to the wedding.

  He had the rings.

  But he still wasn’t behind me.

  I stopped and spun around, calling out his name. “Come on!” My head bobbed one way then another. Where was he? All I saw was a flash of black behind the shifting crowd.

  This was not the time to stop and smell the damn roses. Gah! Protests bounced off me when I had to push my way back through the crowd to collect him.

  What the—?

  Dev was crawling on the ground toward me. I only realized why when he stopped and examined something in his hand.

  He didn’t. He dropped the rings?

  “Is that…?” I was too horrified—and relieved—to give him grief about it. We were already running late.

  “Yeah.” Dev sighed heavily and slipped the ring onto my index finger. I curled my fingers into my palm to keep it safe. That was when I saw the widening circle around us. There was noise—sounds of excitement and surprise.

  And phones.

  Lots of phones.

  Someone other than me said Dev’s name, and it dawned on me what was happening. It looked like he was asking me to marry him.

  Oh shit.

  Dev caught my gaze as I frowned. His eyes were wide with panic. Fair enough. I wasn’t the marrying type—according to Darren, anyhow. There was a twinge of pain and embarrassment in my chest at how ridiculous this all was.

  But the whispering gawkers around us weren’t really that dumb, were they? I mean, look at us. Why would someone who looks like that want to marry me?

  Marry. Wedding. Brett and Shannon.

  I blinked and grabbed Dev’s hand to pull him up. “We have to go. Now!”

  There was another shock-wave that went through the crowd when I yanked him to his feet.

  “Did she say yes?”

  “What happened?”

  “Ooooh, burn!”

  By now my face was almost as pink as my dress. Dev threw me a sheepish grin as he brushed off his slacks. His gaze dropped down.

  “Are you going to be able to run in those things?”