“What’s wrong? Did you just get played by your own game, mate? Is that what I saw just happen? You try to make us a couple so I’d get booted and then—oopsie—it cemented the deal even further?” I shrug innocently in contradiction to the sarcasm lacing my voice. I love that with every second that passes, I can see the frustration grow in his expression: the narrow of his brows, the tic of the muscle in his jaw, the tension in his lips.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” He looks over his shoulder to make sure our conversation can’t be heard and moves us again so we’re under the cover of the night’s shadows.
“Yeah, I was saving your ass.” I snort. It’s not ladylike. It doesn’t go with the expensive dress I have on. But I couldn’t care less.
“My ass?” His chuckle could freeze water it’s so derisive. “I can handle my ass perfectly fine, thank you.”
“Actually you can’t,” I say as I step into him. “Which you would know if you’d heard Robert confess that he doesn’t trust you’re committed to this project. He was concerned about your motivation and your overall belief in this company as more than just a monetary venture.”
The look on his face tells me he believes it and had similar doubts. “The last thing I need is for you to interfere in my business dealings.” There goes that mask of arrogance again. It slides over his face like a shield of armor, one that hides every play of emotion from being seen.
“Why’s that? Are you afraid that maybe Robert overheard you trying to make a decision about which woman here could be your pretend girlfriend so you could pull one over on him?” My voice is saccharine sweet while my eyes level him with a glare. “I mean . . . what a friggin nightmare.”
I got his attention with that. His gorgeous green eyes pop up to meet mine and his fingers tense on the glass in his hand. “Harlow—”
I cock my head to the side. “So the way I see it, you owe me.”
His smile is cold at best. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Nah, more just managing the controlled burn you started.” I know I’m being childish but it feels so good to see Zane’s mouth grow lax, not a single smooth word falling from his lips. “I’m also saving you from making a huge mistake and screwing Simone, driving away your spokesperson and getting caught by Robert.”
“I’m a grown man, I can sleep with whomever I want to.”
My laugh is full and throaty and mocking. “Not when you’ve found the love of your life, you can’t. What would poor Robert think if he found out you were sleeping with someone else while supposedly dating me? I don’t think that would go over too well.” I shake my head slowly, enjoying seeing him squirm. “Don’t you hate that your own plan backfired. That you tried to get me off—”
“If I tried to get you off, I’d be more than successful—and you’d be in a much better mood.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“That’s what I’m known for, sweetheart.”
We wage a visual war, both of us glaring at one another as we try to navigate our newfound situation.
“It’s a simple fix,” he says, voice low, body on the defensive. “Tell Robert you can no longer do it. Your mom is sick. Your dog died. You got a bigger job elsewhere. Whatever.”
“So what? You can give the job to Simone?” I look over his shoulder to the people beyond and find the woman I’d heard bragging earlier. She’s stunningly gorgeous in every way imaginable—hair, body, lips, style. “Isn’t she the one who was telling everyone about all the work she has and how she can barely fit this on her schedule if she were to get the job? That Simone? She’ll live, Zane. And I’ll save her the heartache of getting played and thinking there is actually something between you two.”
“You’re a real piece of—”
“Careful what you say about your girlfriend, Zane.” He grits his teeth and I roll my eyes. “Oh please—”
“Will you shut up?” he growls.
“No. It’s one photo shoot. Big deal. It’s the least you can do—”
Before I can finish the words, Zane’s lips are on mine. He’s heat and fire and sparks of anger are on his tongue. They stun me momentarily as I try to hold my ground . . . but hell, the man can kiss.
I’m stuck in that suspended state of wanting to take a stand and push him off of me, all the while wanting to kiss him back and take what he’s offering.
And just when I make the decision—just when his free hand slides up the bare plane of my back and the heat of his body seeps through my dress in the front, he shocks me by pulling apart from me.
It takes me a second to catch my breath. To find my bearings. To remember my thoughts.
“Robert was watching,” he murmurs as his eyes bore into mine. As unaffected as his words sound, his body, his lips, his fingers moving as if they’re itching to touch all say something completely different. “Just keeping up pretexts.”