Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales) (4 page)

“Benjamin…if we do this, it has to be a business arrangement. It has to be clear-cut and easy. Pretend.” Despite her words, she tipped her face up to his. “If we don’t keep everything fake —it’ll blow up in our faces. Trust me.”

If we do this
. That was all he heard out of that whole speech, because that meant she was considering it. He tasted victory, and it was as sweet as she was. “Deal. But we need to be comfortable with one another, too. To sell the whole ‘in love’ thing.”

She nodded. “R-Right.”

“So little kisses like this…” He brushed his lips against hers again and slid his hand down the curve of her hip, tracing the side of that hot little ass he’d done his best to ignore for the past six months. He moved closer, letting her feel exactly how much he wanted her—because there was no hiding
that
from her. “They have to come as easy to us as breathing.”

She grasped his shoulders. “Mr.
Gale
.”

“Maggie.” He skimmed his hand around her waist, dipping down to tease the waistband of her skirt. He wanted to feel the soft skin there, to stroke it, but she had her shirt tucked in, and he couldn’t cross that line. “You have to call me Benjamin.”

“
Benjamin
.”

“There you go.” He chuckled and ran the back of his knuckles over her cheek. “That’s not so hard, is it?”

Her gaze flitted down. “I don’t know. Is it?”

A laugh escaped him. An actual
laugh
.

He’d spent years with his sights set on one goal only: to succeed as CEO. He’d been living, yes, but with her in his arms, he felt alive for the first time since his father’s death. “I’ll be honest, I’ve thought of doing this before. Touching you. And now here we are.”

“Yeah.” She nodded her head imperceptibly. “Here we are.”

“What do you think?” He splayed his hand across her lower back, his pinky on the sweet curve of her ass, and the pulse at the base of her throat leaped. He pressed a soft kiss there, relishing her reaction to him. “Can we make this thing between us work?”

“If we’re being honest, I definitely feel the attraction, too. That’s why if we get caught up in the lie, it would be catastrophic.”

Would
. Not
could
.

Something told him Maggie had been hurt pretty badly before. That’s what made her cautious about love, while he simply didn’t understand the point of such a vulnerable emotion. It only led to pain. “But it could be really good, too.”

She pulled him closer, her words at war with her actions. “If we do this, we shouldn’t be doing”—she motioned between them—“this.”

Despite her words, she didn’t let go of him. If anything, she held him tighter.

“I’m fine with that, if that’s what you want. I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You can walk out of here, tell me to go to hell, and I’ll still fight for your job till I can’t fight anymore.” He let go of her, even though every muscle protested the loss. “Do you want to leave?”

She bit her lip, staring up at him, still holding him tight. “No.”

“All right.” His pulse surged. “So, back on topic, if we’re going to do this, we’ll have to kiss fairly often, to make it real. We’ll have to be comfortable enough with one another…” He slid his hands back into place and dropped a kiss on her lips again, pulling back right away. “To do things like this without hesitation.”

She lifted her face to his, a small breath puffing out, and her lids dropped down. She looked so damn kissable and fit into his arms like a missing piece of himself. “All the time. Try it again.”

He kissed her again, his lips lingering over hers. “Like that?”

“Mm hmm.” Her eyes opened, and she took a deep breath. “This is all a horrible idea.”

He stepped back and cocked a brow. “Do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

“But
I’ll do it.” Her lips quirked. “You’re right—we are a good team. If anyone can make this look real, it’s us.”

Feelings he hadn’t let himself experience in years hit him. Gratitude, satisfaction, victory, and excitement—they were all there. The urge to pick her up and swing her in a circle was a tangible thing, but he didn’t move. The man he used to be? He’d have done it. But the man he’d become wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

“Thank you, Maggie.” He held his hand out for her to shake, even though he would rather kiss her. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”

She shivered and slid her hand into his, her gaze dipping to his mouth as she stepped closer. “Let’s kiss on it. Make it official. That way we get more practice, and we get more comfortable—”

“You don’t have to sell me on the idea.” He hauled her into his arms and dropped a kiss perilously close to her lips. She gasped and rested her hands on his chest. “You want me to kiss you? I’ll damn well kiss you.”

He nibbled on her ear gently this time.

“G-Good. But we need to lay out rules, and times where I have to be seen with you, and—” He bit her ear a little harder, then sucked on it to ease the sting. She even tasted sweet there. Like cotton candy, but more addictive. And he fucking loved that fluffy, sugary shit. “
Benjamin
.”

Releasing the lobe he’d bitten, he kissed the side of her neck again, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there. He was coming on strong, but she kept making sexy little sounds every time he touched her, and he couldn’t help it. “Was that too much?”

Her resistance faded with each brush of his lips on her soft skin, and the undisputable attraction between them was drawn so tightly it should snap. “Um, maybe…”

“I’m sorry.” He brushed his lips across hers again, ever so slightly, lingering this time. “Just practicing.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She moaned and grabbed hold of him, swaying closer. “Practice.”

Another almost-kiss had frustration boiling inside him because she hadn’t showed nearly as much desire for him as he had for her. He didn’t like wanting someone so strongly in the first place, but he’d be damned if it was one-sided. “Maggie—”

“Enough.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged hard, finally seeming to break. “
Kiss me
.”

I thought you’d never ask.

He closed the tiny distance between them, their lips melding together on one jointly exhaled breath. She melted against him instantly, her soft body curving perfectly into his. She fit against him as if she was made for him alone, and he had the sinking suspicion that she was. And that
terrified
him. He swallowed the impending sense of doom creeping up his spine, hauled her even closer, and deepened the kiss.

Again, she opened for him, and he kissed her like a starving man. Never had he had something as sweet, or addictive, as Maggie Donovan. Pretending to love her would be a pleasure if it meant he got to kiss her. Hold her. Touch her.

Make her scream out his name.

Backing her against the wall, he gave her a second to push him away. When she didn’t, he explored her body fully. She was all softness and curves, easily the most perfect combination of hotness he’d ever had in his arms. Instead of the toned, almost boyish frame of most of the women he’d dated, she was all curves, swells, and lean legs.

All
woman
.

Closing his palms over her large breasts, he ran his thumbs over her hard, perky nipples, cursing the clothing that stood in his way. At the slight pressure, she gasped and pressed against him wantonly. Her pencil skirt was in the way so he lifted it, inch by inch, so he could press his knee against her core. She gasped and dug her nails into his forearms, rotating her hips in a circle.

Her hands drifted up his arms, clinging to his biceps. A small, breathy moan escaped her. He swallowed her sounds of pleasure and increased the pressure of his knee, gaining a small cry from her lips. Her entire body tensed, and she moved against him, almost pushing away, but then pulling him closer instead. She rode his leg with a wildness he’d never seen before.

It made him even hotter to have her,
naked
, in his bed.

To make her his for real.

She rubbed herself against him frantically, her tongue swirling over his, and
bam
. She came, her whole body freezing as a tiny little whimper escaped, long and drawn out until it ended in a sigh. He could have kept going. Could have bent her over, and fucked her until she’d forgotten all about ever wanting to keep their relationship professional. But that wouldn’t be fair. So, despite every single muscle in his body screaming for him to finish what he’d started, he let go of her and backed off.

Gave her room to breathe.

“Holy crap.” She collapsed against the wall. “I never…I mean… Oh my God.”

Smoothing her hair off her face and away from her swollen lips, he locked eyes with her. He shifted his position, trying to ease the throbbing insistence of his aching cock. She might have gotten more than a kiss, but he hadn’t, and his body was all too aware of that fact. “Maggie…”

She licked her lips and shrugged off his hold, and he watched the wet path her tongue left behind, unable to glance away. “I need…I need a minute.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Pushing away from the wall, and her, he forced his expression into a cool, calm, collected mask. He had a hell of a lot of practice at doing so, but still it was harder than normal, which probably wasn’t a good sign of things to come. “We should discuss rules and plans.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear with a shaking hand and walked toward the door on trembling legs. She stumbled and he reached out to steady her, but she caught herself on the edge of his desk. “Yes, we should, but not now. I-I need to go.”

“Okay.” So he kissed her, and she bolted. His earlier suspicions had been confirmed—she was a runner. He’d scared her. Shaken her. Well, she’d shaken him, too. So they were even. “Meet me for dinner tomorrow? So we can discuss everything in detail?”

She froze in the doorway. “Where?”

“Macaluso’s. Eight.”

She hesitated, but nodded. “See you there.”

He watched her leave, an emptiness taking hold of the pit of his stomach as she walked away from him, but it wasn’t strong enough to dispel the satisfaction of having a plan in place. One that would secure his position, once and for all—while giving him an excuse to kiss Maggie.

As soon as the door shut behind her, he went into his private bathroom, locked the door, and undid his pants. Gripping the counter with his left hand, he closed out the world, a small smile slipping into place as he slid his right hand inside his pants, squeezing his erection. She was honest, fresh, sweet, and even better? Naughty as hell underneath those knee length pencil skirts and soft silk blouses.

He moved his hand faster, grunting as the pleasure made his balls tighten and pull up close to his body. The more frantically his hand moved, the more he pictured Maggie’s face as she came, and how she’d ridden his leg—until, letting out a long groan, he came, hard and fast. It wasn’t enough.

It wouldn’t be until he had Maggie in his arms again.

Chapter Four

T
he next night, Maggie couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a big mistake when she’d agreed to be her boss’s fake fiancée. This whole thing was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad idea. Ever since she’d agreed to pretend to be Mr. Gale’s fiancée, nothing had gone her way.

From the moment she’d woken up that morning to her eventful trip to the restaurant to meet Mr. Gale, it had been a day from
hell
. While she wasn’t exactly the superstitious type who read tea leaves or life lines on her palm, she couldn’t help but think it was an omen of things to come.

And it might be best to listen.

Even so. Here she was.

Being an idiot, yet again, over Benjamin Gale III.

She’d spent the day getting “made over” by her roommate and best friend, Becca, and the result had been quite stunning…even if she’d been burned by the curling iron three times to achieve it. She wore a light gold dress that looked as if it belonged in a ballroom instead of some fancy restaurant, and her heels were sky high. High enough to hurt her ankles and make her wobble unsteadily every now and then, but the pain was totally worth it. Her hair had been swept into a loose side braid, and she couldn’t help but feel like a princess.

She pulled out her phone.
I’m almost there. Wish me luck.

You don’t need it.
Becca replied quickly.

Maggie looked out the window. They were almost there.
Are you going out?

Nope. I have a hot date with Netflix and a bottle of wine.

Wish I did, too.
Maggie blew out a breath.

Becca didn’t reply back.

The cab she’d hired stopped outside a fancy restaurant that she’d never have set foot in on her own. A plate here cost the equivalent of a month’s worth of groceries for her. Luckily, she wouldn’t be paying. Her freaking rich
fiancé
would.

A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat, choking her.

“Oh, God,” she said out loud. “What were you
thinking
?”

She’d lied, and she’d have to deal with the consequences. Next time she wanted to swoop in and help someone out…she’d keep her stupid mouth shut.

No matter how hot the guy was.

Or how great a kisser.

Her stomach tightened when she remembered the way he’d made her combust in his office. She’d never,
ever
, come so hard, so fast, before. The way he touched her had made her whole body come to life, begging for more. It was all she’d been able to think about. But whatever. She’d be fine.

It wasn’t as if she needed another taste. Or even wanted one.

God, even
she
snorted at that bold lie.

Yesterday, after his knee brought her to heights she’d never seen, she’d been a quivering mess. Benjamin had stepped back, watching her with cool detachment. That had been the worst part about that mind-numbing kiss. Sure, he’d said all those things about them being a good team, and working together was a pleasure,
blah blah blah
, but his tone had been cool. Aloof. Uninterested.

Completely unreadable.

Just like him.

After taking a long, deep breath, she paid the cabbie and opened the door. She’d go in there, they would plot their strategy just like they did in a normal business meeting, and she would treat it like any other day in the office. That was the secret. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. As soon as she—

She stepped out and landed her best pair of heels in a big, dirty puddle of questionable origins. “Oh,
come on
.”

The cabbie turned in his seat. “There a problem?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

As she climbed from the cab, she smacked her head on the top of the car. This time she didn’t even bother to cry out, because she wasn’t even in the least bit surprised. It was just the way the day had been going. And would continue to go, from all appearances. She shut the cab door, and it pulled away…

Two seconds after she realized she’d left her purse in the backseat.

“Wait!” she screamed, raising her arm and chasing after him.

He stopped, and she managed to retrieve her purse in the nick of time. Hugging it to her chest, she closed her eyes and took a second.

Because, God, she
needed
a second.

“Come on, Maggie. You can do this. You’re not cursed, and it’s not an omen. Go in there, and it’ll be fine. It’s just another job.”

“You weren’t kidding, were you?” a slightly amused voice asked. “You really do like talking to yourself.”

She shook her head and wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow her, since that freaking meteorite had been a no-show last night. It would be better than whatever was coming next. “Sir?”

“Benjamin. You have to call me
Benjamin
.” He walked up to her, and his woodsy, male scent washed over her. She breathed it in like it had healing properties. “Look at me, Maggie.”

She did.

But she immediately wished she hadn’t.

His blue eyes were locked on her, and his five o’clock shadow begged to be touched. His wavy hair curled to perfection next to sharp cheekbones that belonged on a statue of a Greek god, not a mere man. And his eyes…they were cold. Rock hard. “Everything will be fine. We’re a good team, remember?”

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “I know.”

“I’m glad.” Funny, he didn’t
look
glad. “In this relationship, you’re the boss, not me. It’s only fair, since I’m the boss in the office. What you want, you get. What you don’t want, you don’t get. I want you to be one hundred percent happy. I don’t want you to feel trapped, or taken advantage of. Not with me.”

She just stared at him.

He kept saying nice things, but never seemed to actually care.

And she didn’t think that was an
act
. Did he feel
anything
around her? Okay, he felt
something
, because she’d gotten up close and personal with his impressive erection last night, but how could he just shut it off like that? How did he remain so cold, all the time?

When she remained silent, he cleared his throat. “You look gorgeous, by the way. Simply stunning.” Her stomach hollowed out, because the coldness in his eyes gave way to a heat that burned through her dress, leaving her bare. Even though he was only looking, it was if he’d touched her.
Everywhere.
“You’re a true beauty. The kind that no amount of makeup will ever recreate.”

Her whole body flushed. Yep. Everywhere. “I feel like Belle from
Beauty and the Beast
.”

“How fitting.” He cocked his brow. “I guess that makes me the Beast?”

“If the shoe fits…”

He skimmed his gaze over her again, almost possessively. Didn’t he
know
how much that made her tremble? He rested his hand across her lower back, dangerously close to touching her butt, and she pressed her thighs together. “Oh, it fits.”

Just three little words. Nothing racy or scandalous. Even so, it made her want to throw herself into his arms and beg him to take her again.
God, he was good
.

“Benjamin.” If he showed the slightest sign of burning desire for her right now, she had no doubt she’d be combusting on Forty-fourth Street. And that wouldn’t work. “Another rule: You should save the intimate touching for when people are watching.”

“There are tons of people outside,” he deadpanned, running his thumb over her lower lip. “Doesn’t that count?”

Yes. It totally does. Kiss me again.
“No.”

“All right.” He stepped back and let go of her, like she’d asked. “Like I said, you’re the boss. If you want me to keep my hands to myself, I will.”

She didn’t
want
him to. She
needed
him to.

She had a feeling if he didn’t, she’d forget all about this being pretend. She’d fall for him, and he’d hurt her, just like all the other men in her life had. She’d end up quitting her job anyway, and this pretense would have been for nothing. “I do.”

“All right.” He inclined his head and offered her his arm, hardly looking brokenhearted over her rejection. “Ready to go inside? Or do you need to continue your little pep talk to yourself first?”

“I’m good, thank you,” she managed to say with her head held high. Her cheeks, though, were on fire. “I’d just finished when you came up to me.”

She slid her hand into the crook of his arm, and he hugged it close to his hard side. Just that slight contact made her legs shake. The man was made of pure, lean muscle. When did he have time to work out? He spent all day and most of the nights in his office. “I find it charming, you know. The way you talk to yourself.”

Oh, she doubted that. Especially since he’d said those words without a hint of a smile. But she’d humor him anyway. “Thanks.”

They walked inside Macaluso’s, and as soon as he set foot on the threshold, it was as if the restaurant
knew
it. Waiters bowed and scooted out of the way, greeting him by name, and he led them to a small, private room in the back left corner of the dining room without any help. It was ensconced within dark red curtains, and there were at least ten candles flickering on random tables…

That were all empty of place settings except one.

He led her to that table, pulled her chair out for her, and waited. “Maggie?”

“Uh—” She blinked. “Is this whole room for us?”

“Yes.” His brow wrinkled, and he looked confused, as if he didn’t realize that most men didn’t do that. How…How…
ridiculous
. “I don’t want anyone overhearing our conversation. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to have spies following us, to see if we’re the real thing or not.”

“Oh. Right.” That, at least, sort of made sense. She sat down, and he pushed her chair in close. “Thanks. After the day I’ve had, I can’t wait to get an appletini. Or five.”

Anything to make her forget all about
this
.

And that sexy kiss last night.

He sat across from her and picked up a dark, expensive looking bottle of wine she’d somehow missed sitting in an ice bath. “No need to wait for a drink. I pre-ordered our wine to go with our meal. This is their best bottle of white.”

I hate white.
She smiled anyway because booze was booze, and at this point, she’d take it. She’d drink muddy water if it dulled the panic rising inside her with each word he said. Now that they were out, alone, the enormity of what she’d agreed to hit her. This was her
boss,
and she was on a
date
with him because she was pretending to be his lover.
How had this happened?
“Uh…thanks. Sure.”

“Oh.” He brandished a bouquet of red roses from under the table like some sort of hot, designer-suit-wearing magician. “Also, some flowers for you.”

He said that with no emotion whatsoever, as if he could do this in his sleep. She had the impression he
was
, right now. “Thanks.” She lifted the tablecloth and glanced underneath. “What else do you have under there? A waiter? A string quartet with a violin?”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. Heaven forbid he show some small sign of amusement. “No, they’ll come in later.”

“Seriously?”

A slight tip of his head. “No.”

“Thank God,” she breathed.

This whole “date” thing was so cliché. And more than likely? It worked every freaking time. This was obviously his play when he took women out, and he had all the right moves to make a normal girl swoon and fall into his arms. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t a normal girl, and she knew a well-honed player move when she saw one.

It wouldn’t work on her.

She’d learned her lesson the hard way. Not that it mattered, of course. He didn’t
have
to woo her. She was already his fiancée.

Laughing lightly at that, she took the flowers and set them on the empty table next to them without smelling them. She was well aware what roses smelled like, and they made her sneeze. She preferred snowbells. “Pretty flowers. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She smiled, not saying anything else.

His forehead scrunched, and he scratched his head.

He seemed confused, and she almost felt sorry for him. He obviously couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t swooning at his feet. But the risk outweighed the reward, and she couldn’t afford to be an idiot over her boss’s dreamy eyes. Her job was too important. Her parents counted on her to help them, and her rent had to be paid, and poor Lucifer needed that vet appointment.

So he could turn those sexy eyes elsewhere.

He poured a full glass of wine, and held it out to her. Their fingers brushed on the hand off, and the skin on skin contact sent her pulse soaring and her mind racing back to that kiss for the millionth time. Seemingly unaware of her reaction to him, he settled in to pour his own glass. Before he’d even finished, she’d taken a big gulp. It tasted awful.

It might be their best bottle of white, but it still tasted like butt.

She must have made a face, because he sighed and set the bottle down. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tinged with slight annoyance.

“Nothing.” She folded her hands in her lap and smiled, trying to ignore all the unsettled feelings swirling in the pit of her stomach. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re acting strange.”

Did that mean she wasn’t acting like the million other women he’d practiced his way too smooth moves on? “Lucky for you, this date is all for show, and you don’t need to worry about what I’m thinking.”

He downed some of his wine and tugged on his tie. The waiter came in carrying salads—wait, they hadn’t even
ordered anything
—and set them in front of them. She took the opportunity to check him out since he was talking to the waiter.

He, of course, was as devilishly hot as always.

Benjamin—not the waiter.

He wore a black suit, a light blue shirt, and a gray-and-blue striped tie. He seemed to like stripes—probably because they were even and never out of place. His jacket hugged his body perfectly, since it had clearly been custom made for him. Guys like him didn’t buy off the rack. That would never change. He came across as every inch the gentleman accustomed to such a lavish lifestyle…