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Authors: Diane Albert

BOOK: Faking It
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He watched her—the way she moved, the way the dim light of the restaurant added golden undertones to her skin. She didn’t belong in that pretty little suit dress, no matter how lovely it looked on her. She belonged in something softer. Sweeter. Something he could touch.

If he touched her, Aaron would likely take his hands off at the wrists. Women like her usually wanted more of an emotional commitment than he was able to give, anyway. He was here for work. His
life
was about work. Work made him happy. People, generally, did not. Best to put the thought out of his head. He wasn’t made for relationships. Wasn’t made for the long term. He didn’t have Aaron’s calm way of simply being with people, and he doubted he’d ever acquire it.

But he leaned over and retrieved his umbrella from his laptop bag, offering it to her without a word. When she closed her fingers around it, their hands brushed with a quick spark of electrical charge. She stilled, looking at him with puzzled eyes.

“What is this for?”

“It’s still raining. You won’t impress your investor if you show up wet.” Even if she’d impressed him, with the thin linen of her blouse clinging to her so lushly. “You can give it back to me tonight.”

“Tonight?” she asked.

His every instinct told him to deflect. To avoid this, out of self-preservation if for no other reason. But she was watching him, waiting. Wondering. And he found himself wanting, and self-preservation be damned.

“Tonight,” he repeated. “When I pick you up for dinner.”

She frowned. “I might already have plans for tonight, Mr. Rory.”

Before he could respond, she turned and walked away. Aaron leaned back in his seat with a pleased smile.

“She hates you,” he said.

“I’m aware,” Derek replied drily, but he didn’t think
hate
was quite the right word for it.
Fear
seemed more appropriate. A fear he thought he understood—and maybe she was right. He’d only known her an hour and already knew just how fundamentally different they were. Star-crossed stories about opposites attracting only worked in the movies. In real life it ended in disaster, tears, betrayal, abandonment. Her whimsical little temper would drive him crazy. His silence and inability to express his emotions would first hurt, then anger her, until finally she hated him for it. He was over-thinking this, anyway. Over-analyzing what was nothing more than a passing attraction.

“Derek?” Aaron said, and he snapped from his trance.

“Hm?”

“What are you smiling at?”

Derek turned his head to watch Stephanie through the restaurant’s front windows. She snapped his umbrella open and lifted it, but then paused and glanced back, her gaze searching until she caught his eye.

“Nothing,” he said, as she blushed and hurried away. “Nothing at all.”

Chapter Three

She’d left her purse.

She’d left her purse, and with it her proposal. And the thumb drive with the presentation slides and the digital copies of the proposal files. And her phone, so she couldn’t even call Aaron and ask him to bring it by.

She was screwed.

Stephanie dropped her forehead to the desk and left it there. She didn’t even bother checking her work computer for file backups. She’d done all her prep on her home laptop last night, and Rodgers had whisked her into his office the moment she’d arrived—not even a minute to copy her files, and after the meeting she’d been so giddy she hadn’t even thought about it. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Maybe she had time. If she ran, or even splurged on a cab, she could make it to Friday’s and back before she had to meet Wheeler. A twenty dollar cab ride was worth getting to keep her job, and she couldn’t afford to screw this up the way she screwed everything up. Karma was not getting its pound of flesh from her today.

“Missing something?” a cool voice murmured.

Derek.

She lifted her head, her eyes wide. He stood outside her cubicle, his black hair damp and shining like liquid midnight, her rain-spattered folder in one tanned hand. Her purse dropped onto her desk with a heavy
thud.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh my God, you brought it?”

She snagged the folder, and flipped through it. It was all there. She hugged it to her chest and smiled up at him. “You just saved my life. I could kiss you.”

His blue eyes glinted. “Hardly appropriate for the office.”

She did it anyway.

One day acting on impulse was going to get her in trouble. Possibly today. She had to curl her hands against him to even reach, bracing herself against his broad, hard shoulders and stretching up on her toes to kiss his cheek. When her lips brushed his skin and the touch of barely-there stubble teased her, a hot pang shot through her. She ignored it. He was a stuffy jerk, and her brother’s friend.

If only he didn’t smell so good.

She retreated quickly and tried a smile. “Thank you again. This is the second time you’ve saved me.”

“Don’t mention it.” His arm lifted slowly, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to move. Looking down into her eyes, he trailed a finger down her cheek, then quickly dropped his hand back to his side. “It’s my pleasure. And Aaron threatened me. Something about Guantanamo Bay.”

“That’s one of his favorites,” she said dryly, nudging him with her shoulder. “But anyway, thank you. I’ll walk you out.”

He fell into step beside her. “All ready for your big meeting?”

She let out a breath. “No, not really. But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Much more ready now that my file is back. I can’t believe I forgot it.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll have time, now, to include that funding allocation breakdo—”

The door next to them opened, and Mr. Rodgers poked his head out. “Ah, Ms. Miller. Are you ready?”

Stephanie looked at the clock. She still had thirty minutes. “Um, yeah.” She cringed and swiped her hands on her skirt. Way to sound professional. “I mean…yes, sir. I’m ready. I’ll grab my files and meet you in there.”

Rodgers frowned at Derek. “Do I know you?”

Derek shook his head. “I don’t believe so. If you’ll excuse me…” He angled past her at the same time as she stepped back.

They collided, and he tipped backward. One of her heels buckled beneath her. She was a split second away from landing on her butt in front of her boss when Derek swept her into his arms. His face was a mere inch from hers, and he looked down at her with something in his eyes she couldn’t quite figure out, his mouth frozen in a tight line. His hands lingered, but then he set her back on her feet and stepped back.

He stepped aside to let her pass. “After you.”

“Thank you. Again.”

Before she could take a step, another man emerged from the office. He looked like the little man from the Monopoly games, complete with his dapper blue suit, bald head, and flushed cheeks. All he needed was the top hat. “Is this Ms. Miller?”

Stephanie could have crawled under a rock and died. Of course the investor was ready
now
and looking for her to start the meeting. And of course she, like an idiot, had left the file on her desk.

Nothing to be done for it now. Time to put on her game face. Turning, she offered her hand and a bright smile. “Mr. Wheeler, I presume?”

“Indeed.”

They shook hands, and her gaze fell on Derek, who was currently trying to get past Mr. Rodgers—and failing. The man wouldn’t move out of his way, and his considerable girth clogged the narrow hallway. He stared at Derek with his calculating sneer. God, she hated that sneer.

She forced her attention back on Wheeler, but something told her she wouldn’t like what Rodgers was thinking. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Mr. Wheeler looked from Derek to her, and a smile lit his face. “And who might this be?”

“Uh. He’s just my—”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Ms. Miller.” Mr. Rodgers cleared his throat and stepped in front of her. He rested a hand on her shoulder—squeezing hard enough to convey his message.
Shut the hell up
. “What she means to say is, this is her fiancé.”

Stephanie’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “My what?”

“There’s no need to be shy. Mr. Wheeler’s a strong advocate of family values—aren’t you, sir?”

And that was when it clicked. Rodgers saw an opportunity, and that lying, scheming little—

With a slick smile, Rodgers turned to Derek. Derek’s face was frozen, his jaw set in an inflexibly hard line. He looked at Rodgers as if the man was some vile insect, but Rodgers barely seemed to notice, pasting on an ingratiatingly slick smile. “I’m sorry, son, but I can never remember your name…?”

Derek opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked at Stephanie for a long moment before his lips thinned into a taut, tense smile. “…Derek. Derek Rory. Stephanie’s…fiancé.”

“No,” Stephanie said. She wasn’t lying. “He’s not—”

“Supposed to be here?” Derek finished smoothly, and slid an arm around her shoulder. “I know. I’ll get out of your way.”

Stephanie shook her head. This was going to hell in a hand basket, and he was playing along? “But I’m not—?”

Mr. Rodgers stepped closer to her. The scent of his over-used cologne made her want to gag. She stepped closer to Derek, and his arm tightened on her. “It’s all right, Ms. Miller. I’m sure Mr. Wheeler doesn’t mind that your fiancé came by to wish you luck today, do you?”

It all sounded like some kind of scripted stage play, forced and awkward, but Wheeler seemed to be eating it up. “On the contrary, I love it,” he said. “It’s a nice change of pace to see a company so open to visitors. Too many companies nowadays forget that when an employee has a healthy home life, they have a happy work life.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mr. Rodgers said. Stephanie blinked. He’d been divorced six times and never saw his kids if he could help it. “Family is everything. We at Inner State are all big on family. I’m sure Derek could attest to that, right?”

Derek straightened and pulled her closer to his side. “Yes, of course. Stephanie and I try to keep our work and home lives in harmony. She’s even been invited to my company’s annual retreat.”

“W-what?”

Stephanie blinked up at him, and then looked down at his hand clasping her forearm. What the hell was going on here? Had someone sent an office memo around, and she was the only one not in on the joke?

“Excellent.” Mr. Wheeler turned away with an impish look belonging to a man half his age. “I’ll give you two a moment of privacy.”

While Wheeler ducked into the conference room, Rodgers leaned closer and hissed in her ear. “This is the angle you need. Wheeler practically lives on family values, and he’s known for siding with companies that speak his language. Play along.”

“But—”

“No buts. This is how the big dogs play. You say what you have to, to win. If you want this account, this jackass is your fiancé. Got it?”

Stephanie stumbled back, taken off guard by the vehemence in his voice. Derek’s grip on her arm tightened, holding her upright. His eyes narrowed on Mr. Rodgers for a brief second, but then he looked calm and in control again. Like always.

“I’ll be going now,” he said stiffly. “It was nice seeing you again.”

He looked at her boss, then walked away, his arm still wrapped around Stephanie. As they made their way to the elevator, his arm never left her shoulder. She looked up at him, her heart racing so fast she was sure everyone in the office could hear it.

“What are you doing? Why are you pretending to be my fiancé?”

He looked down at her, his mouth pressed tight. “He didn’t give you much choice. Expose the lie, lose your job.”

“I don’t—I can’t—”

“You can, if you must.” He pushed the down button on the elevator and finally dropped his arm from her shoulder. Looking over her shoulder, he tensed. “They’re watching. Especially the investor.” When she started to turn around, he seized her chin. “Don’t look, or they’ll know we’re talking about them.”

She closed her eyes for a second, then looked up into Derek’s eyes. A dark curl fell over his forehead, and she itched to push it back into place for him. “What am I supposed to do now? He thinks we’re engaged.”

“Don’t read too much into this.”

His grip on her shifted. Instead of holding her still, he caressed her jaw. His other hand fell to her hip, tugging her closer. She didn’t know whether to slap him or lean in closer. “What are you talking ab—?”

His lips closed over hers, and he stole her breath away.

It was a sweet kiss. A mere touching of lips, really. Yet she clung to him, completely overwhelmed by something so very simple. She sighed into his mouth, leaning on him. Wanting more. Needing more.

He pulled back from her, looking down into her eyes with a slight smile. “That’s what I meant. Part of the show.”

For show. Right. He had kissed her for show.

Don’t read too much into this.

But it was hard to listen when she was quaking from her lips to her toes.

“Wow.” She lifted her hand and touched her mouth, then ran her fingers over his lower lip. He was smiling. Actually smiling. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you really smile without looking like it hurts. I like it.”

The smile drifted away and his face closed off. He captured her hand, pulled it away from his face, and dropped a kiss to her knuckles. “Farewell, my fiancée.”

The doors opened, and he stepped into the elevator without another glance back. As the doors closed, he turned and met her eyes for a brief second before he was gone. And the brief glimpse she had of him—his eyes hard, his face deliberately blank—told her everything she needed to know.

No matter how that kiss had shaken her, she couldn’t let this get too personal.

She turned and forced a smile for her boss. The two men were watching her and speaking quietly. She fisted her hands and approached them, fighting the urge to slap her boss across his sneering face. Hard. Instead, she smiled through clenched teeth. “I’ll go grab my file, and meet you gentlemen in a moment.”

They nodded and went into the conference room, and she hurried to her desk. It would serve her right if the presentation bombed. She was
lying
to Wheeler, and she wasn’t wholly sure the ends justified the means.

But it went off without a hitch. She was getting too good at this—smiling when she felt guilty. Pasting on a smooth face when inside, she was a mess. The next step was lying, and she was falling head-first into that.

Why was it so important for her to have a fake fiancé? She didn’t want a fiancé, real or fake, right now. At all. Why would she want to hand her life over to an annoying, farting, domineering man?

By the time Wheeler left, after making arrangements to meet for dinner in two nights, she was coiled tight and ready to snap. Rodgers shut the door behind Wheeler and clapped his hands together.

“Well, that went well. The fiancé thing was a nice touch. Good thinking having him come here.”

She hesitated, collecting all of her papers and buying a moment to collect her thoughts. “You do realize I didn’t plan that, right? He isn’t really my fiancé. He’s my brother’s—”

“I don’t give a damn who he really is. For all intents and purposes, he’s your fiancé.” Mr. Rodgers pointed a beefy finger at her. “And he will be needed again.”

“What?” Stephanie dropped the papers she had painstakingly gathered. Pages fluttered everywhere. “What do you mean?”

“If you want that investor—and this job—you will find a way to keep that man in your life.” He sat down and put his feet up on the table. “I don’t care what you have to do, but get him to stay.”

She licked her parched lips. “And if I refuse?”

“Then you know where the door is. Use it.” He rubbed his chin and studied her. “But then who will help all those children who don’t have healthcare? Can you count on the next person who fills your shoes to care as much as you do? Can you walk away with a clear conscience?”

Manipulative bastard. Stephanie knelt down and collected the papers again. Damn it, but he knew her weak point. She wanted to tell him to stick his demands where the sun don’t shine, but if she did that, what would happen to the project? What if it fell through the cracks, and the contract wasn’t signed? Could she live with that? But…

…could she live with herself if she lied?

More—could she get through this without killing that ridiculously handsome, stupidly uptight rock of a man?

She stood and clutched the papers against her chest. Meeting Rodgers’s eyes defiantly, she said, “I’ll talk to him tonight and see what I can do.”

Mr. Rodgers nodded. “Good choice. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stephanie collected what was left of her honor, along with the few random papers she’d missed, and left the room.

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