“All right. You want a non-conventional fake wedding. I can make that happen.”
A frustrated groan came from the back of her throat. “JT, we have to work together.”
He smiled her way. “I know. I think we’re going to be good at it. I feel way better knowing you’re going in with me. Though we should talk about a couple of things. You know about Sanctum, right? It’s a lifestyle club.”
“I work in a lifestyle club.”
He’d been curious about this part of her life. “Are you in the lifestyle? I have Master rights at Sanctum.”
“I have Master rights at The Garden,” she replied.
He knew damn well that was a lie, and he wished he had the right to spank her pretty ass. “No you don’t, sub.”
She kept her eyes on the road, but there was some humor in her tone. “How do you know I’m not a top?”
“Because I topped you last night. I took control and you responded beautifully.” Knowing that she was in the lifestyle actually explained a few things to him. She had responded when he’d taken control, and she likely would enjoy more dominance when it came to the bedroom.
“What if I told you I was a switch?”
He wouldn’t have guessed she would like to ever top anyone during sex, but he could give it a go. After all, being a top was all about giving a bottom what they needed. “I would ask if you needed a real sub to top or if I could learn how to do that for you because I think I would have trouble watching you with someone else.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Are you for real?”
“Last time I checked.” He drove in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how she was feeling. “I’m not perfect. Far from it.”
“From where I’m sitting you’re pretty close.” She shifted in her seat. “So we should talk about how this needs to go.”
“Yes. I think we should start with some minor impact play.” He wasn’t going to have this conversation with her. Not the one about all the reasons they shouldn’t continue to sleep together. There wasn’t any reason they should stop. In fact, it would help their cover if they were sleeping together. She was clinging to some rule that didn’t need to apply to them.
“I take back the part where I said you’re perfect. You’re obviously very thick.”
He could turn that around, too. “I’m glad you noticed. I thought it worked well lengthwise, too.”
She stared at him. “You think I’m talking about your dick, don’t you?”
He did not in any way think she’d been talking about his cock, but he’d learned that hiding his intelligence could help him out in numerous ways. It was always good to be underestimated. “And I appreciate the compliment. Now let’s talk lingerie because there’s always some asshole who shows up in the early morning hours and I can’t have them thinking I force you to wear my old shirts. They’ll start to worry about my finances, and then they talk to a reporter and suddenly my stock tanks. I think there’s a La Perla here.”
“La Perla?” She sat up straight, smoothing back her hair. “You’re not going to be serious about this, are you?”
“I’m perfectly serious about giving you the best cover possible.”
“It’s not going to work,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, it will.” He was talking about exactly what she was. It would work. They could work. But she wasn’t ready to hear that yet.
Nina went stiff, and for a moment he was worried she was going to insist they have this fight here and now. That was something he wasn’t ready for. Not even close. “JT, do you see the SUV behind us?”
He glanced in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, there was a gray SUV behind them, a single male in the driver’s seat. “Yes.”
“Take the next exit. I want to see if he follows.”
He did as she asked, getting off of 75 and turning left on Mockingbird. The SUV followed close behind. “What do you want me to do?”
“Let’s stop and have some lunch and see if he picks up after we’re done. I’ll send Big Tag the plate number just in case.” She was on her phone, texting. “I could use some Mexican. It’s the one thing I can’t get in London. I mean, obviously we have Mexican restaurants, but it’s not the same.”
Mexican it was then. And then he would show her exactly what he had to offer her.
Chapter Five
Nina stood in the middle of the private dressing room that had to be meant for large bridal parties since it was the size of a small house and had two chaise lounges available for customers. She’d already been offered champagne—which she’d forced herself to turn down.
This was JT’s world. Not hers. It couldn’t be hers.
How had that man stayed so sweetly down to earth when he obviously lived in heaven?
She forced herself back to the problems at hand.
Someone was following them, and that meant she couldn’t have the conversation they needed to have. Not that he would let them have it since he seemed to deliberately misunderstand everything she said.
“I brought five cocktail dresses for you to try on.” The salesperson strode into the room. She was perfectly dressed, a testament to her dedication to her job, which was to make sure everyone who walked in the door looked good. And expensive.
The salesperson hung the dresses on the rack of the private dressing room they’d been shown to after they’d torn through the shoe section. Charlotte had been right. Helena knew her shoes. She now had the most spectacular pair of sexed-up Louboutins she’d ever seen. JT hadn’t let her stop there. She had ten new pairs. Apparently her sad pair of flip-flops wouldn’t do for pool time. She’d required Valentino studded sandals in three different colors.
She didn’t even want to think about the fact that he wanted to take her to Tiffany after this
