I headed out into the hall and opened the door for Damien.
A thin-as-a-rake nurse greeted me and swept past. “He’s in the living room,” I called then frowned at Damien. “She didn’t introduce herself.”
“She’s the best money can buy,” he replied, his deep espresso eyes fixed on me. “You’re wearing a dress.”
“Yeah, is that a problem?” I’d chosen a floral print summer dress that swept to the knee but hugged my breasts and was cinched at the waist. It was the nicest thing I had—if I was going to pretend to be Damien’s fiancée, I had to try look the part.
“No, it’s not. You look delicious,” he replied, heat entering his voice. He cleared his throat. “We’ll shop before we get to the resort.”
“I packed a bag. I don’t need to shop.”
“You’ll need to wear designer clothes,” he said and took my hand.
Electricity sparked through my chest and nearly knocked me off my feet. He led me down the hall and toward my bedroom.
The last time he’d been inside it, he’d been inside me too. Don’t think about it.
He eyed my bag on the bed. “That’s it?” he asked.
“Yeah. Is that unsatisfactory for you?” I walked over to it and grabbed the handle. Any excuse to let go of his hand and stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss him again. It wasn’t fair that he had this effect on me. On all women. I had to remember that.
I wasn’t special to him.
He came over and placed his hand over mine. “It’s fine,” he said. “I don’t have requirements for your luggage, Hazel.”
“Then why ask?”
“So I can take it to the car for you,” he replied, studying me, the scent of him washing over me.
Goosebumps rose on my skin, and I held my breath, trying not to react. My body had a mind of its own, though, and his gaze wandered to my cleavage then to my lips and to my eyes.
“Let go of the bag,” he said.
“I can take it myself.”
“There’s a lot of things you can do by yourself.” He brushed a thumb over the back of my hand, and my grip on the bag’s handle faltered. I dropped it, he caught it. “And a lot of things you shouldn’t have to.”
He passed the bag to one hand, easily. It wasn’t like I’d packed light either, and it was a reminder of the strong body that was hidden underneath that suit and tie.
Stop it!
Damien offered me a smile and reached into his pocket. He withdrew a ring box. “For you,” he said and put it in my hand. He leaned in, brushing the hair from ear and sending another spiral of shivers through my core. “Don’t lose it.”
He walked for the door, brushing past me and drowning me in his scent. I waited until his footsteps faded before opening the box.
A diamond ring sat nestled on a velvet cushion. The diamond was massive, tucked against a white gold band.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. I snapped the box shut and closed my fist around it, my palm growing sweaty.
15
Damien
“You need to put it on.” I sat in the leather armchair in the private jet, watching her and holding back with everything I had in me. There was something about her in this setting. Her green eyes were wide, and she kept turning her head, scanning the inside of the jet like she could scarcely believe she was here.
Like fucking Cinderella, except sexy as hell and without glass slippers. And, of course, with ambition to not ever settle for a prince.
Good thing I wasn’t one.
“Hazel.”
She jerked slightly, and the leather squeaked underneath her. Tan leather. Her tan body would look amazing sprawled across it, naked. “What?”
“The ring,” I replied and checked my watch. We’d be there in half an hour. “You need to put it on.”
“Right. Yeah.” She grabbed her purse where she’d secreted the ring and gave me another glimpse of her breasts.
I averted my eyes, cussing myself out mentally. I was as red-blooded as the next guy, but there was something about Hazel that drove me wild. My forbidden fruit. I itched to peel back the layers and discover her pleasure points.
Hazel straightened, holding the velvet box in her fingers. “Didn’t lose it.”
“That’s good,” I replied. “That was my mother’s ring.”
Her jaw dropped. “W–what? Are you insane?” She thrust it out. “I can’t wear this. It’s real.”
“Of course it’s real. My father would spot a fake a mile away. He’d expect my woman to wear the real thing.”
“I’m not your woman.”
“You are for the next thirty days,” I replied, relishing the taste of that declaration. “And you are for the weekend. You’ve got to start practicing, Hazel. Come here.”
“Why?”
“Sit with me,” I said. “We’ve got to get comfortable. Go over our a few things you don’t know yet.”
“Like what?”
“Hazel.”
She sighed and unclipped her seatbelt then got up and walked over. “I’m sitting here,” she said, gesturing to the chair next to mine, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“I’m aware of that,” I replied. “This is just business. Try not to forget that.”
“You try not to forget that,” she countered.
I loved her defiance, and that she thought she could resist her baser urges around me. Desire was written all over her face, in the curves of her body, in the sighs and the surreptitious looks she sent my way.
Finally, Hazel lowered herself into the seat next to mine. She pushed herself into the far corner, like that would keep her safe from me, whatever the fuck that meant.
“Now what?” she asked.
God damn, she was cute. “Now, this.” I leaned over and took the box from her fingers. They trembled under my touch, and I tried not to take notice. Her trembling was a one-way ticket to a raging hard-on and blue balls later on.
I removed the ring
