From Fake to Forever (Newlywed Games 2)

Jason had a vision for putting the pieces of his life back together and no woman would sway him from realizing it. He was stronger than his father.

While he flopped into one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting area of her hotel room, she crossed to the minibar and pulled two beers from the fridge, flipped off the caps expertly and handed him one.

“I don’t want to be at odds, Jason. You’re upset. I get that. But don’t come in here slinging ultimatums and expect me to fall in line. Let’s do this differently.”

What the hell. He loosened his tie, guzzled a third of the cold dark beer and raised his eyebrows. “Which is how?”

She took the opposite chair and swung it around to face him, settling into it with her beer. Kicking off her heels, she curled her feet under her and propped her chin on her hand. “Talk to me. Like you used to. Tell me what you want in exchange for the divorce. I might volunteer to give it to you, for old times’ sake.”

Like you used to. As if they had history.

But really, didn’t they? Just because it had only been one weekend didn’t make it any less significant, whether he’d like to go back in time and erase it or not.

“What if what I really want is to stay married?”

It wasn’t, but he was in a reckless mood after all his careful plans had unraveled in the course of an afternoon. One kiss wasn’t enough to get him completely over the destruction this woman had caused. Plus, she’d piqued his curiosity about the divorce. Why was it so important to her? There were a lot of women who might find it convenient to be married to someone from a powerful fashion-industry family. The fact that she didn’t intrigued him.

Of course, Meredith had always been one of a kind.

Her genuine smile hit him in the not-yet-cooled lower half, further proving the point. No woman had ever turned him on with simply a grin. Except his wife, apparently.

“You don’t want to stay married any more than I do,” she said. “The fact that you’re threatening me with it tells me you need something very badly. What?”

His return smile shouldn’t have been so easy, but her mind had always been the most attractive thing about her. He might never have left Vegas with a solid idea of how to heal the fractures in his life without her influence. Why not continue the trend?

“Do you remember why I was in Vegas?”

“I remember everything, including that cute birthmark on your butt. Your parents divorced and split up Lynhurst. You were a wreck over it.” She waggled her brows. “Or you were until I distracted you.”

It had happened two years ago. The memories shouldn’t be so sharp, but they were...for both of them, obviously. “You did take care of me, quite well. And vice versa, if I recall.”

“Oh, yeah. That was never in question.” She shut her eyes for a beat and hummed happily under her breath. “Best nineteen orgasms of my life.”

“You kept track?”

She glanced at him from under lowered lashes, her gaze hot and full of appreciation. “Darling, I didn’t have to keep track. Every one of them is burned into my center. Indelibly.”

He let himself drown in memories of her for a moment. None of the barriers he easily employed with other women seemed to have an effect on her anyway. “Yeah. I can see your point.”

The experience was scored across his soul, as well. Meredith had brought out a wild side he hadn’t even realized existed. Or maybe it only existed because of her, which was all the more reason to stay far away.

“Was there a reason you brought that up?” Meredith asked. “We seem to be stuck on it, when I could have sworn you had something else entirely you wanted to chat about.”

He shook his gaze free from the seductive depths of Meredith’s gaze and cleared his throat.

Obviously, he needed to take a cold shower if he hoped to accomplish anything. Whatever power she held over him couldn’t be allowed to interfere with the endgame. “I spent the last two years executing the plan I came up with in Vegas. It’s simple. Reunite Lyn Couture and Hurst House under the Lynhurst Enterprises umbrella and step into the CEO position. Who better to run it than me, right?”

Slinging a shapely leg over the arm of the chair, she tossed back the last of her beer as her skirt rode up to reveal a healthy slice of gorgeous thigh. “Yep. You’ve got CEO written all over you.”

“Meiling was a part of that plan.” A critical part. She was the kind of wife a CEO needed, not the overblown sex goddess in the opposite chair. But he had to work with what he had. “Now that she’s out of the picture, I have to come up with plan B.”