Billionaire Bad Boy's Fake Bride

She did her best to put it all behind her and try to get through the evening so that it remained a pleasant event for everyone. That was part of her job at the moment.

Connor played his role well, never allowing her far from his side, his arm always around her waist to keep her near. When dancing started, they didn’t leave the floor for at least the first hour, and the music was all slow, probably deliberately arranged that way by William, an event planner, or perhaps even Connor himself—because he seemed to have forgotten all about their decision to be wise and back away from the attraction between them, knowing it was scripted to end badly.

She was having trouble remembering that herself as he spun around the floor again, his arms clamping tightly around her as he pulled her back into his embrace, and his lips grazed hers. It was a quick kiss, followed by another and another, each lasting longer than the one before. If they hadn’t been in public, the focus of almost all the eyes in the room, she was certain neither one of them would have had the strength to pull away when they did. She cleared her throat and kept her voice pitched low. “You’re playing with fire here, Connor.”

He groaned, pulling her even closer as he buried his face in the bend of her neck, his lips gently nibbling her skin before he spoke a second later. “I think I want to get burned.”

She stiffened slightly. “You know how this ends. We both do.” Heaven help her, she was saying it just as much to remind herself as she was him.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean we couldn’t have a heckuva time before it’s over. Just think about it.”

She groaned. “I have been. I wish I could stop thinking about it.” That was the truth. All night, all she could imagine was how it would feel to end the party by slipping into his room upstairs, since they were staying overnight in the mansion, and surrender to the tug of desire between them. She was having trouble remembering all the reasons why it was a bad idea, and she could feel herself weakening.

She was in big trouble.

***

After the party, he took her hand and pulled her up the stairs behind him, pausing near her door with questioning look. “Should I leave you here? Or do you want to go the rest of the way with me?”

The rest of the way was way too far, and far too reckless. She knew that, and though her body was burning and her heart was pounding, she opened her mouth, licked her lips, and said the only sensible words that she could in the situation. “Take me with you, Connor.”

His room was immaculate and just a shade larger than the one she’d been given for her use, and she was unsurprised to find they shared an adjoining door. Her future father-in-law—if she’d actually been marrying Connor, that was—had made it easy for them to be discreet.

She wasn’t too worried about being discreet right now with the door closed behind them, and Connor’s hands moving over her body in a leisurely fashion. He was just touching her in a slow and careful way, his fingertips gliding over her skin as though he was absorbing the details of her molecular pattern through the whorls of his fingerprints.

His mouth explored hers in a slow fashion, as though they had all night to taste each other. Knowing they did have all night, she was able to rein in the urge to rush, to push him down on the bed, climb on top of him, and ravish the man that she was suddenly desperately in lust with.

Lust was all it was. That’s all it could be, and as long as she kept that in mind, there was nothing wrong with this little fling. It was just a harmless indulgence, and it wouldn’t hurt anyone. She just had to remember to keep it in perspective.

When they reached the bed a few minutes later, it was a completely natural progression of events, and she had no hesitation when she laid down beside him, running her fingers through his dark blonde hair before she began to unbutton the buttons of his tuxedo shirt. “Has anyone ever told you, Connor, that you’re a beautiful man.”

He grinned at her, looking arrogant, but also endearingly boyish at the same time. “No one’s ever said that, but I guess I didn’t need them to. I already knew it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Same old Connor.”

He took her hand in his, preventing her from continuing to unbutton his shirt. “No, not really.” He was surprisingly intense as he brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I feel completely different these days, Angelina, and I’m sure that’s because of you.”

“Don’t spin me a line about changing, Connor. There’s no need to change anything. In fact, tonight changes nothing. We both know where this is headed, and we don’t need a bunch of pretty words or fake emotions clouding the issue, do we?”

He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, though his expression looked faintly troubled. “I just don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

He was oddly anxious, as though doubting she would believe his assertion, but she found it unnerving rather than touching. She wanted this to be a straightforward physical exchange, and she didn’t know what to think of his insistence of making it more intimate. Getting personal and emotional was a bad idea that would only lead to heartbreak, and the last thing she wanted to do was fall in love with Connor.

That thought, more than any other, was what brought her to her senses and had her pulling her hand free from his. Rolling off the bed, she straightened her dress and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but I think this is a mistake. Excuse me, but I’m have to go now.”

He looked dazed as he sat up, not even quite off the bed before she had made it to the door that joined their rooms. She threw it open and was past the doorjamb before he was close enough to reach out for her.

“Angelina, wait. Come back please. Let’s talk about this.”

She paused just long enough to look over her shoulder and shake her head. “There’s really nothing to talk about, is there? It was just the heat of the moment, and I’m sorry. I don’t do casual sex, and I think it would just make our situation more complicated. Good night, Connor.” Before he could argue with her, she closed the door in his face and locked her side. Perhaps that was overkill, but she felt better when the lock was in place. Like the last time she had locked herself on the other side of a door from him, she wasn’t sure if it was to keep him out or herself in.

***

Connor stared at the closed door for a long moment, resting his palm against it. He was confused by how quickly she had changed her mind, and instinct urged him to pound on the door until she opened it and explained herself, so he could soothe away her worries and bring her back to his bed.

Common sense exerted itself over instinct, forcing him to take a step back and turn away. He knew she had done the right thing, but it wasn’t just his physical state of frustration that left him aching and wishing she hadn’t experienced a sudden return of logic that had propelled her from his bed and back to her own room. Right now, he could be losing himself in the silken depths of his fiancée, rather than blocked from her by a solid wooden door and her own rejection.

Fake fiancée, he mentally corrected, several beats too late. Dammit. Was she really starting to feel like his actual fiancée? Was he falling for the woman who was playing the role of his fiancée? He was the one who had written the ending, so he knew what she had to do.

Falling for her would be a colossal mistake, the kind that would change his life, and probably not for the better. Angelina showed no signs of having fallen for him, and she seemed to have no doubt about the outcome of their approaching wedding. He was certain if he tentatively suggested that she not leave him at the altar, she would laugh herself silly or run away in fear.

Not that he was actually considering canceling the jilting. That would mean accepting the idea of a wife. Any wife sounded pretty horrific when he wasn’t in love with someone. Angelina would make a nice wife though, he had to concede. She was sweet and sexy, but also studious and responsible. She knew how to get things done, and his father liked her.

“Whoa,” he cautioned himself as he went into the bathroom and pr

epared to take a cold shower. Those were dangerous thoughts he was having. Unless he was really prepared to settle down, he’d better rein them in quickly.

And even if he was prepared to think about something long-term and permanent, he was certain Angelina wasn’t. She would probably let him down easily, even kindly, but she would still reject the idea out-of-hand.