Wicked Dirty (Stark World 2)

I turn back to the crowd as Lyle pushes his way toward me. And then I say--very slowly and clearly--"Of course it's true. He asked me on the beach. And, no, we haven't set the date yet." I hold out my hand for him as I tell the crowd, "The truth is, I'm not crazy about public appearances. But I know I have to get used to them. So one picture, okay? And then if you could leave us alone for a while, that would be just swell."

He's already climbing the stairs as I say the last. Swell? he mouths, but I just broaden my already tight smile.

Behind him, Greg is climbing the steps, too, and he dodges around Lyle to get close to me. I know what he's going to say, of course. Or, rather, what he's going to ask. And I really can't risk one of the reporters overhearing him or reading his lips.

So I throw my arms around him, give him a big hug, and whisper very softly, "Go inside. Please, please don't argue or ask question. Just wait inside."

I take it on faith that he will, then I turn back to Lyle and face the crowd.

Lyle slides an arm around me, but I wriggle away. I take his hand, though; after all, I'm the one who kept this ridiculous charade going.

"Okay, people," Lyle says. "You heard her. Just one photo, and then we're going inside. As you can imagine, this isn't the announcement we had planned. Not to mention, you're trampling her lawn."

There's a general murmur of consent and apology from the crowd. More snaps and flashes, and then they start to shuffle away. Lyle pushes the process along by getting into the crowd and herding them like sheep.

Then he snaps my gate shut and turns to face me.

I meet his eyes, turn my back, and slam through the door into my house, only to find Greg right there waiting for me. "You're engaged?"

"No!" I blurt without thinking.

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head, the picture of confusion. "In that case, what the hell is going on?"

Before I can even think how I'm possibly going to answer that, Lyle bursts inside, his expression tight, as if he's holding in a burning rage. "I'm sorry," he says, then looks around, as if ready to kick something. An assumption that's borne out when he lashes out brutally and punches the air. "God, Sugar. I'm so damn sorry."

"Really?" I snap. "And what exactly are you sorry about? Sneaking out of my house this morning? Setting a horde of reporters on me? Making up a fake engagement? Because I'm a little fuzzy on the details of your apology."

"All of the above," he says. "Except I didn't make up the engagement. I came here trying to warn you and do damage control."

His voice is calm. Rational. And I don't care at all. Right now, I'm not in the mood to be soothed.

"Well, thanks for that tiny little favor. Now do you think you could quit with the hollow apologies and just tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"I'll second that," Greg says, making me jump. He's only standing a few feet away, but I'd been so focused on Lyle, that I'd completely tuned him out. "I saw your picture from last night at that art thing, and I was going to ask how you know an actual celebrity. But fake engagement? I mean, Christ, Laine. Are you in trouble?"

I shoot an angry glance toward Lyle. "Not the kind you mean."

"Then what kind do you mean?"

"Look," Lyle cuts in. "This is between Sugar and me."

"Greg was invited," I snap. "You weren't."

"Exactly," Greg says, looking smug. "And she prefers Laine," Greg says, and my stomach twists a little. Because generally, Greg is right. But when Lyle says Sugar, it sounds like an endearment. And even as furious as I am right now, I kind of like the sound of it.

Shit.

I square my shoulders, reminding myself that he is not off the hook--not by a long shot--then turn my attention back to Lyle. "So?" I demand. "Tell me what this is all about."

He cuts a glance toward Greg, and stays silent. I sigh. "However this plays out, I'm not keeping it a secret from Greg or from Joy."

"Dammit, Laine. You--"

"You don't agree? Then leave right now. Because I'm thinking that we're way, way, way outside any NDA. And you know what? Even if we weren't, you can just sue me." I put my hands on my hips and stare him down.

And the bastard actually smiles.

Okay, he's fighting it. But I can see his mouth twitching.