From Fake to Forever (Newlywed Games 2)

He’d been hard and delicious, and while he might be lying to himself about not being into her, his erection against her backside had told her the plain, honest truth. He wanted her. And she wanted him. Sex between them had been mind-altering. Explosive. Unmatched.

So why all the theatrics over whether they’d eventually end up in bed? It was pretty much a foregone conclusion in her mind. Once she got him between the sheets, they’d laugh over private jokes and share their souls and he’d remember how great it had been in Vegas.

Maybe they wouldn’t have to end things so quickly this time.

Jason cleared his throat. “Good thinking with Allo. It was impressive.”

“Yeah, well you owe me.” A spiky little thrill in her midsection that had nothing to do with sex surprised her. She’d been trying to save her job, but Jason’s approval meant more than it should.

“Avery just waltzed in. Showtime.”

Jason’s heat vanished. By all rights, they should have been vanishing through the door together to make out in the car on the way back to her hotel room, where the big, lonely bed would actually be used for its rightful purpose.

All at once, it wasn’t sex she craved, but the totally foreign desire to fall asleep in Jason’s arms, like she had in Vegas, knowing they’d wake up together in the morning in perfect sync. Back then, they’d shared some kind of mystical connection that she desperately missed.

“See you around, boss,” she muttered for the second time with a mental salute.

Here in New York, he wasn’t on her side. In this sea of people, she was alone. It wasn’t the two of them against the world, supporting each other and dreaming of how the future could look. All of that seemed to have been left behind in the desert.

Maybe he’d changed more than she’d been willing to admit. Was that why she couldn’t find her footing with him?

Maybe he was right about keeping things platonic. The last thing she wanted was to get naked with Jason again, only to have her perfect fantasy destroyed by reality.

Sadness cut through her heart. She was chasing a man who didn’t exist any longer. She had to stop wishing for something that wasn’t going to happen. Get the intel, get the divorce and get home so she could ask her father for a loan—that was her purpose here. This was nothing more than a job.

It was bad enough to have one person to answer to. In actuality, she had two. And she didn’t like either one of them at the moment. She elbowed her way through the crowd until she caught sight of Jason’s sister.

Meredith pasted on her best I’m-the-answer-to-all-your-prayers smile and approached Avery Lynhurst. The blonde woman oozed style and class in her Hurst House gown and emanated the warmth of a barracuda. She and Jason shared similar features, mostly around the mouth and eyes, and they both had that sharp, attentive air as if neither of them missed an iota of what happened around them. Meredith had a feeling Avery used the information she gathered to get what she wanted just as effectively as Jason did.

Avery was indeed a formidable opponent to Jason’s plans.

“Ms. Lynhurst, I’m Meredith Chandler-Harris.” Meredith shook the other woman’s hand as Avery took her measure. “I’m Allo’s new assistant.”

“Yes, I know.” With a toss of her white-blond hair, Avery swept Meredith with a condescending glance. “Nice of you to deign to wear the label of the house that signs your paychecks.”

Meredith smiled as she clamped her back teeth together to keep the snarl from escaping. “Wearing Wang to the office today was a rookie mistake. I’m a fast learner, obviously.”

Avery nodded to Meredith’s dress. “That’s one of my favorites. It’s not my color, though.”

To anyone else, Avery’s comment would have seemed downright friendly, but Meredith had spent years in the trenches with pageant contestants and she recognized the need to tread carefully. Avery wasn’t complimenting her, that was for sure.

“But only you could pull off that particular Allo.” As she eyed Avery’s dress, Meredith fixed the most appreciative and slightly jealous look on her face possible. “He designed it with you in mind, clearly. And his inspiration was well-founded.”

“Yes, well.” Avery cocked her head. “Where did you work before coming to Hurst House? I know every designer and designer’s assistant in Manhattan. You’re not from here.”

“I’m from Houston.” And the name Chandler-Harris meant nothing in New York, so Meredith didn’t bother to toss in a mention of her connections. “I worked for a bridal design company. I feel truly blessed to have a chance to work for a top-notch label like Hurst House.”