Fake Marriage Box Set

Corsica put down the wooden spoon and came to stand right in front of me. "You were so young. You must have been terrified."

I flinched away from her hands. "I wasn't terrified. I was outraged. The only problem was that I was just a little boy, and I couldn't protect my mother."

"But you were there for her," Corsica said. She refused to let me turn away and grabbed my face with both hands. I didn't see any pity in her eyes, only understanding. "You were powerless, but you did what you could. You shouldn't have to feel guilty if it wasn't enough."

Our lips brushed, and I felt a jolt like an earthquake. Somehow she understood, and that connection shook me harder than the bright pulse of desire I felt for her.

#

That pulse had turned to a knot by morning, and when I woke up, I was stiff with wanting Corsica. The song we had danced to echoed in my head, despite the fact that the version I heard was the one my father had played for her. It was tangled with thoughts of my hands sliding around her waist, her lips brushing mine, and our legs pressing against each other under the linen tablecloth. Then there was the glorious few minutes when my father had gone to bed, but Corsica worried we should keep up our engaged pretense.

We had stayed curled up on the leather sofa, my hand brushing along the bare heat of her shoulder and arm. Before it was obvious that we were alone, I stole a kiss. Actually, it was more like Corsica had surrendered a kiss to me. Her head fell back on the sofa, lips opening so I could taste her deeper.

I groaned and sat up. I had to find a way to make Corsica spend the night with me. There had to be a way our ruse would force it. Then, I could kiss her like that again, take it further, and hopefully get her out of my system before I lost my mind.

"Hello?" I was still groggy and hard when I answered the phone call.

It was my assistant, and before I hit the second syllable of my greeting, he let loose a long list of things I needed to get done as soon as possible.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm doing all I can, but there's a reason you're the boss and I'm the assistant," he complained. "And I know I shouldn't interrupt your family vacation, but I'm afraid some of this stuff needs to be sorted out now."

"Family vacation?" I yanked on a pair of jeans and headed to the kitchen for coffee. "Is that the excuse you're giving people?"

My assistant paused, annoyed that I was off-topic. "Yes. I mean, no. You told me it was a family medical emergency. Then, I just assumed you were taking the rest of the time to spend with your family."

"Yeah, that's it," I said, completely distracted as the front door of the house opened.

Corsica sailed in, lit up with residual energy from her long, morning run. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting her salty skin.

"Are you swearing at me? I didn't know when else to call. Is there a better time?" my assistant all but wailed into the phone.

"What? No. I'm not swearing at you. Now is fine."

Corsica noticed me and gave me a bright smile. "I'm going to make scrambled eggs and hash browns. Want some?"

I was starving, but not just for breakfast. My mind dangled between the ache Corsica gave me, that grew more solid every time I saw her, and my need to get back to normal before I lost it completely. "No, thanks. Coffee," I said.

She brought the pot and a mug over to me and then noticed the phone balanced on my shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

Corsica was being so nice that it made me mad. All I wanted to do was throw the phone and make love to her here on the kitchen floor. She, on the other hand, didn't look at all affected by my half-nakedness. It burned me that I wanted her so badly and she just breezed back to the stove as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Boss? You still there?" my assistant squeaked.

"Yes, let me just get somewhere quieter where I can concentrate," I snapped. I made sure Corsica noticed me, all business despite my lack of shirt, as I paced around the living room. I grabbed the laptop that I didn't need, a pad of paper that was actually covered in a thin layer of dust, and hustled off to my unused office.

She was getting the message until my best friend Phillip threw the front door open and didn't even pause before interrupting me. "Oh, good, your phone is working. I love when I walk long distances just to find out I'm being ignored."

Corsica smiled and offered him a cup of coffee. "It's a business call," she explained on my behalf.

Phillip snorted. "Then you know what a workaholic he is. Too bad. I thought he was finally starting to see the light."

I couldn't defend myself with my assistant anxiously delivering a litany of work tasks into my ear. "This will only take a second," I snapped at Phillip. "I'm not a workaholic. And your place is not even a mile from here."

"Who cares if you're back to your 'all work and no play' ways," Phillip asked with a rude gesture directed at me. "I'm just here to see if Corsica wants to join me for a little sightseeing. Maybe some window shopping down Cannery Row?"

I hung up on my assistant, but not before Corsica beamed. "I'd love to go. Thank you! Let me just shower and get ready. Ten minutes. All I need is ten minutes," she called over her shoulder.

Phillip watched her go and whistled under his breath. "Ten minutes? I believe it, but God, she could have said three days and I think I would still wait. What in the hell are you doing, Penn?"