accomplish Nick’s goal of making people believe we’re deeply in love.
I square my shoulders and stand, straightening up in the mirror. Reaching down inside myself, I find my inner badass and put on her mask.
Damn it, I’ll do this.
For Beatrice.
For Brandt Ideas.
For freaking Ward.
And above all else, for me.
14
Life Is A Shipwreck (Ward)
I peel off my suit and hang it for Grayson’s next dry-cleaning run, change into sweats, get the fireplace started, grab a bottle of wine, and collapse on the couch.
Paige isn’t comfortable here. Her body tensed up the moment we arrived, and she did that last night too.
Hell, I’m not at ease with Paige around either.
My blood thrums with every glance, every quip, every hot second our eyes connect too long.
It’s a cruel, self-inflicted joke that I’m fake-engaged to a woman I can never haul into my bed and ravish. And perhaps it’s a crueler one that my unruly dick intends to remind me of that fact every aching second we’re sharing the same room.
This sprawling penthouse suddenly feels claustrophobic.
It’s going to be a long three months.
Yeah, forget the glass. I put the bottle to my lips and regret not choosing something stronger.
Paige prances in barefoot a second later, wearing a sleek black dress that hangs halfway down her thighs.
Fuck.
Is the skin hidden by her black silk as creamy as what’s visible?
Do I even have to ask? She’s an angel with a devil’s tongue and a medusa’s gaze.
She watches me drink from the bottle and laughs when I wrinkle my nose.
“That bad, huh?”
“Should’ve gone straight for scotch,” I mutter.
She holds her hand out and I pass her the bottle.
“It’s white,” I warn. “Would you prefer a red?”
“Actually, I would. How did you know that?”
My eyes meet hers and I try to ignore the static, the way those jade gems bomb my soul.
“You just strike me as a red wine kind of girl.”
She nods, a tussle of gold falling over her shoulder I try not to think about in my fist. “I don’t like to taste the alcohol much, but I enjoy the buzz.”
“Be right back,” I say.
I pad over to the kitchen and snatch the sweetest red wine off its rack, then pour it into a goblet. When I return to the living room, Paige sits on the couch, still holding the wine bottle.
I scoff. Ten bucks says she hasn’t taken a single swig.
Holding out the goblet, I offer her a smile.
“Trade me.”
She looks from the bottle to the glass. “Hmm, why would I trade you a whole bottle for a glass?”
“One glass is all you’ve ever needed, isn’t it?” I quirk a brow.
Her lips twist in astonishment, then bloom into a giggle. “Man, you’re never going to let me live down that night.”
She lets me take the bottle from her hand and accepts the glass, taking a loud slurp from the goblet.
“Paige?”
“Hold on.” She takes another lengthy sip and pulls the glass away. “I may need to be drunk to get through this. Putting up with your crap, I mean.”
And I thought she meant this whole surreal situation.
I gulp several pulls straight from the bottle again.
“Your grandma thinks you’re nice. Why won’t you let anyone else see it?” she asks.
It’s my turn to laugh, a bitter edge in my voice. “She’s Grandma. She has to think that. Has she been talking to you?”
She nods with a syrupy smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on you, Wardhole.”
“We’re supposed to act like we’re in love, remember? Dropping Wardhole feels like a good place to start,” I growl, loving how her face heats when my eyes sink into her.
“It’s a term of endearment,” she says softly.
Is it?
She doesn’t call Nicholas anything like that.
“Did Grandma tell you not to be so hard on me?” I ask.
“Eh, something like that.” She brings a finger to her pensive lips, pretending she’s deep in thought. “I’m giving her advice the consideration it deserves.”
Shit. I’ve got to talk to Grandma tomorrow. This is awkward enough without her butting into my fake relationship.
“How’s the guest suite treating you?”
“Unfamiliar, cold, lonely...but very luxurious. Hard to complain.” She smiles as she lifts the goblet to her lips again.
“I’m sorry. Once you’re used to it, it won’t be unfamiliar. As for the temperature, I can put a space heater in, or you can change the thermostat anytime to warm it up—”
“Oh, Ward, I didn’t mean cold as in frigid—I meant uninviting.”
“Bull. It’s a beautiful living space,” I say, careful not to feel wounded.