Dane’s personal social media accounts—it was part of my job to manage his. I didn’t wait to read people’s comments. I simply returned my phone to my purse. “There. Done. It won’t be long before your family starts calling to either complain or pass on their congratulations.”
Blowing out a long breath, I rubbed my chest. My heart felt heavy. My family and friends were so happy for me, so supportive and excited … and I was lying through my wisdom teeth. They didn’t deserve the deception. It made me feel like one sorry piece of shit, but I kept the guilt from showing on my face, not wanting to—
“You’ve no reason to feel guilty, Vienna.”
But I did need to be concerned that I was in the presence of a fucking warlock.
“If your family knew all the details, if they understood why you owed me a favor and why you had to lie to them, they’d get it. But they can’t know. No one can.”
“I know. And they probably would understand. That doesn’t make me feel any better about deceiving them.” But I didn’t expect him to get that. It was abundantly clear that he felt no such guilt for fooling his own family.
I thought about asking if it would have bothered him to lie to Hugh, but I bit back the question. It was too personal. It wasn’t my business.
“Come on, we have a busy day ahead. Tomorrow will be even busier.”
It would indeed. God, to think I’d be married tomorrow. Married. Yet not. Because it was only paperwork.
I took a deep breath, telling myself it was no big deal. Actors got married onscreen all the time. This was really no different. Except that the officiant who married us would be a real officiant. And that I’d have to lie to him, just as I was lying to everyone else.
I groaned. “I’m going to hell.” At least I had an “in” with its supreme ruler, having worked for him for four years. Still … “I should have said no to all this.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you had. I told you once before, I would have pressed you until you agreed. Now let’s get moving. It’s going to be a long day.”
He hadn’t been wrong. The hours dragged on. I couldn’t count the number of times I heard the word “congratulations.” People gave me hugs, slapped Dane lightly on the back, asked when the big day was, and shamelessly tried to get themselves an invitation to the wedding.
A few commented on how quickly he’d proposed, and I could see they assumed I was pregnant. Each time, Dane shrugged and said, “I always move fast when going after what I want.” I merely claimed it didn’t feel fast to me because we’d known each other so long and had secretly been dating for a while.
When photographers snapped pictures of us at the after-reception, I said to Dane, “Those photos will probably be posted online.”
Standing close to me with his arm curled around my waist, he put his mouth to my ear, making the tiny hairs there stand on end. “I know. And they’ll be posted very quickly, due to that ring on your finger.”
He was often featured in online magazines for one reason or another. And now I probably would be, too. How lovely.
The urge to chug down my champagne hit me hard, but I sipped at it instead. Honestly, I was a little tipsy. Breathing in Dane’s dark cologne didn’t help—it seemed to give off seriously potent pheromones. Or maybe that was just the man himself.
Each time he touched me, whispered in my ear, or played his fingers through my loose hair, I came that much closer to melting into him. My body practically throbbed with need. The air around me felt electrically charged, but it was more than obvious that he wasn’t similarly affected. If I hadn’t had four years-worth of practice at standing strong against the one-sided chemistry, I’d be close to trembling with the power of it. Sometimes, it almost felt like the sensual ever-present hunger had settled so deep into every cell of my body that I’d never escape it.
I needed to put a little space between us and give myself a reprieve, but he didn’t seem inclined to let me move. He never let me out of his sight. He had the role of possessive fiancé down to a tee.
“Has any of your family members called you yet?” I asked.