His Off Limits Best Friend - Vivian Wood Page 0,5

had been signed. His father could make that paperwork disappear in a second.

What Connor needed was a decoy. A fake fiancée. A girl who would answer to the name Sandra and never get caught with some other guy’s dick in her mouth—because she would be getting paid to play the role. Then, he could still get the business and claim the proverbial throne he’d been promised.

Now all he had to do was get Sam to agree to it.

He saw her enter through the mirrored back of the bar. She was a knockout, it was clear, even from across the room. The huddles of single men craned their necks in unison, and even the men cooing with their lovers looked up to drink her in. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to choose a girl simply because she was stunning, he thought to himself.

Sam caught sight of him, waved, and started to make her way through the crowd. But she has a real job, too. That would please his father. For once, he was grateful his father had never asked any details about Sandra besides whether or not she belonged to the country club. That would mean less lies to remember with Sam. She could slide into Sandra’s place easily.

“Hi,” Sam said with a shy smile.

Connor took another sip of his drink before turning to her. Damn. She really was unbelievable. A little young, but what did that matter? “You look lovely,” he told her coolly, kissing her cheek. When he went in for it, he felt her stiffen and brace for a kiss on the mouth. He loved putting women off balance like that, plus the knowledge that they would let him do whatever he liked from the jump.

“Thanks,” she said, tugging at her short dress and sliding onto the barstool next to him.

It was barely a slip of a dress, if you could even call it that. Black with a satin finish, it bared her toned shoulders and showcased her deep cleavage. Connor loosened his tie slightly as he broke out in a sweat. Eyes continued to be drawn to her from every corner of the room. It was exactly the reaction he wanted.

Let’s see what Sandra and her family think about this, he thought. But he shook the thought away. Why are you thinking about Sandra? Besides, if his plan went as he hoped, Sandra and her family wouldn’t find out about Sam for a long time, if ever. You just need a bride, not this ‘til death do you part bullshit.

“What are you drinking?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. What are you drinking?”

“Scotch, eighteen years. Would you like a taste?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Tanqueray martini, extra dry with a twist,” she said.

He was impressed. “For a second there I thought you were going to order an appletini or some other horrific concoction.”

She laughed. “I drink gin martinis because I can tolerate the taste just enough so that I sip it slowly. Fruity cocktails I’d just down like soda.”

“And the lemon?” he asked. “Why lemon instead of olives? I thought women liked the olives in martinis. You can eat them sensually, like cherries in an Old Fashioned.”

“Real martinis are served with lemon,” she said simply.

He looked her up and down. Maybe there was more to this girl than he’d given her credit for. “Another for me,” he told the bartender, “and a Tanqueray martini, extra dry with lemon, for my friend.” She bristled at the word “friend,” just as he’d expected.

“So, how was—” she began.

“I didn’t ask you here for small talk,” he interrupted. She looked surprised, but kept her mouth shut. “Look, I’m going to be really upfront and transparent with you. I have ulterior motives.”

“Yes, so you said at my office,” she said, and thanked the bartender for her drink.

“There’s a lot more at stake here with my failed engagement than some kind of broken heart.”

“Oh?” she asked. As she lifted her drink to her lips, he gently clinked glasses with her. “You have to maintain eye contact when you toast,” she told him. “Otherwise, it’s bad luck.”

“My father is the CEO of Trezor Security,” he said.

“That’s where I know your name from!” she said. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

“Yes, well. And I’m next in line for the illustrious throne, as he likes to call it. I’ve just signed on as Chief Operations Officer, but there’s always been a catch built into these contracts. My father believes his eldest son is only cut out