Never Gonna Happen - Cynthia Eden Page 0,30
him how to defend himself. How to fight like a beast. How to shoot. How to attack all of his enemy’s weak spots.
When you wanted to take someone down, you always went after what made that person weak.
His gaze slid to the computer screen. To the large picture of him holding Alyssa tightly against his chest.
“The Bad Boy of Tech rushes his girlfriend to safety…” She leaned closer. “I swear, you always get good press. And was I just reduced to the status of random girlfriend? Did they not even put my name in this piece?”
“Nothing random about you,” he immediately replied. Not a damn thing. “And Gavin names you, specifically, later in the article.” Because he’d already scanned it. “The jerk reporter glosses over the shooting and focuses on the fact that I’m romantically involved with my business partner’s sister. Talk about having his priorities screwed up.”
“I think he knew exactly what he was doing.”
She was so close to him. And that lavender scent…fuck me. She smelled so good.
“You attract attention. I’m sure the story will get tons of clicks.” She waved her hand toward the screen. “It already has. Don’t see the point in you deleting it now.”
He’d clenched his back teeth. With an effort, he gritted out, “Everyone will think we’re sleeping together. The reporter came here. He’s going to spread the word that you spent the night at my place. You’re going to be gossiped about and dragged through the mud, and I know you like to stay quiet. You’re private, and I didn’t think you wanted—”
“To be linked to you? To have people think we’re sleeping together?” A pause. “But I thought that was what you did want. I thought you wanted us sleeping together.”
He turned his chair so that he faced her. They should be clear. “I don’t care a whole lot about sleeping. Truth be told, I usually only get four hours of sleep or so a night.”
Her brow scrunched. “That doesn’t seem like enough.”
It was all he needed. Speaking of things he needed… “I care about fucking you. About touching and kissing every single inch of your body and sinking my dick into you over and over again.”
Her lips parted.
“But I didn’t think you’d want the reporter spreading that, either.” And she wasn’t like the women who wanted to be photographed at his side because they enjoyed the fame. For as long as he’d known Alyssa, she’d avoided the spotlight that came from Shark Gaming and Design. “I was trying to protect you.” Simple. “Kind of like I always have.” He lifted one eyebrow. “So, if you’ll let me get back to work, I’ll make this vanish—”
“I thought things on the internet were there forever.”
“Not when you have my skills.”
He turned away. Reached for the keyboard.
“Don’t.” Her hands settled on top of his.
Her touch sent fire right through him. His dick had already been up because he found her lavender scent sexy as hell. No, he found her sexy as hell, and when she’d gotten all close to him, he’d responded the way he normally did.
All freaking in.
He inhaled and swore he tasted her. “You want the world to think we’re screwing?” His head turned. His gaze met hers. “You want them to believe a lie? How very unlike you, Alyssa.” Because he’d always thought of her as the good girl.
While he’d been…
Just the bastard. The asshole. The man who would never be good enough to touch her.
Except she was touching him right then.
Touching him and staring straight into his eyes as she said, “If I’m staying with you, if I’m here for any length of time, people are going to wonder why. I mean, it’s not like I get to just go home tomorrow.”
Hell, no, she didn’t.
“We were involved in a shooting. Other reporters will ask questions. We can’t just hide from this.”
Technically, I can do any damn thing I want.
“It can be a cover story,” she continued doggedly. “Let the world think we’re together romantically. It’s much easier to say that lie because it’s not like I can reveal my brother is a spy, and I’m in danger because of that fact.”
No, they couldn’t reveal that part.
“I’m sure you use cover stories all the time.” Her gaze searched his. “How is this any different?”
It was different because she was involved.
“When it’s over,” her voice lowered, “we’ll just say that we broke up. End of the big story. The press can move on to catching pictures of you with other women.