Some Like It Charming - By Megan Bryce Page 0,62
with you.”
“Why?”
He squeezed her butt. “Guess.”
“Oh, please. You don’t need to live with a woman to sleep with her.”
“It’s nice knowing you’ll be here when I get home. We don’t have to coordinate.”
“It’s a scheduling issue?”
He rolled his eyes up to his head. “A scheduling issue. You do that on purpose. Kill all my moves just for the fun of it.”
She pointed to her backside. “You sneaked a butt squeeze past me. I didn’t see that one coming in time.”
“You saw it coming.”
She pinched his nipple and said, “Did you see that coming?”
“Ow!” He grabbed her hands, trapping them against his chest. “Vicious. No wonder my mother doesn’t like you. Just think of her head exploding when I tell her you’re staying a little bit longer.”
“I’m not staying any longer. I’ve got a new life to figure out.”
“You mean a non-life. I’ve got to be better than that.”
She shook her head, wriggling her hands free.
He said, “You know I’ll talk you into it.”
“Not this time. I’ve learned all your tricks now.”
He rolled her onto her back and held her hand to his heart. “Not all my tricks.”
He bent his head and she said, “You’re going to love me to death, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m going to love you into staying.”
“You can try,” she said and his heart thumped. He knew with Mackenzie that success was never guaranteed.
Luckily, he liked a good challenge. Dammit.
Mackenzie woke with a gasp, her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.
Ethan murmured, “Okay?”
She slipped out of the covers, telling him to go back to sleep, and went into the bathroom.
She sat down on the rim of the tub, put her head in her hands, and stared down at the tile. Afraid to close her eyes.
Because Ethan had looked at her. He’d held her hands, and kissed her, and made love to her. And looked at her.
Is this what he did to his girlfriends? Looked at them like that? Like. . . like. . .
Like he loved her.
Like she was everything he had ever wanted. Like she was the most important thing in the world to him.
Mackenzie’s stomach heaved and she breathed in through her nose and out her mouth.
She knew he didn’t mean it. And she knew he wasn’t conning her.
This is what he’d paid her a million dollars for. To look into his eyes, to see love there, and to not believe it. To protect both of them. Because he couldn’t help it and he couldn’t stand to hurt anyone else.
A quiet knock on the door made her jump.
“Mackenzie? Honey?”
Her stomach clenched and she rubbed her face.
She opened the door slowly, bracing herself. His green eyes were filled with concern and she said, “I was just. . . I had a bad dream.”
He took her hand, leading her back to bed, and wrapping his arms around her.
She put her head on his chest, right on the spot that had become her unofficial pillow. Right where she could hear his lying heart beating. She lay there in Ethan’s arms and knew that a million dollars hadn’t been enough.
But at least she knew he couldn’t help himself. That it wasn’t real.
Not her fault that she’d fallen for it. Every woman did.
One week and three days later, Mackenzie woke early and rolled quietly out of bed. She’d packed her bags yesterday while Ethan was at work. Had bought a plane ticket. And hadn’t told him.
He’d spent the last week trying to get her to say she would stay. But she couldn’t. And she already knew he could talk her into uprooting her life when she should run screaming.
It wouldn’t be hard for him to do it this time since she liked being with him. Liked living with him. Loved New York.
But their contract was up, which meant if she stayed it would be real. She would really be living with him. Really be sleeping with him. Really be in love with him.
She couldn’t really be in love with Ethan Howell O’Connor. Women who fell in love with him fell hard when he moved on.
He would break her and this time there would be nothing left to start over with. Nothing left but a bitter woman. With an intense desire to give an interview to the National Enquirer.
She didn’t want to be that kind of woman.
She wasn’t that kind of woman.
She stared down at him, memorizing his face. The sunlight streamed through the window, shrouding him in a golden halo. His long fingers lay loose on the