My Fake Christmas Fiance (Kane Christmas #1) - Julie Kriss Page 0,17

to do, bad idea or not. “It’s only thoughts,” I said, trying the idea on.

“Exactly.” A small smile cracked Wes’s mouth, and my knees went rubbery as I leaned against the wall. I really liked it when that smile was directed at me. “I’m going to think about what you look like with this top off.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

“With the shorts off, too.” His voice was still low and quiet, whispering through me. “With everything off.”

Why did I like that? Because I did. I definitely did. “Okay.”

“And then I’m going to think about everything I’d like to do to you.” That smile again. “I’m going to think about it in detail.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said. “The thinking, I mean. Then we’re not doing something we shouldn’t.”

Wes nodded. “No complications.”

“No disappointment.”

His eyebrows went up, and I realized what I’d just said. “I don’t mean it like…I don’t mean that you’d be a disappointment. I mean that maybe I would be.” That sounded terrible, too. “What I mean is—it’s just—”

“You wouldn’t be a disappointment, Penny.” His voice was so smooth, so assured. As if he knew exactly what he was talking about. “You’d be just fine. But you don’t have to be nervous about it. Because we’re only thinking.”

Oh, God. I was embarrassed and turned on and completely out of my element. I was Good Penny. I wasn’t a seductive type of woman, the kind who could meet sexy, bare-chested men in a hallway in the middle of the night and make sex-fantasy deals with them. I was just Penelope, who tried to work hard and stay sensible, and who had never had to fend off a man like Wesley Kane.

So I said the only thing I could think of, the words so awkward I winced as I said them. “I have to pee.”

Wes smiled again, with real amusement, and this time he dropped his hand and stepped back. “Good night, Penny.”

He walked off down the hall, and all I wanted to do was grab him and pull him back.

But I didn’t. Instead I went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Chapter 9

Penny

The next morning was my first day in the Kane offices. I was awake at seven, dressed and downstairs at seven-twenty. There was no sign of Wes. Instead, standing in the kitchen as if she lived there, was a woman.

She was lithe and strong, with corkscrew-curly blond hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She wore a plaid flannel shirt and jeans. Her back was to me as she worked the Keurig machine, but she turned as I walked into the kitchen.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Sophie.”

The words were kind, but she didn’t smile. Wes’s sister resembled him a little, but her mannerisms were very different. She didn’t have his charming grins or his easy jokes. Instead, her pretty face was dead serious, her gaze fixed on me in the most intimidating way.

“Hi. I’m Penelope.” I held out my hand and tried to remember everything I had heard or read about Sophie Kane. She was Wes’s little sister, she ran the warehouse, and she had attitude. That was about it.

Sophie looked at my hand and then shook it, a little grudgingly, I thought. Then she looked at my hand again. “Is that the ring he gave you?”

“Oh.” The ring was on the fourth finger of my right hand, where I’d worn it—though I hadn’t admitted that to Wes—since I’d first opened the box. I had to remember that Sophie, and everyone at Kane, thought we were really engaged. “I was just, er, washing my left hand. I moved it temporarily.” I slid the ring from my right hand to my left, trying to pretend it was the most natural thing in the world. In truth, it felt strange to have a ring on that finger. Wes’s ring. I tried not to think about it.

We could just think about it. Then we’re not really doing anything.

Had that really happened last night? I wanted to pretend it hadn’t, but I could still feel the shadow of Wes’s thumb moving over my collarbone, his fingers on my skin as he pulled the strap of my camisole down. It had definitely happened, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

“It’s a nice ring,” Sophie said—again, a little grudgingly.

I could tell that she didn’t really want to like me, but because she wasn’t an awful person, she couldn’t quite rule me out yet. “It’s beautiful,” I said of the ring, meaning it. “I, um, I’m