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Swallowing, I nodded, knowing it was the best deal I’d get. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
And then we’d go to Vegas and get married. Wasn’t that ultra-special.
Chapter Nine
Placing my small suitcase on the floor beside the front door, I slipped on my shoes. Dane had texted me to let me know that he was outside. When it came to business trips, I usually met him at the airport. We were apparently deviating from our normal routine. Maybe he didn’t trust that I wouldn’t back out of the trip or something.
God, I was gonna hurl at some point. My stomach was all queasy and fluttery, and the sensations worsened each time I thought about the wedding. I’d gone from dreading it to wishing the time would fly by faster. The sooner it was over and done with, the sooner things would get back to … well, as normal as they were going to be when I was fake married to my boss. The marriage certificate was the only thing about it that would be real.
Grabbing my purse and suitcase, I left the apartment, took the elevator down to the first floor, and then headed outside to where the car waited. Sam took my suitcase and put it in the trunk while I slipped into the rear of the car.
I flashed a smile at the man sitting a few feet away from me. “Hi.”
Dane looked up from his phone, and his gaze flitted over my face. His brow creased. “You’re tired.” He said it like it offended him.
“I didn’t have a great night’s sleep.” I would have made a joke about pre-wedding jitters if the privacy screen had been up.
Before long, we arrived at the airport and boarded his jet. He spent most of the flight working. I did a little work myself followed by some reading, intent on distracting myself from the upcoming wedding.
Soon enough, the jet touched down in Vegas. A luxury, chauffeured car picked us up from the airport and drove us to the opulent hotel that was a favorite of Dane’s. After checking into his suite, we ordered room service and then ate dinner while going over some business matters.
In the past, I’d occasionally sat with Dane in his hotel suite while we discussed work, but I’d always returned to my own room to sleep. This time, however, my room wasn’t on another floor. It was in his suite, which was big enough that we both had our privacy and wouldn’t get in each other’s way.
The bed proved to be comfy as hell, but I woke early after yet another annoyingly restless sleep. Fortunately, I didn’t look as haggard as I felt.
I could never eat first thing in the morning as my stomach always felt unsettled so, as usual, I first showered, dressed, slapped on some makeup, and styled my hair.
Walking into the dining area a short while later, I found an array of foods spread out on the table. Dane was already there—clean, dressed, alert, and delicious—reading something on his tablet, a plate in front of him on which only a few crumbs lay. He greeted me with a mere raise of his eyebrows before going back to whatever he was reading.
Once I’d eaten a light breakfast during which I scanned both my emails and his, I made my way to the tall window. I felt a smile curve my mouth. I’d gotten a load of the Las Vegas strip before, but the view never got old. It honestly took my breath away every time.
Hopefully we’d get to explore the place a little while here. It wouldn’t happen today, though. No, this day would be an eventful one that consisted of two conferences, a business lunch, an industry dinner where he’d make a speech, and then an after-reception during which we’d eat, talk, smile for photographers, and fake the fuck out of our relationship.
“Vienna?”
It really was not fair that that deep, rumbly voice could twist my insides. I turned to see him fluidly stalking toward me, all dark and broody and sinful.
“Put your hand out,” he said.
I did so, and he placed a sleek platinum ring on my palm that boasted a sparkling princess cut diamond. I sucked in a breath. “Wow. It’s …” Gorgeous. Stunning. Elegant. “Not as subtle as I’d hoped,” I finished, not wanting to make a fuss in case he thought I’d gotten swept away in the moment and forgotten that this wasn’t real. I never let myself forget that anymore.
“I told you, I don’t do subtle.”
“I didn’t think you were giving this to me until tomorrow.”
“The story will be that I proposed this morning, so you need to start wearing it now. But don’t mention to anyone that we’re getting married tomorrow—you’re not supposed to know yet; it’s supposed to be something I spring on you.”
