Page 78 of Fake it for Keeps

“Hallie.”

Around us, the crowd had started to thin, people moving to the edges of the dance floor. Watching us. Probably taking pictures. Tomorrow, we’d be all over the society pages. Colt Jesson and his fiancée, lost in each other on the dance floor.

But for once, I didn’t care about the optics. Didn’t care about the performance or the image or what any of it meant for my reputation.

I just wanted to keep holding her.

This was dangerous. I knew that. Knew I should pull back, put some distance between us, remember that this was all fake.

But I couldn’t make myself care.

She was looking at me with those dark eyes, her lips slightly parted, and I’d never wanted to kiss someone more in my entire life.

One kiss. What would it hurt?

It would be natural for a man to kiss his fiancée during a romantic dance. In fact, it would be weird if I didn’t.

But it would mean crossing a line we’d carefully maintained. It would mean admitting this was more than business. It would mean opening myself up to feelings I’d spent too long running from.

Fuck what it means.

I took what I wanted. That’s who I was. That’s what I did.

And right now, more than anything, I wanted her.

“Hallie,” I said again, my voice rough.

“Yeah?” Her breath hitched.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“We’re in public.”

“I don’t care.”

“Colt.”

But I was already lowering my head, already closing the distance between us. And the way she was looking at me told me she wanted this just as much as I did.

Our lips met, and the world went silent.

She tasted like champagne and something uniquely her. Her mouth was soft against mine, yielding at first, then responding with a hunger that matched my own. Her free hand came up to grip my shoulder, fingers digging in as she pressed closer.

I deepened the kiss, one hand sliding into her hair, the other pulling her flush against me. She made a small sound in the back of her throat that nearly drove me insane.

This wasn’t for show. Wasn’t for the cameras or the gossip sites or the reputation rehabilitation.

This was real.

Raw.

Everything I’d been telling myself I couldn’t have.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. Hallie’s lips were swollen, her carefully applied lipstick smudged. Her eyes were wide and dazed.

Around us, applause broke out. I’d forgotten we had an audience.

Right. Public event. Dozens of witnesses. Probably multiple cameras.

But as I looked down at Hallie, still held close in my arms, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.

“That was—” she started.

“Not fake,” I finished.

Her tongue darted out and licked her lower lip. I groaned and had to force my dick not to rise to the occasion.

The music transitioned into a new song.

“Thirsty?” I asked her.

She smiled. “Hell yes.”

I took her hand and led her through the crowd of people that were definitely watching us. I caught sight of John at the coat check. His expression was one of confusion.

He was probably wondering if what he saw was real or fake. Let him wonder. My threats were very real. I would destroy him if he dared to breathe a word about what she did on the side.