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My eyes lifted to his. The diamonds were heavy on my finger. I spun the band with my thumb. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
“There should be more to it,” I whispered more to myself than to Vaughn.
He strolled into the bathroom and closed the door. I felt the edges of the stones with my fingertips. I could hear the rush of water from the sink running while he brushed his teeth. Was he humming? Was he happy about this? Did lying about our relationship come easily to him?
I sighed. Of course it did. It had since the night we met.
The night he pretended to bump into me and rescued me from those assholes who thought I owed them something for a drink. He was calm. Chivalrous. Sexy. He was everything I needed in that moment in time.
The door suddenly swung open. I looked up.
He grinned, eyeing the ring. “You don’t mind being my wife for a few weeks, do you? I don’t see any other way to play this. The marriage is the cover, Em. You don’t have to do anything else. You’re ok with this, right?”
I nodded. “Of course,” I answered softly. His wife. A pretend wife. A fake wife.
“Don’t worry about your documents. I have a new passport for you. Everything has been taken care of.”
Everything except reality.
“Ready?” He offered his hand. “I’m starving. I don’t want to miss your reservation.”
I rose from the bed, feeling as if the world was completely off its axis and I was separated from my body. The only things weighing me down were the platinum rings on my left hand.
Chapter Three
With a couple of turns it was roughly five blocks to the restaurant. I wore my new scarf with the new boots. Vaughn squeezed my hand each time we crossed a street. He rattled on about different shops or sites we passed. I nodded in agreement, but it took too much effort to pretend to be entertained.
I had a hard time concentrating through dinner. I didn’t hear half of what Vaughn said. I kept glancing at the ring. I wasn’t enticed by the duck or the other fancy five courses. I didn’t want to try the foie gras or the marvelous cheeses. I wanted the last hour of my life to be rewritten. I wanted a new script. One that started with Vaughn explaining how in the hell he was ok with pretending we were married.
“Kate?”
“Hmm?” My eyes lifted.
“You haven’t eaten anything.” Vaughn picked up a large glass of wine. He smiled. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Oh.” I had pushed the food around my plate. “I’m still tired. Even after a nap.” My excuses were lame. I knew it. He knew it.
“I do have some news,” he offered.
“More news?” Did I sound as bitchy as I felt?
“We have to find an apartment tomorrow. I thought you could go with me to look. The realtor can meet us after breakfast to show us some flats.”
I was in a fog. Too stunned by the title of fake wife to think of anything else. Now we were going to have a fake apartment to go along with our fake marriage.
“Oh, I get to tag along?”
His eyes were piercing. I knew I was dangerously close to crossing a line.
“The hotel isn’t going to work any longer. We need something more permanent here. Something substantial and settled. I think it will be a good change.”
“Are you in the research stage?” I asked. I wanted to piece together what I could. Maybe I could make sense out of what had happened tonight.
He nodded. “I am. I’m putting things in place. Necessary things.”
“That includes me? You have to arrange me in this scenario?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Kate.”
